Iceland Airwaves Recap

The Song Remains the Same


                      Jofriður Ákadóttir, 2009                                                      Jofriður Ákadóttir, 2018

After having had a week to process the experience of the 2018 Iceland Airwaves, it is still impossible to come to any definitive conclusions about such a multifarious event. The wide assortment of musical styles presented has always been a feature of this most diverse musical festival. That said, times change; there were certainly more rap and hop-hop acts this year as well as, for the lack of a better word, “Swedish Style” glossy and formulaic pop music. There were fewer guitar-rock groups (I didn’t see a single Stratocaster!) and not quite as many singer-songwriter-troubadours as there were when I was there was in 2009. Even EDM seemed to be down—there was no main venue devoting a whole night to it as there once was.

A significant difference in the Airwaves Festival this year is the number of female acts. It has reached parity over all styles, a most welcome development. There seemed to be more string sections in use as well, even some of the acts performing in the small off-venues utilized them. They were all very good, although the quality of the arrangements varied. One tradition which has been upheld is the inclusion of carefully chosen new acts doing original music. This isn’t American Idol, where carefully groomed acts reenact hits of the past, but rather young (in some cases very young) musicians create something new and unshaped by the crushing effects of mass marketing. There were also numerous established but quirky “only in Iceland” acts singing in Icelandic—always a joy to behold—and the over-all level of musicianship has increased since I last attended ten years ago.

The past few Airwaves have lost boatloads of money, mostly due to the importation of big and expensive foreign acts. This year, under new management, reversed that trend, giving the locals a better representation and, hopefully, financial solvency. The festival organization was excellent, with well-trained and friendly staff making sure things ran smoothly. No late start times (in one case even early!) and the scheduling was arranged that there were not too many long lines. There were fewer off-venues this year, but the ones we attended were uniformly excellent, even transcendent at times.

A big thank-you has to go to the Icelandic musicians themselves, a close-knit community that is supportive and used to collaborating in various ways. In a festival situation that can backfire, but when it works it is simply magical. Jofriður Ákadóttir (JFDR), pictured above, was a great example of this, performing in at least five different shows. She is the most creative act in Iceland right now; her musical imagination is seemingly unlimited and she even has her own candy bar! To see her growth from humble beginnings in 2009 to today is remarkable, even for Iceland. Not a “one-trick-pony,” she transcends genres while remaining true to her central vision. I saw her backing the astounding Nini Julia Bang with three other performers (Liva Mo, Sóley, Áslaug Magnusdóttir) at the Nordic House playing to an audience of 25. She was just as into it then as she was a few days later when she played to a crowd of a thousand at Harpa.

There isn’t any really good way to sum up Airwaves, but I’ll end this with a list of some of the acts that I saw, where they played, and why I found them memorable:

Skúli Sverrisson og Bára Gísladóttir, KEX Hostel: a two bass hit!

Sóley and her father, Grund: the emotional high point of Airwaves.

Gróa, Ten Tónar: Teen-age rockers with unlimited potential.

Grúska Babúska, Húrra: Icelandic gypsy band: absolutely over-the-top fun.

Ateria, Húrra: Spooky teen-age Folk-Goth girls..

Reykjavíkurdætur, Art Museum: polished Feminist Rap collective.

Nini Julia Bang, Nordic House: voice artist, best act of the festival.

Vicky, Gaukurinn: hard rockers with no compromises.

Hugar, National Theatre: extremely disciplined ambient guitar/synth duo.

Högni, National Theatre: music, poetry, and theatrics perfectly combined.

Ólafur Arnalds, Nation Theatre: ambient/classical from the master.

Liva Mo, Nordic House: delightful singer, even better raconteur.

Bláskjár, Nordic House: songs from the heart, very touching.

Between Mountains, Gamla Bíó: yin/yang duo with unlimited potential.

Sólstafir, National Theatre: highly evolved metal, great spectacle.

Sóley, National Theatre: evocative electronica, Lynchian.

Hekla, Hitt Húsið: more music from the heart, very poignant and sincere.

Jóhanna Elísa, Hitt Húsið: very smooth pop with classical overtones, delightful.

Eivør, Harpa Flói: Faroese Valkyrie with a great drummer (Høgni Lisberg).

