As may be expected, way too much stuff has happened in the past 7 days to cram into one easily readable blog post. In the interest of making your reading experience (and my writing experience) less tedious, I'm going to break down my Iceland adventures into several posts roughly according to subject. Please bear with me; since I am not at home yet (I am currently decompressing in the verdant splendor of Vermont) I am currently using a strange computer and things could take a while to get up and running. Don't begin your marathon mope session just yet, kids, a riveting summary of the Icelandic music scene is coming up in mere seconds! Seconds, I tell you! Well, depending upon how fast you read...
As I mentioned in my earlier teaser post, I was in Iceland mainly for the big splendiferous Airwaves music festival. My friend Joe lived in Iceland for a few years a couple of decades ago, and has several good friends there. He has attended Airwaves annually for several years as most of his Icelandic pals are musicians and perform there with happy regularity. We were lucky enough to get to stay in the studio that his friend Valgeir owns--lucky in the sense that it's typically full of other musicians who are there to record--there was one spare room left.
I feel compelled to describe this studio in some detail because it is a thing of beauty. While I haven't spent too much time in recording studios in my lifetime, I do know that they tend to be structures of streamlined functionality. This one, however, is a work of art; a space that is a joy to be in. The main recording space itself (there are two) is an architectural masterpiece of natural light, high sloped ceilings, lots of wood and dynamic angles. The astounding number of cables and wiring are cleverly hidden away, so you are surrounded by nothing but windows and wood and instruments. I wasn't able to take any photographs because people were, well, using it! But if you click on that "studio" link above and then go to "studio tour" you can see some fine pictures of both recording rooms. I also feel compelled to mention that this exact space was where Bjork recorded two of her albums (Vespertine and Medulla). I felt even more elated at being in that space once I found that out. Can you imagine?!
Evenings in Reykjavik were spent running from one venue to another, seeing lots of hot Icelandic musicians in intimate venues, being surrounded at times by crushing crowds, meeting new and interesting drunk Icelanders, and people watching. During the course of the festival I saw over 26 artists play in at least twelve different venues, three of which were bars full of noisy drunk folk, but this mostly didn't interfere with my appreciation of the music. Daytimes were spent rushing up and down Laugavegur (rushing necessitated by the wind and frigid temperatures), the main happenin' street downtown, punctuated by small leisurely interludes at Sandholt, our favorite pastry shop, and watching musicians from Bedroom Community perform "off venue" in small cafes.Some of my favorite experiences were at the smaller venues--the unofficial performances.
These were often in very small coffee houses, bars, music shops, and bookstores, and I was sometimes inches away from the musicians themselves. At one performance I was sitting on the floor and had serious concerns about getting my eye poked out by the lead singer/cellist's bow. These casual shows were less polished but more revealing of the artists' personalities and therefore more fun for me.My very favorite performance was one in a tiny room next to a bar, crammed with about
25 people sitting on floors, couches, and unused amps, where people were passing around astounding amounts of canned beer to anyone who walked in the door. Sam Amidon was playing (one of the artists from the studio) and he was just crazy silly fun. Sam sings folk songs and shares amusing anecdotes as part of his act, but this particular venue encouraged him to really cut loose. He ended up running around the studio during one of his songs, rolling on the floor and doing push ups while he was singing. 
At one point his good friend Shazhad rushed in out of nowhere and started playing wild percussion to his antics; it was all spontaneous joyful goofiness. We ended the performance by playing a game where we all had to stand up, and using one hand only, tried to "kill" everyone else in the room around us by poking them in the back. You had to lie on the floor once you were dead...a lot of jumping and shouting and dramatic death throes ensued.Another highlight was the communal dinner we all had at the studio--about 14 people or so were there; musicians, friends, studio manager-types, and one press guy. It was like when you sit down to eat a big holiday dinner with family only a lot better because everyone got along so well.
I was particularly happy because nearly everyone there welcomed me as a friend, instead of a non-musician nobody they didn't want to give the time of day. The press guy at one point remarked at how much like a community this studio was, and how unusual he felt that is in the industry. I can appreciate that, and I found it to be true as well. The main performance of the Bedroom Community folks on Friday night embodied this element of camaraderie and musical fellowship--at a few points during the show everyone from the studio was on stage at the same time, playing and stomping and dancing, jumping up and down, making faces at each other, and the energy they created was this live vibrant thing throbbing in the air all around us.
