Forskot á heimavelli

Chapter 18 of Search For a Dancer, a serial memoir of one week in Iceland in 2022. Mondays on Flippism is the Key

“We may judge what is merely beautiful, but sublime art judges us or, better said, it challenges us to judge ourselves.” ~ David P. Goldman

JFDR and band, Gamla Bíó, Iceland Airwaves, 2022

Where to begin?

Along with Johann Johannson, Jófríður Ákadóttir (AKA JFDR) and her sister Ásthildur have been consistent presences in my Icelandic musical landscape. Alas, Johann is gone now but his claim to immortality is assured by his film scores. Jófríður is on her third (or fourth or fifth) career and, at the age of 28, shows no sign of slowing down. Her live performances had been curtailed during the Covid epidemic but she kept busy with film and television score work.

As she has grown from a shy teen into a mature performer some things have changed while other traits remain. The best description of her early years is found in an interview by KFJC's DJ Cousin Mary, done when she was sixteen:

“I think we just don’t really realize how young we are. We have all this time to do so many things. Sometimes we kind of get lost in always comparing ourselves to some people who are older and have been doing this thing for a lot longer time. I thinks that’s one sort of mistake that you make and you have to be very careful sometimes because we are very young and we have to sometimes be careful not to compare ourselves too much.”

Ásthildur and Jófríður Ákadóttir, Grand Rokk, October 16, 2009

The Ákadóttir twins produced three full-length albums (and several other tracks) as Pascal Pinon. Since then, Jófríður has collaborated with numerous other groups and performers and started a solo career as JFDR. Ásthildur pursued composition and further musical education. Seeing them on stage together again was a delight—their years apart were always not smooth sailing—but both looked to be in their element as they played and sang together:

Ásthildur and Jófríður, November 3, 2022

The best description of Jófríður’s current state of mind is to be found in this The Line of Best Fit interview. The arrangements featured backing tracks augmented by Ásthildur’s and Josh Wilkinson’s keyboards, a string section and, at times, Jófríður on guitar. Her steady finger-picking style has been a constant throughout her career. What has changed is a shift from melodically based guitar songs to programmed grooves:



What was also missing were the quirky fills and odd instrumentation of the Pascal Pinon songs. They were albums out of time, living in a separate reality where only twins can go. Jófríður’s new music is polished and pleasant, modern in every way. She commented that being on the Gamla Bíó stage was like a homecoming. A “home-field advantage?” I thought. The crowd was attentive and appreciative, especially so for such an ethereal performer, but Jófríður was really in her element when she strapped on her guitar:

As the final chords of her set faded away, I was struck with a feeling of melancholy: this might well be the final time I’m in the same room as these twins—“Pascal Pinon-the two-headed“—a most agreeable freak of nature. Jófríður’s music is sublime but seems to be heading in a direction that I’m not; Ásthildur’s music may be more to my taste, but so far there have only been hints as to where her art is going. The almost mystical bond they shared in their youth has been torn and rent in the way that all the trappings of youth are ultimately shredded by time.

Lift ourselves up from the ground
Let wings grow into our backs as if we are angels
In the cold air of heaven
We're flying to, we fall down

Throw ourselves into the deep sea
Let fish-tails grow onto our bodies
Swim like seals in the cold ocean and
Feel safe 'cause there we can't fall down

Lower ourselves down
From the sky, and onto the earth
Let arms grow out of our bodies
As if we're babies*

Overall the night was a triumph for Jófríður, a welcome homecoming where she could strut her stuff and face the world:

This post has been a bit of a mess—jumping back and forth between various stages of the sisters’ career, but it accurately reflects my thinking on them; their music is all jumbled up in my conciousness: I’m a fan, not a musicologist.

* Babies, by Jófríður Ákadóttir


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