I happened to be awake at 0400 and I experienced my first earthquake. It would be only the first of many tremors of the day, the others being musical.
My pool-companion today was Oskar from Edinburg, and was an Airwaves regular. We compared notes (we had already been at some of the same shows.) I returned to my flat to once-again muster some reserves for the long afternoon/evening ahead. I had 12 acts on my list, as well as several others which I couldn’t fit in.
I saw 13.
I started the afternoon with a trio of groups playing at Lucky Records, a shop with a massive inventory of vintage and new vinyl. First up was a jazz trio led by
Halli Guðmundsson on guitar. They were excellent:
Then came
Jonfri, he was not so excellent:
And wrapping things up was the venerable
Langiseli og skugganir, a rockabilly group I had seen in 2006. They rocked harder than ever, and even managed to play 5 songs in 6 minutes. They are true keepers of the Rockabilly flame:
I had to leave before the end of their set because I wanted to see
JFDR (have I mentioned her before?) playing in Yeoman fashion boutique. Her sister Ásthildur was also there on piano and harmonies, as well as a string trio. When she started singing Pascal Pinon songs I got a little bit misty. JFDR mentioned that it was a treat to be performing in real-time with no click-tracks:
After grabbing a bite to eat (pylsur) I went to Fríkirkjan, where
Kira Kira, musical godmother to hundreds of Icelandic musicians, was enchanting, as always:
Then came my favorite thereminist,
Hekla. She put the audience in a trance on a 40 minute voyage to a musical underworld and back. The most intense performance of the festival:
From there I went to Gamla Bíó where
Sigrún Stella was dishing up an Icelandic version of alt-country-rock.There was a love-fest going on with a group of fans in front of the stage. The woman I was sitting next to told me they were mostly from a smaller town in Iceland and the placed was packed with friends:
The woman was from Bellingham, Washington, and had been at the Airwaves the year before and we had seen many of the same shows including the next group,
Gróa:
They were astounding. There was a point in the middle of the set where all known laws of physical reality were suspended. My companion and I were simultaneously roaring and laughing, an Airwaves moment for the ages. After their set was over I was a little reluctant to make the 1 kilometer trek to the Kex Hostel 2. It isn’t the best of venues, but I saw
Neonme, whose flowing style was restricted by the cramped quarters:
Downstairs, at Kex1, the new stage,
Kristín Sessala led half a band (the bass and drums were pre-recorded) through some uninspired tunes. The guitarist was very good, however:
Making it back downtown, I stopped in to the IA center to warm up where I saw the rapper
GKR in full-blown mode. No usually my thing but he was very good, with a musical background (not just heavy beats) and an impassioned delivery:
Then it was over to the Art Museum, the biggest venue. The group on stage was
Blondshell, an arena-rock band fronted by a woman, evidently the “Blondshell.” Half-hearted dance moves and awful singing, this is the reason I usually don’t watch American bands at Airwaves:
The final act,
Bombay Bicycle Club, was a UK group that was big about 12 years ago. As the final act on Friday night in the biggest Airwaves venue they would probably be considered a headliner for the festival. To me they came across as a second-tier
Flaming Lips with bombastic songs and moronic bass lines. I left after about 10 minutes of this, kind of a sour end to an otherwise wonderful day.