JFDR, Harpa Flói: bad venue, bad crowd, bad sound, still electrifying.


Looking back at this list it becomes pretty obvious that The National Theatre (Þjóðleikhúsið) was the premiere main venue, while The Nordic House (Norræna Húsið) was the best off-venue. Húrra had the best sound and Floí the worst. The most charming performance? A children’s choir at Fríkirkjan on Sunday (not an Airwaves event, but so worth it.)

Will I go back?

Never say never.

Epilog

Chapter 31 of Search For a Dancer, a memoir of a week spent in Iceland in November 2022

Three days after I had returned home I developed Covid. I quickly infected The Weaver.

It was a weird strain; we both got really sick and we both developed conjunctivitis. I went deaf. A few weeks later our first grandchild was born and he was sick, too (but not with Covid). Thankfully, by New Years Day we had all recovered.

Then I began to write this story.

I have been looking onto returning in 2023 but my interest seems to be waning. Flights are 50% more expensive, lodging is double, the Iceland Airwaves acts booked so far are, for the most part, uninspiring. Even the new theatre season lacks appeal. And I’ve read all of Halldór Laxness! The law of diminishing returns—forestalled by two decades of cultural discoveries—seems to finally have taken effect.

This party is over.

But… I will miss my days spent in Reykjavík ‘cool and crisp’: walking to the pool in the morning; chatting with the locals; sharing lunches with old blog-pals; afternoons spent idly roaming the streets; anticipating the evening’s cultural offerings. And those nights!

Iceland has been a major part of a third of my life.

Is the memory of a dancer in a noisy cellar enough to sustain me? Will these random scenes be enough to last the rest of my lifetime?
Krónan:

Tjörnin:

Perlan with Hringbraut:

Jofriður Ákadóttir:

Ásthildur Ákadóttir:

Marta Ákadóttir:

Jóhanna Rakel:

Karólina Einarsdóttir:

Björnsbakarí:

Baejarins beztu:

Tjörnín:

The charms o' the min', the langer they shine,
The mair admiration they draw, man;
While peaches and cherries, and roses and lilies,
They fade and they wither awa, man… ~ Robert Burns

                                    THE END

Iceland 2025 — Day Ten

A daytime moon was shining over Vesturbæjarlaug this morning.

Notice the woman/fish statue to the left of the doors.

Had some lively conversations in the pool’s biggest hotpot with some fellow Iceland Airwaves attendees: Troy from Texas who had known Tina and Barry (see yesterday’s post) for years. A German and a Finnish woman were very sociable as well. After a while Troy left (to do laps) and the talk turned from music to horses, so I made my exit as well. After an afternoon nap I attended another play in Tjarnarbíó (in English this time) Dead Air by Álfrún Rose:

Since Alfie’s dad died, he’s visited everyone’s dreams but hers. Rude. Desperate to talk to him, she uses AiR, an AI chatbot for the dead. A heartfelt, funny, and glitchy deep dive into grief, ghosts, and digital obsession.~ from the Airwaves guide

A good premise, somewhat defeated by an unintelligible voice-shifting device that Álfrún used when she was ‘streaming’ her dead father. The hour+ performance became a litany of dysfunctional family tropes, even more disturbing because I suspect they were all true. Because the show started late and ran over, I missed getting in to see Pussy Riot at Smekkleysa.

No worries, more music tonight!


Ms Obama — Heavy bass and dub step, my standing next to the sub woofers in Iðno to get a shot might have affected the sharpness of the pictures!

Hania Derej — A young pianist/composer from Poland:

She was completely enveloped in her music, scarcely raising her head from the keys. After her fantastic performance she was overcome with emotion from the enthusiastic response of the Fríkirkjan crowd.

JFDR

Of all the Icelandic performers I’ve followed over the years, Jofriður Ákadóttir is, simply, my favorite. From a plucky schoolgirl to a mature performer, following her development in music and lyrics has been an education for me in genres I probably would have never explored.

Dozens of FITK posts have been written over the years about her (and her twin sister Ásthildur), Pascal Pinon, Samaris, Gangly, and, of course, JFDR. She had a new ‘band’ tonight composed of friends and previous collaborators as well as her husband Josh.

