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| Dr Dr, give me the news........ |
So I went with the quote made by Helgi Stingrimsson of the band Haukar back in 1972. It sounds weird yet the sentiment rings with a sort of obvious truth that I have trouble elaborating on.
I just finished reading through Blue Eyed Pop, the History of Popular Music in Iceland, by Dr Gunni, a musician/journalist/game show host guy/etc. from Iceland. It is basically what the title says, a history of Icelandic music from the early days to the present. I have to say its a very nice book, loaded with band photos, album and anecdotes. And of course, pithy observations by the good doctor.
The book is a fairly pricey purchase, but this is the sort of stuff I eat up, so I didn't hesitate picking this up directly from Gunni directly. It reminds me of John Dix's History of New Zealand music, Stranded in Paradise, which I picked up a few years ago after a lengthy search.
And as an outsider looking in, all my predispositions about Icelandic music turned out to be correct.
Their music scene is all due to the confluence of excessive Brennivin, eating Puffins, and co-existing with Elves. I'm just kidding......
The book starts early, and details the development of technology and media. I mean you couldn't have autos without gas stations, so for music you need instruments (moving from accordians to guitars), microphones, recording devices, venues where music could be played, radio stations, the development of television. There of course are outside influences like the influx of rock and roll music from the former US airbase at Keflavik in the 1950's.
Like a lot of places, there was a lot of emulation of the music being made in the US and England. And of course, plenty of that went on with succeeding generations of bands in those countries too. It seems like every country has had their own approximation of Þorsteinn Eggertsson, the Icelandic Elvis, or Hljomar, the Icelandic Fab Four. It's a part of how scenes develop, how cultural evolution operates.
Reading Blue Eyed Pop has also had me waxing nostalgic. I've been to Iceland a couple of times, but not in quite a while. When I saw the Sugarcubes for the first time on TV, I was very intrigued with Bjork--she seemed to me to be an amazing talent and I immediately tracked down the 1st Cubes album. Though I couldn't have know for sure, I had an impression that there was more going on there than just 1 band. So I decided to go check the place out for myself.
I remember seeing the Hljomalind shop downtown and just going in by accident. It was early afternoon and noone was in the store except for myself and the clerk, so we started chatting about music. I told him of my interest in what was going on musically in the country, and he played me a variety of things. I remember hearing the music of Kolrassa Krókríðandi, for the first time--I thought they were amazing, unique sounding. He played some noisy screamy Big-Black type singles by Dr Gunni, which were completely over the top, and interesting electronic stuff by Curver. A bit later a bunch of kids came in the shop and had a conversation with the clerk. They must have just got out of school. I found out that this was a band called Maus, who had just put out their first album and wanted to see how it was selling. It sold me--I wound up buying a copy after a few songs were played for me in the shop. It still has the little Hljomalind sticker on the back. I think that I did meet Kiddi briefly--at the time of course I had no idea how important he was to the music scene there. What a small scene, but my ears were not lying to me at all.
It struck me that some unique tendencies did exist in the music scene there. Probably part of it has to do with the small population. A small scene, where people collaborate and bands break up to form other bands. And unlike say the US where people want to form bands in a Beatle set up, or a classic power trio, etc., at least until recently, I had the impression that kids in Iceland would go out and form a band, and one friend would pick up a guitar, another drums, but somebody would say, oh my girlfriend plays accordian, or my best friend plays clarinet. And they would proceed from there, which is something you would not see happen often in the states. It seemed like someone in a punk band would start making country or disco albums without any problems. I guess what I'm trying to say is that there was a freedom there to try things and to experiment. Less rules about what to do and what not to do. Maybe the childhood dream I had of being part of the American version of the Who doesn't translate within a country with a population smaller than the County I live in in New York. At least not until a certain tangible amount of success occurred for any band on a local level.
Given some success, Icelandic bands have attempted to break out onto the International scene, with mixed success over the years. It has been an ongoing thing, probably since the Beatles. For the most part unsuccessfully. But these days there are a lot of interesting things happening. Since Sigur Ros came on the scene, hipsters are paying close attention to the little island that could. And since then, with Mugison, Mum, Monsters & Men, Asgeir Trausti, Singapore Sling, Minus, Grisalappalisa, Olof Arnalds, Ghostigital Hafdis Huld, Hjaltalin, just to name a few artists, there is a lot of interesting music being made. There is a reason why so many music people and music fans attend the Icelandic Airwaves Festival each Fall. Maybe someday I'll get to go.
Gunni has an interesting, pithy way with words in the book. I enjoy his sense of humor throughout the book, whether it be discussing country balls, hair metal festivals, pop icon Bubbi Morthens, roadies with odd habits, or Iceland's attempts to win awards at the Eurovision song contest. What is nice about the book is that while you can find out who was making some of the best music of the different eras, he also discusses what was popular, what everyone was listening to at the time, and what popular styles were like, and about music stores, venues and even pizzarias that once existed in Reykjavik.
Gunni also mentions a fair number of children's albums, which is not surprising given that his album Abba Babb is a terrific album for kids. Unfortunately, that album is barely given a mention here, which is too bad. Hopefully, on the 2nd pressing of Blue Eyed Pop he will overcome his humility and expand on Abba Babb, because it deserves some more attention.
Overall, I enjoyed the book immensely, but it probably isn't for just anybody. Sure there are chapters on Bjork & Sigur Ros, but I liked reading about less known artists like Megas, Curver, Purrkur Pillnikk, Siggi Armann, Bogomil Font, Maus. And I learned about groups that I want to listen to that I hadn't heard of before, like Retro Stefson, 200.000 Naglbitar, or Grisalappalisa, or FM Belfast.
And about cultural things like Stuð music, the Rokk i Reykjavik movie, hair-do pop, Krutt music, and Pludo Sweaters. I was glad that I got this book. I wish there were more books out there like this.
If you want to hear more interesting music from Iceland check out Gunni's playlists at 8tracks.com/dr-gunni. A good way to learn some music history, and also find out what's happening in Iceland today.
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