If you’re not familiar with Eurovision, you must read this. (And then get ready for next year’s competition.)

Sjonni’s Friends was Iceland’s 2011 entry, which somehow managed to make it all the way to the semi-finals. It’s not that this is a bad song, it’s just, well, very Eurovision-y. But what’s most notable about this song is the story behind it.

This song was written by Sigurjon ‘Sjonni’ Brink, who died before the Icelandic national final for the Eurovision Contest. Rather than pack up and give up, his friends decided to perform Sjonni’s song anyway, eventually becoming Iceland’s official Eurovision representative. Which, in the end, is a very nice tribute for their friend.

And this being Eurovision and all, I have to include a bit of odd, so here’s the official band description from the Eurovision website:

This is a group of six individuals who have one thing in common. Palmi is the old and wise one, Hreimur is the innocent and sincere one, Matthias provides the comic relief, Benedikt is the good-looking, cheerful one, Vignir is the silent, mysterious type and Gunnar is the bad boy. Together they are Sjonni‘s Friends.

Worm Is Green started as the bedroom electronica project of Arni Asgeirsson, who soon enlisted longtime friends from his hometown of Akranes, Iceland (population 5,500) to flesh out his melodic soundscapes. Solidifying into a group, Worm Is Green began recording the songs that would become Automagic, released overseas in 2004 on Iceland’s Thule Musik (home of múm and The Funerals) and now available in the U.S. on Arena Rock.

Critically praised throughout Europe, Automagic is a wondrous album that pairs Asgeirsson’s intricate sound constructions with a potent rhythm section and the haunting, otherworldly vocals of Gudridur Ringsted. Her ethereal singing peppers a record that flits between ambient dream pop and slightly menacing electro-organic music with beats.

Ringsted shines brightest on a risky cover of Joy Division’s beloved “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” a dramatically different take on a classic that was recorded as a request from Thule Musik’s owner. “He wanted to hear a chillout version with female vocals,” Asgeirsson notes. “The result was very surprising, and everybody liked it, so we decided to put it alongside the other tracks we’d previously recorded for Automagic.”

And here’s their cover of the Joy Division classic:

And since I love you, here’s an added bonus—Kronos Quartet covering “Flugufrelsarinn”:

And as you may know, or have already guessed, this is Jón Þór “Jónsi” Birgisson of Sigur Ros . . . It all comes back to Sigur Ros, always.

Up now is which was started by Sindri Már Sigfússon (who also records as ) but expanded into a full seven-piece band when Seabear was asked to open for The Books (another all-time favorite band of mine).

In the category of “Iceland Is So Small Everyone Knows Everyone,” Seabear member Kjartan Bragi Bjarnason is also in a band called Kimono that has released three albums on Bragi Olafsson’s label, Smekkleysa (which translates as “Bad Taste”).

There are a number of songs that I’d like to include from Seabear’s We Built a Fire, including and but decided to go with “I’ll Build You a Fire.” Enjoy!

First up is today’s morning song—“Tunglið” by Ólafur Arnalds from his recent album . . . And They Have Escaped the Weight of Darkness. This album is filled with peaceful, emotive pieces that are perfect for easing into your day (or recovering from the spook of a car accident?).

Here’s a bit of the Pitchfork (“World’s Most Obnoxious Music Website”(tm))¹ review of this album:

Ólafur Arnalds is a young Icelandic musician whose work defines “architectural,” as bulky strings are built around skeletal frameworks of piano, sometimes with sparse electronic loops for detail. He has a strong ear for proportion and balance, as if a single misplaced sound could trigger a collapse. At worst, his music can feel conservative and utilitarian, or overly cautious. There’s a thin line between having an indelible personal stamp and charting by numbers. But at best, Arnalds’ lucid forms and themes produce an agreeable opulence.

Not surprisingly, Ólafur Arnalds played with Sigur Rós . . . He’s also all of 25 years old. I suspect he’ll be putting out pretty albums for quite some time to come.

¹ As someone who reads “p4k” nearly every day, it’s maybe a bit hypocritical to say something like this. But whatever. Aside from the occasional perceptive review (usually written by Douglas Wolk), most of these pieces are reflections on a sort of “approved Pitchfork lifestyle.” It’s not about the music, it’s about the determined coolness of being associated with that music. Some musical styles are “hip,” others are backwards looking, anything more experimental than Animal Collective are dismissed as niche.

Emilíana Torrini is an Icelandic singer-songwriter, born on 16 May 1977 in Kópavogur, Iceland. Her full name is Emilíana Torrini Davíðsdóttir. She is best known for her 2009 single “Jungle Drum,” for the closing theme entitled Gollum’s Song of The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers film, and for her international debut album, _Love in the Time of Science. _

Her father is Italian and her mother Icelandic. Emilíana grew up in Kópavogur, where at the age of 7, she joined a choir as a soprano, until she went to opera school at the age of 15. Later she worked as waitress at her father’s restaurant from Iceland. In 1994, Emilíana became well-known in Iceland after winning the song competition of junior colleges in Iceland (Icelandic: Söngkeppni framhaldsskólanna), at the age of 17, singing “I Will Survive”.

Torrini’s Me and Armini is a very sweet album, with a number of catchy pop song, like the aforementioned and the incessantly bouncy But instead of going with one of those, I decided to play my favorite song from her album, the more spooky “Gun.”

Here’s a description from

Amiina’s debut album, Kurr (2007), was performed on a disparate jumble of instruments—musical saws, kalimbas, music boxes and seemingly anything that could be plucked, bowed or beaten on—resulting in a work that ebbed and flowed “in a strange, powerful place between sophistication and innocence,” according to The Guardian.

While the above is equally true of Puzzle (2010), this time around the group’s sonic palette is broadened by the contributions of drummer Magnús Trygvason Eliassen and electronic artist Kippi Kaninus (Guðmundur Vignir Karlsson), permanent members of the group since 2009. Accordingly, the songs on Puzzle are more rhythmically rugged than amiina’s previous work and feature heavier use of electronics. amiina’s long-standing fondness for zero-g melodies and open-minded instrumentation, however, continues.

“Rugla”—the song embedded below—comes from Kurr, and is a very pleasant way to wake up on a Tuesday morning . . .

“Birthday” was what really put The Sugarcubes on the map, and evokes a very particular period of time (for me at least). It’s charming song, one that Bjork referred to as a “tasteless pop song.” In her own words:

“It’s a story about a love affair between a five year old girl, a secret and a man who lives next door. The song’s called Birthday because it’s his fiftieth birthday, but not many people can figure that out of the lyrics ‘cos it’s more about the atmosphere around it and how they touch. It’s a tasteless pop song—not even that. A pop song—very unusual”

“I was always changing my mind about what the lyrics should be about. I had the atmosphere right from the start but not the facts. It finally ended up concentrating on this experience I remembered having as a little girl, among many other little girls’ experiences. It’s like huge men, about fifty or so, affect little girls very erotically but nothing happens . . . nothing is done, just this very strong feeling. I picked on this subject to show that anything can affect you erotically; material, a tree, anything.”

Yep. More Icelandic music and books tomorrow!