They performed some new songs, one of which had intricate harmonies and was simply breath-taking. The packed church was spellbound. Jofriður also did My Work, Spectator and The Orchid, each with a new arrangement. She was in a great mood and this was a perfect setting for her performing style:

The group received a well-deserved ovation, one of the most memorable of the numerous Iceland Airwaves shows I’ve seen over the last 20 years:

I would have gone out again to see some more acts but it would have been a letdown after this.

My 2025 Iceland Airwaves is over.

More Icelandic trip coverage will be posted in the coming weeks after I’ve returned home.

Ólafur and Friends

A new video featuring Icelandic and affiliated musicians on the power of collaboration:



I’ve experienced performances by most of these artists, even the perfumer! There is even a scene of Jofriður Ákadóttir in her ultra-cool studio in the Icelandic countryside as well as various backgrounds in Reykjavík and Seltjarnarnes.

A perfect counter to my rant last Monday (about The Reykjavík Grapevine,) this video makes me want to go back…

Dreaming of Airwaves I

Somehow whenever the heat index rises above 100°F I start dreaming of Iceland in general and the Iceland Airwaves music festival in particular. A few weeks ago the weather was the proper incubation temperature so I retrived a few evocative photos from 2018, pre-covid, when things such as flying to concerts overseas was simpler.

Eivør (below) is a force of nature; classically trained singer, rock ‘n’ roll guitarist. Numerous reaction videos from voice trainers as well as people who had never heard her before attest to the magic of her live performances:

The teens and their melancholy melodies of Ateria captured both the Weaver’s hearts and mine when we saw them three times in 2018. They have been active since then, but due to their age (they were still in high school) they have been limited in their live performances. Fiercely original, it is always a delight to hear them performing their own material:

Of course Jofriður Ákadóttir is no stranger to these pages. For over 14 years she has been at the forefront of the Icelandic music scene. While much of her music is quite ethereal, there is a fire in her that emerges in flashes of intensity. I’ll be reviewing her latest album, Museum, next week:

The Dancer

Chapter 27 of Search For a Dancer, a memoir of a week spent in Iceland in November 2022

Fríða, Hrafnhildur, and Karòlína are Groá.

These are the three young women who stole my heart at the 2018 Iceland Airwaves. This neo-punk-feminist band with a DYI ethic took the Icelandic music scene by storm when they emerged from nowhere to make it into the finals of Músíktilraunir, an Icelandic music competition.

A cellar full of noise. The basement of Smekkleysa is not the most ideal venue, but it suited the group’s performance: up close and personal, with Groá’s in-your-face attitude and high spirits amplified by the hard concrete cube of a room. The group’s sound has evolved as they have grown over the last five years with hints of Captain Beefheart and even some funky drumming to enliven the Dada-esque proceedings.

When one of the audience members stripped to her underwear and began drumming and dancing with the band the energy level of the room ratcheted upwards as she shimmied and gyrated among the crowd. When she climbed upon a platform next to the stage the place went berserk as she showed off her embroidered bloomers with a logo stitched on them: ‘Granny Pants.’

I then realized that this wild “hype dancer” was Marta Ákadóttir, sister to Jofriður and Ásthildur. I had seen her in some videos a couple of years ago. Her exuberant performance touched me – actually! She rubbed up against me as she climbed up the stairway where I was standing and shook her posterior at the crowd below. It’s been a while since I have had that sort of contact with a twenty-something woman. A true multimedia experience - I could even smell her! To raise the insanity level even further, when Marta returned to the floor she whipped out a recorder and began noodling along.

The set ended and, since I was the defacto doorman, I held the door open so as to allow the overheated crowd to decompress. The band members seized to opportunity to cool off and zoomed by me for some fresh air. I joined them a few minutes later and thanked them profusely for their great show. I mentioned to Marta that I had seen her videos (see link previous) and she was mortified/thrilled. “I thought no one had seen those! I did them for a class,” she said, with a big smile. I smiled in return, then it was smiles all around, we were all still on a performance high. I walked away blowing them kisses.

The love flowing between these women was palpable. This was not a show-biz ‘act’, it was a flowering of unfettered female spirit and a celebration of life.

I had found my dancer.

Image: Gabriel Backman Waltersson via Flaunt


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