The trance-state is characterized by repetition What kind of place is Iceland? The repetition contains within it variations How can a country so small generate so much original thought? The variations produce chaos out of order Two Icelandic bands performed in Minneapolis last night The variations produce order out of chaos Amiina, feminine, creating complex layers of sound The trance-state has a character that includes repetitions With strings and saws and lobby-bells and harmoniums and loops The repetitions contain within them variations A joyful surprise The variations promise chaos on our orders Sigur Rós, rose of victory, takes the stage behind a scrim The validations premise orders our chaos The song is one The trance-state has crenelations that infer repetitions For two hours the song ebbs and flows The resuscitations comprise worlds of validation The climax, and yet another climax The validation presses outward on chaos The encore, and then another, and yet another The trance-state has created our inspiration And a curtain call, Sigur Rós and Amiina The resolution compels wild adulation Boys and Girls playing together The adulation posits overwhelming cries Some new kind of music The trance-state of Iceland? Takk
Alda said…
Lovely!
Contrary to most, though, I just don't get what's so great about Sigur Rós. I've never really liked their music.
Professor Batty said…
…I had a hard time with them also, the latest album is much better I think, but still a challenge- definitely not easy listening! Our excellent public radio station The Source played a 'song' today from the sound check for Saturday's performace- it was absolutely stunning! I like the fact that they have incorporated Amiina into almost all the arrangements- they were wonderful in their own right, similar approach but not quite as brooding as Sigur Rós can be at times. Regardless of any of this, verrry original approaches to music. The man I sat next to, who didn't know a thing about either group was completely overwhelmed by the show.
Finally got the chance to view Heima, the new DVD by Sigur Rós, the Icelandic post-rock band. It is, on its surface, a chronicle of a series of concerts the group performed in Iceland throughout the summer of 2006. I've seen them perform before, but this is far more than just a concert film. It is a beautiful tribute to Iceland and its people, transporting and transcendent.
Regardless of what the music Sigur Rós is (and there are certainly grounds for serious criticism of it) I have never seen a musical film so accurately and deeply connect with the culture that gave it birth and nurtured it.
There are some minimal interviews with members of Sigur Rós and Amiina, (their four- woman string section); they come across as egoless as could be imagined. One section of the film has the eight of them in a recording studio, playing acoustically, demonstrating a group-mind-set that is almost unnerving.
The box set comes with an artistic photo album and another DVD of full-length concert performances- I'll save those for another night.
The trance-state is characterized by repetition What kind of place is Iceland? The repetition contains within it variations How can a country so small generate so much original thought? The variations produce chaos out of order Two Icelandic bands performed in Minneapolis last night The variations produce order out of chaos Amiina, feminine, creating complex layers of sound The trance-state has a character that includes repetitions With strings and saws and lobby-bells and harmoniums and loops The repetitions contain within them variations A joyful surprise The variations promise chaos on our orders Sigur Rós, rose of victory, takes the stage behind a scrim The validations premise orders our chaos The song is one The trance-state has crenelations that infer repetitions For two hours the song ebbs and flows The resuscitations comprise worlds of validation The climax, and yet another climax The validation presses outward on chaos The encore, and then another, and yet another The trance-state has created our inspiration And a curtain call, Sigur Rós and Amiina The resolution compels wild adulation Boys and Girls playing together The adulation posits overwhelming cries Some new kind of music The trance-state of Iceland? Takk
In a fit of melacholy, I watched the Sigur Rós DVD Heima again Friday night. I've posted about it before, seeing it again with the events of the last few weeks in mind, I had an even deeper appreciation for what it was- a vivid portrayal of their music played out on a background of the country and the people who had nourished it. If you would like to broaden your cultural horizons please do; it's available on Netflix.
I've been distraught these last two weeks concerning the crisis in Iceland's financial system. In a world of increasingly more homogenized culture, of compromised artistic visions, I've found (as regular readers will note) liberating voices from this isolated rock in the northern Atlantic. A vibrant and eclectic music scene, challenging movies, and a mature and provocative literature have all enriched my life.
Now, with the collapse of their banking system, this magnificent flowering of the human spirit is threatened, indeed, as the malaise spreads it seems as if all western civilization is on the verge of shutting down. This situation begs the question: "What is the value of Art, performing or otherwise?" Kurt Vonnegut put it this way:
"They (the arts) are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or how badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something."
