Interviews
Iceland’s múm Talks Music Making During Economic Collapse
The pop music of Iceland has, more often than not, reflected the starkness and beauty inherent in the frigid climate and craggy terrain. For the music and arts collective múm, its folk-infused glitch-pop has gleaned influence from its surroundings. The 2002 album, Finally We Are No One, was even recorded in a lighthouse. On the newest album, Sing Along to Songs you Don’t Know, however, múm has pulled its influence from the political landscape that erupted recently during Iceland’s financial meltdown. During this period of upheaval, múm created Sing Along to Songs you Don’t Know as a respite from the protests on the streets of Reykjavik; the peacefulness of the music, the group’s most subdued album to date, was a space of quiet amid the political clamor. Here, Örvar Þóreyjarson Smárason, one of the band’s principal members and multi-instrumentalists, speaks about the album, language, and what the world needs to learn from Iceland.
What are the major differences between Sing Along to Songs You Don’t Know and your other albums?
Örvar Þóreyjarson Smárason: It is by any stress-o-meter our most tranquil album, it’s simpler and from some angles it’s almost transparent—but only from some angles. This is what is most sets it apart. Go Go Smear the Poison Ivy was probably the most complex of all our albums because of the shear amount of instrument tracks, but making albums like Summer Make Good were just as draining process. No album has flowed as easy for us as this one.
In the past you’ve recorded albums in both English and Icelandic. What language do you think better conveys the emotions in your songs?
We seem to reach more people with english lyrics, so we have scrapped the Icelandic lyrics for a while at least. But actually I write much more in Icelandic than in English: poetry, lyrics and fiction. It’s obviously a whole different thing for me to write in my mother tongue.
What kind of commonalities have you heard coursing through Icelandic music, both contemporary and traditional?
I’m not sure, but I think there is a strange balance of people taking their music very seriously and very lightly at the same time, which is something I have noticed running through it all. Other than that I can’t really think of any threads that run through Icelandic music, it’s very open and very diverse whatever way you look at it.
Why did you decide to record some of this album outside of Iceland?
That wasn’t really a decision we needed to make, we will record anywhere that suits us, anywhere that’s beautiful, where it is quiet and we can relax while we work, eat, sleep, read and drink. And I think this is what we will keep on doing and we are really open to coming and recording anywhere that chance will take us. If someone wants to lend us their house, we will be there.
You’ve recorded in many different environments, including a light house during the recording of Finally We Are No One. Describe the locations where you recorded this album.
Most of it was probably done at home in our bedrooms. Quite a lot of it was recorded in Gunni’s parents summer house, which is in a very quiet place about two hours from Reykjavík. We recorded quite a lot in the week we spent in a 14th century house in the Estonian country side surrounded by lakes. Most of the drums were recorded in Finland, where our drummer lives and bits and bobs were recorded in Berlin and upstate New York.
In what ways does your living and studio environment color the sound of your albums?
We don’t really think about what influences the music that much, dissections and autopsies like that aren’t really apart of any creative process. So we let others think about stuff like this. But we very rarely record in conventional studios, except when we really need to or when they are exceptional studios. Things tend to get much more stressed in recording studios, simply because there, time literally seems to be money. That’s not healthy, time shouldn’t really equal money, especially not when creating music.
Between the release of Go Go Smear the Ivy in 2007 and this record in 2009, Iceland has undergone a great deal of change. Economic and political strife have become part of the island’s landscape. In what ways did these events hinder or help your creative process?
Örvar Þóreyjarson Smárason: Through the collapse of the financial system and the government there was an amazing eruption of energy in the people here and we feel blessed to have been witness to it, even though as time passes there hasn’t been as much change as we had hoped for. Far from it. But times of turmoil always release creative powers, so I think it influenced everyone in Iceland. Staying out in the streets, banging pots and pans, screaming and protesting will bring out the best in anyone.
How has the collapse of the Icelandic government affected the funding for the arts? What kind of affect has it had on small music acts and larger bands there?
We have never really had a proper art funding system here in Iceland, at least not for “pop” music. múm has really only once received a grant from the government and it was unsubstantial, so I think it won’t have much affect on the bands around us. Some of the banks started sponsoring the arts in one way or the other, but we steered clear of that.
Apart from sharing the same throw-away culture, I think Iceland and the US couldn’t be more different and I don’t think there are many lessons a confused ex-colony can give a morbidly obese super-power.
You recorded this album partially in Finland and Estonia, two countries that are quickly becoming innovators in technology. In the few years since Estonia shed its Russian occupancy, it has seen an incredible rise in living standard and industrial importance. Its path seems similar to that of Iceland after its independence. What can Estonia learn from Iceland’s current political and economic strife?
Not to trust the hypnotized disciples of Friedman and not to give in to the sirens of mass privatization. Icelanders got charmed in to a trance like state where nothing mattered more than owning the newest things and the biggest cars and when they woke up from the trance, they felt violated and hurt, but had no idea who to blame. We lost so much to liberal economic vandalism, but the biggest thing we lost was our self-respect.
What can America learn from Iceland?
Apart from sharing the same throw-away culture, I think Iceland and the US couldn’t be more different and I don’t think there are many lessons a confused ex-colony can give a morbidly obese super-power. Everyone living in the west have many lessons to learn and the best way to do so is being open to new ideas, new feelings and emotions. We probably won’t get anywhere by dictating morals or lecturing each other.
from Filter Magazine Online 09.24.09
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