Sigur Rós, Björk, Halldór Laxness, and many other Icelanders have created something worthwhile. That the world's economic system is failing them (and it is the system that is failing), is another matter altogether. Let us sit tight for a bit- there should be, after all of the clouds have dissapated, a new, brighter day.
Somehow, and this may be a bit Pollyannaish of me, I'm not feeling quite so melancholy now.
Seattle's Neptune Theater is a curious artifact from the 1920's. Recently restored, its baroque aquatic theme lent an air of excitement to the evening- even before the film started:
Director Vincent Morisset (and his brilliant production crew) has created an artistic experience which explodes existing film conventions, turning a Sigur Rós concert into a kinetic abstract expressionist canvas. Raw HD video footage was transferred to 16mm black and white film stock which was then optically manipulated in real-time producing an indescribable sense of sub-conscious unity with Sigur Rós's cathartic music. Watching it just before attending a Halloween party only heightened the evening's sense of surreality:
The fortune teller was gracious enough to also read my palm.
Most of my fortune lies in the past.
TOMORROW: Fashionista Batty has his mind blown at the NFB...
One of the most enjoyable (and rare) things about attending concerts is discovering a great new act performing before the headliner. Jimi Hendrix opened for the Monkees. I saw The Mothers of Invention with some guy/girl named Alice Cooper opening. To see Maceo Parker (Maceo! Come blow your horn!) open for (and play with) Ani DiFranco was a genre-bending delight. Usually, the opening act is forgettable, or sometimes even atrocious. In 2005 I attended a Sigur Rósconcert. Takk had just been released, and the opening act was a quartet with the name Amína. Wow. I was ready for the sturm und drang of the headliner, but was completely taken by surprise by the opening act:
Photo by Egill Kalevi Karlsson Amiina, as their name is now spelled, was a delight. Everything that most modern music is- serious, dull, overblown and tired- they were the opposite of. When they came back on stage and played with Sigur Rós for most of their set, it was stunning. Tonight (Thursday) Amiina is back in Minnesota, they are the headliners. Instead of a huge (2000 seat) theater, they will be in a much more intimate space. With a new album just out, this should prove to be a very entertaining evening. Opportunities such as this are rare- think about these things: how many women's musical groups exist? How many write all their own material? How many have created their own musical style? How many combine classical instruments with modern technologies? How many are Icelandic? OK, Björk has done that, but she's one person (and I can't wait to hear her new album as well) but she has integrated dozens of world-class musicians into her creations. Amiina are four friends from college, who write/improvise fun, challenging and musical pieces. If their performance tonight is anything like what I saw a year and a half ago, I'll be in heaven.
The latest Sigur Rós album, while not exactly a departure, opens with a familiar blend of intense art-rock laid over a simplified classical music background with Jónsi's urgent falsetto riding on top, almost as if it is an out-take from last year's Inni. But then the album starts to devolve into gentler, more open orchestration and comes into its own. I won't go into a track-by-track analysis— this is a work which should be listened to in its entirety, preferably with the lights out (psychoactive augmentation optional, but not necessary.) In the world of pop music Sigur Rós has carved out its own genre. One downside of this is that they have become a bit of a "cult" band and, as is the the usual situation in a case such as this, you are either in or you are out.
Count me in.
Another aspect of the groups' success is the adaptation of their music to film and television scores. The group has offered film and video directors carte blanche in the use of individual tracks of Valtari as a score in a "Mystery Films" competition.. The latest entries are here and are well worth a look. (Some NSFW)
Let´s get really crazy shall we? Start with the warmest day yet (sunbathing at the pool) and if 6 hours of music is not enough for you, how about starting things off at 17:00 in a century-old church (Fríkirkjan) by the pond with
Jóhann Jóhannsson of Apparat Organ Quartet fame. With his computers, piano, and a proper string quartet, he mixed classical and techno in a stunning fashion. An attentive crowd was transported into musical bliss. An hour later, I walked out into the twilight exhausted- and the night hadn't even begun! After a brief supper, (and a strong cup of coffee) it was back to Iðno for the Kitchen Motors (an artistic collective) night.
20:00 Siggi Ármann, a sensitive singer, verging on the precious, touched the small crowd with his sincere, emotional style.
20:45 Ólöf Arnalds, a young woman with an incredible voice and an accomplished instrumental style sings and plays tender ballads on guitar and charenga, a small lute-like instrument. Beautiful.
21:30 Kira Kira. The hall filled up with groups of friends and couples seated on the parquet floor, the atmosphere became more like a love-in. The five piece combo was led by an irrepressible woman on multiple instruments and computers. A lot of potential, the set was marred by technical problems.
22:15 Borko A quirky blend of samples and guitar rock, sounding a bit under-rehearsed.
23:00 Evil Madness. Jóhann Jóhannsson again, this time in a computer group (with a cellist) inspired by horror-movie soundtracks. Perfectly executed and scary. And people were dancing to it...This guy really gets around. GREAT STUFF!
00:00 Stórsveit Nix Noltes, a ten piece band of accomplished musicians playing eastern European-inspired music in a dynamic performance. Super high energy, the dancers got really into it. I'm running out of superlatives! Great ensemble playing and an excellent guitarist.
I finally give up at 01:00, my head still reeling. Earlier, I had talked with a music promoter from Brighton at the church and then met her again at Iðno. Later at Iðno I was speaking with a very nice young man about inkjet printing and inks. He asked if I liked Icelandic music, of course I started raving about Sigur Rós and Björk. He gave me a small smile and said "I am the lead singer of Sigur Rós."
I’ve been listening to the latest Pascal Pinon album a lot. What follows is not exactly a commercial review; in light of the sensitive nature of this project that would be crass. This is more of a rumination—on the music of course, but also on my circular quest for a fuller understanding of life via Icelandic culture.
By the mid-80s, when I had pretty much hung up my musical “career”, I was trying to make the home and family thing work. One escape from my domestic duties that I did have was a subscription to Andy Warhol'sInterviewmagazine, one of the few periodicals that retained a large format. The articles and photography were mostly about New York art and music scenes, but they also showcased up-and-comers from around the world. One of these blurbs featured the Icelandic band The Sugarcubes: Björk’s breakout vehicle. It was the beginning of a circle. I made a mental note of her and, in 2000, the Weaver and I did manage a short trip to Iceland. She was impressed but I was overwhelmed, especially with the omnipotence of Björk in the shops. So began a cultural odyssey. After quickly getting up to speed on Icelandic music and literature (and with the advent of blogs), I even began to make personal contacts with some of the natives. Now, five trips to Iceland later, I have come to the realization that I am approaching the end of the circle. Nothing ever stays the same, of course, and my contacts in Iceland have, like me, have moved on in their lives. The classic literature of Iceland remains great (and I adore serious Icelandic theater), its modern practitioners are gifted. Icelandic cinema remains very strong. The Icelandic music scene, however, seems to have reached some kind of peak around 2010. Although there are still some acts with international success (Sigur Rós, Of Monsters and Men), the most challenging new work is coming from Jóhann Jóhannsson, as a film music composer (Prisoners, The Theory of Everything, as well as the new Bladerunner).
All of this rambling is a preface to today’s subject: Sundur, the third album by Ásthildur and Jófríður Ákadóttir, twin sisters who call themselves Pascal Pinon. I first saw them in 2009 at Iceland Airwaves and I have always had an affection for the group. Their first release (Pascal Pinon, 2010), recorded when they were 14 years old, was a honest topography of the heart. Twosomeness, their second release (2013), brought the girls out of their bedroom and into the studio. It was, as to be expected, much more polished, while still retaining an intimate nature. Sundur goes far beyond either of these, presenting Jófríður’s lyrics "up-close-and-personal" accompanied by Ásthildur’s sure-handed production. The songs, as would be expected from the album’s title, are about love: lost, broken, or missed, with a bittersweet tinge. I could run this down track-by-track, but Jófríður has graciously already done so. Two of the stand-out cuts, Orange, and Ást,are available at the link. Ást was inspired by the writing of Halldór Laxness (another cultural circle), and is a powerful lament on love: “… the silent symphony created by stroking the strings of the heart… ”
Speaking of circles, Jófríður is featured in a recent Guardian article as being one of Björk's inspirations! Some reviewers have commented on the similarity of the two singers vocal styles. There is something to it but Jófríður is in full command of her gift; her melodies and phrasings are her own, the similarities in diction are shared by thousands of other Icelanders! She is also blessed with a twin sister who has grown musically as well. Ásthildur’s previous contributions were subtle but she is now an equal partner in this fascinating collaboration. Her assured and dynamic keyboard efforts are the equal of her sister’s vocalizations. I would even put Sundur in the same class as Joni Mitchell’s Blue, not as mature, of course (after all, they still are only 22), yet it is even more intimate than Joni’s masterwork—if such a thing could be possible. As a jaded, card-carrying curmudgeon, it takes a lot to crack my frozen attitudes. Pascal Pinon, those wyrd sisters from the North Country, not only thawed my resistance, they positively melted me.
Our frigid May (another 15 inches of snow in parts of Minnesota and Wisconsin yesterday) has been redeemed by a flurry of Iceland-related media. Of Monsters and Men, the double-platinum Icelandic rock group, will perform on SNL tonight. On May 19th, The Simpsons season finale will take place in Iceland—with Sigur Rós supplying the musical soundtrack!
On a less frivolous note, yesterday I received a DVD copy of Anti-American wins ’55 Nobel Prize, a documentary by Halldór Thorgeirsson. It is a fascinating look at the life of Halldór Laxness and the controversies which followed him throughout his career. Many thanks to Chay Lemoine, Laxness scholar and contributor to the Laxness in Translation website, for sending this my way. I'll be posting more about this Doc in the near future.
UPDATE: The electrons weren’t even dry on this post when I learned that Samaris, my favorite teen-age Techno/Goth combo, has been signed to One Little Indian (Björk’s label) with an album due out soon.
There have been a number of notable films with strong connections to Iceland in the last few years. The IMDb lists 302 titles in its Iceland section. I'll be giving a short impression of the ones I've seen, (using English titles) seeing any one of them is definitely the next best thing to being there...
101 Reykjavík, 2000, probably the most well known release of the last ten years, an unflinching look at the wild side of "101"- the central district of Reykjavík. I had a discussion about this film with a native in the Laugardalslaug pool, he was not at all pleased with its depiction of the city.
Beowulf and Grendel, 2005, Not the Angelia Jolie film, but the same story, told pretty well on a striking Icelandic location.
Cold Fever, 1995, Japanese-Icelandic production, very good, quirky, touching at times. Lots of countryside.
Screaming Masterpiece, 2005, The Icelandic music scene, wildly uneven, a must for music fans.
Dís, 2004, Coming of age story written by a woman who was a night clerk at Hotel Borg (Shen was working the night desk the time I stayed there), not the greatest film, but lots of Reykjavik locales, with a cameo from Vigdís Finnbogadóttir and soundtrack by Jóhann Jóhannsson.
Heima, 2007, Sigur Rós concert film, and much, much more. #1 rated documentary at IMDb.
The Juniper Tree, Brothers Grimm-type story concerning witchcraft set amidst Icelandic scenery. Björk's film debut. A bit thin on drama but very good atmosphere.
Cold Light, 2004, a brooding, dark film about a man haunted by a childhood trauma. Extremely well done, not for everyone. Good views of modern life in Reykjavík.
The Seagull's Laughter 2001, great film about an extended family of women whose worthless men meet their demise in various "accidents." Told from the point of view of a girl on the verge of adolescence. A must see.
Jar City, 2006, an Inspector Arnaldur mystery. Taut mystery with good cast, very dark, excellent location shots.
Noi the Albino, 2003, a peculiar young man in an isolated town on the northern coast of Iceland. Very odd, even by Icelandic standards, well worth viewing if you enjoy a Twilight-Zone type story.
There are obviously many more, some titles I've left off because they were not directly concerned with Iceland (notably Niceland, 2004, A Little Trip to Heaven, 2005, Dancer in the Dark, 2001) and there are some I've been wanting to see but haven't yet had the chance (The Sea, Angels of the Universe) to say nothing of the Halldór Laxness books that have been filmed (Salka Valka, 1954, and Atom Station, 1984.) Most of those are in Icelandic only, some aren't available in compatible formats.
I found Noi at my local Hollywood. Netflix should have most of the others...
UPDATE! Check out Rose's reviews of selected Icelandic films!
I just received the soundtrack album for Screaming Masterpiece, a 2005 documentary on "One Thousand Years of Icelandic Music." The movie itself was a bit disjointed, but the soundtrack is an excellent distillation of the experience, with 16 full-length tracks including "Hrafnagaldur" (Odin's Raven Magic)- a thousand year old poem set to music and performed by an orchestra that also included Sigur Rós, a large choir and a pair of stone xylophones! It was a shorter track on the CD, however, that really caught my ear- Odi et Amo by Jóhann Jóhannsson, a haunting blend of strings, altered voice and keyboards that stopped time for me; taking me away from my rainy day doldrums. I'd seen Jóhann last year in Iceland, performing with three different ensembles, in three different venues, in three different genres. This track shows yet another side of the man. Worth seeking out, there's a live performance of it with a harmonium introduction by the man himself here.
Last night found the Weaver and me at a most unusual concert featuring some fairly obscure musicians: the Icelandic musical collective Bedroom Community. I have seen versions of them perform in Iceland a couple of times but this was a rare opportunity to see these performers in the Midwest, fresh from their triumphant residency with the Los Angeles Philharmonic. Not every artist could make it: The U.S. Immigration Services denied the visa application for Swedish vocalist Mariam Wallentin, I fear that this may be a harbinger of things to come. Set in the gorgeous courtyard of The American Swedish Institute, it was an evening of musical highs and plateaus. It has been over ten years since I’ve last seen the melancholy Valgeir Sigurðsson perform. He’s since been busy, as a composer and as an all-around audio producer and engineer for Björk, Sigur Rós and numerous other acts. He was in Minneapolis last night, although oddly subdued, seeming content to stay in the background while violinist Pekka Kuusisto led a string quartet from the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra:
The Bedroom Community is a loosely-knit group of musicians, it includes Jodie Landau, a singer and multi-instrumentalist out of Los Angeles who was effective with his art songs:
The neo-folkie Sam Amidon is a bit of the odd man out here, he is not a very dynamic performer and his musical sensibilities re: American Folk Music is about 60 years out of sync with the times. He would have been great in the pre-Bob Dylan folk era, I couldn’t fathom why he was on stage with this group of musicians:
Daníel Bjarnason was also low-key tonight, his piano was lost in the mix at times:
The wild card in this deck was Kuusisto, a virtuoso violinist from Finland who performed an excellent cover of Prince’s Something in the Water with Poliça's Channy Leaneagh:
There was more than just music: delicious small plates from Fika, the ASI restaurant, were available, along with a choice of beverages and a yummy strawberry custard dessert cup.
The ticket also included an admission to the institute’s current show, featuring Scandinavian textile designers.
One hazard of an outdoor show in South Minneapolis is the nearly constant sound of jets leaving the nearby MSP airport. Sometimes the roar of the engines was in tune with the composition, not what was intended, but making for memorable performances.
Siggi Ármann on stage @ Iðno, Iceland Airwaves, October 21st, 2006
I saw this humble troubadour perform in 2006; his was the first act of the Kitchen Motors Night. He was one of many Icelandic singer-songwriters I have seen and heard perform, he had put out a couple of albums and there is another on the way. He was a man apart, and from the very first song that night I could hear that he had a different approach to music and performing. With him it was 100% personal, and I doubt that there was any difference if there had been an audience of 10 (when I saw him) or 1000 (when he opened for Sigur Rós on their 2002 tour.) His music was direct and honest, the way all music should be and is seldom attained. His former collaborator Johann Johannsson has published a fine remembrance on his site.
I stare into nothing, I yearn for the innocence I once thought I had
A lack of sense for a fear that grows as I get older
I've carried these thoughts and I've drowned them in work
And I've worn myself blue on the way down
Oh, mother, would you cry if you hear this song? ~Jófríður Ákadóttir
In light of her perfomance tonight at SXSW I thought I would ruminate a bit about my favorite Icelandic chanteuse: Jófríður Ákadóttir, aka JFDR.
I first saw her perform with Pascal Pinonfourteen(!) years ago where I was touched by their honest presentation and her melodic songs. Jófríður and I actually interacted a bit back then, exchanging CDs, emails, she vetted a KFJC an interview (she said my blog was “cool”). A year later I saw her perform with Samaris and sat in on their sound-check, an experience which gave me some insight on her compositional methods:
In 2018 I saw her perform at Airwaves, in support of Nini Julia Bang, in an absolutely stunning off-venue performance:
I was standing in the back of the auditorium as she burst in, side-swiping me with her gear—my brush with greatness!
In 2022 she repeated the feat, pushing me aside on her way to perform at a fashion boutique (I was hiding amidst the clothes but she still managed to find me):
Last year we actually sat down together and she spoke with me. I tried not to be a jabbering fan-boy but it was hard under the circumstances: I was on a vintage boat; in the Reykjavík harbour; with my favorite Icelandic musician; on a beautiful fall day and… cocoa. Jó graciously accepted my thanks for all her music over the years, so… now I can die happy, I guess:
Her music, in recent years, has become sadder as her youthful exuberance has been tempered with the usual disappointments and struggles that come with age. She got a big dose of reality when Covid hit just as she was on the verge of an international tour promoting her newest album. It wasn’t a complete disaster—she was stranded in Australia with musician/electronic equipment designer Joshua Wilkinson, whom she then married! I saw them perform together at last year’s Iceland Airwaves; it was a stripped-down show, but Jófríður was in good spirits and was even pushing herself in new musical directions:
While I have struggled some with her more recent music—it isn’t exactly easy listening—she always has inventive arrangements and beautiful melodies. Of all the musical acts I’ve seen in Iceland, hers is the one I have engaged with the most over the last 25 years. What that says about me, I don’t know exactly, but I am grateful for her honesty, intelligence, as well as a clear musical vision.
So… Tonight Jófríður is playing in Austin, Texas for SXSW. She’s 28, and arguably at the peak of her musical powers. Is there a place for a melancholy Icelandic star in the disintegrating world of pop music? The last Icelandic act to hit it big* was Of Monsters and Men and that was over a dozen years ago, Sigur Rós broke over twenty years ago and Bjórk’s “debut” was over thirty! The world of music distribution has changed since then and the odds are against her (she does film and TV scoring too.)
The larger world has encroached on SXSW as well. SXSW is sponsored in part by the the U.S. Army which has had a role in the current situation in Israel and Palestine. Another Icelandic act, Gróa (with whom JFDR’s sister Marta performs), has already pulled out from the festival because of that issue, an issue that may become a family affair. Regardless of any fallout from this performance, it is just another hurdle for her to overcome in her fairy-tale career:
Lift ourselves up from the ground
Let wings grow into our backs
As if we′re 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 ~ Jófríður Ákadóttir
This may well be my final JFDR post on FITK.
Good-bye is too cruel a word, babe, so I’ll just say, “Fare thee well… ”
For someone who’s nearly a decade older than me, his creative endeavors in the past few years have been astounding. It’s as if The 2016 Nobel Prize in Literature ignited a new artistic passion in the man. Bob has been busy creating sculpture, painting, whiskey and with his successful Rough and Rowdy Ways/A Murder Most Foul release last year, continues to write and perform great new songs, recently embarking on an acclaimed new tour.
In it a dapper Bob and four masked musicians mime 13 songs from Dylan’s back catalog. Set in a seedy nightclub (Club Bon-Bon) that is beyond time and space, it is a monochrome neo-noir fantasy that could be sometime in the late the 40s to early 60s: vintage clothes, everybody is smoking, Bob is right there in the midst of it all, singing, emoting (in his fashion), and so close to the people in the club that they could touch him (and do in one instance!) I could give you a summary of each bluesy song but if you haven’t see any of it yet and the idea of seeing Bob in this setting might appeal to you, check it out below. A little short of an hour, it sounds best on headphones. The songs seamlessly segue, each has been reworked and performed beautifully. The visuals are stunning and ambiguous enough to keep Dylanologists occupied for years. There is even a tenuous Icelandic music connection—both the director and the music producer (Alex Somers) have worked with Sigur Rós, and Somers produced Pascal Pinon. One of the musicians is Shahzad Ismaily, who produced JFDR’s first album.
You can see one of the tracks below (if it hasn’t yet been taken down from YouTube):
