Electronic Sound July 2015 (Regular Edition) | Page 31

mentioned musical influences, such as
on the enchanting and sparse ‘Nótt (One
For The Girls)’ or ‘Ég Vildi Fegin’, where
the vocal is to the fore and the strings,
clarinet and modular synth meander and
layer before a trip hop beat fades in, but
this is rare. Mostly, the unfolding and
building of each track aims to take you
elsewhere, beyond pop, beyond dance
music, provoking images of distant
horizons, the elements, echoes, and a
sense of something ancient, yet modern.

SAMARIS

Silkidrangar Sessions
ONE LITTLE INDIAN

The one-time Battles frontman
brings his collaborative performance
piece to the studio
Electronic trio Áslaug Rún Magnúsdóttir
(clarinet), Þórður Kári Steinþórsson
(electronics) and Jófríður Ákadóttir
(vocals) cite Aphex Twin, Tricky, Bjork
and Wu-Tang Clan as just some of the
artists that helped shape the sound of
Samaris – a sound which is both thoughtprovoking and serene.
Since winning Iceland’s Músíktilraunir
competition in 2011, they have been
pretty prolific with their output.
‘Silkidrangar Sessions’ is a companion
to last year’s ‘Silkidrangar’ album,
containing eight reworked tracks from
the original, including guest musicians
adding the likes of tabla, cello and
saxophone. The extra layers of sound
complement tracks like the upbeat
shuffle of ‘Þótt Hann Rigni’, or bring a
new perspective with the suggestion
of an eerie subtext (‘Brennur Slauga’).
Yet no track is cluttered or excitable –
there is still a sense of pure, minimalist
electronica here, at its finest for ‘Lífsins
Ólgudub’.
Sometimes you can hear their above-

There’s a theme of duality here too:
analogue and digital, live and studio,
spontaneity and structure. In ‘Hrafninn’,
an instrumental track aside from its
husky chants (think Gilli Smyth circa
70s), the music seems to weave a
narrative that is both intriguing and
pleasing. The next step would be to
invite dancers to devise choreography. It
would totally work.
With old Sugarcubes members
championing them and that glorious
Icelandic confidence in art for art’s
sake, it’s easy to miss the real legacy
that these young artisans uphold. It is
certainly krautrock, if not just in attitude.
For starters, when recording the original
‘Silkidrangar’ album they had prepared
lyrics, but then they found a book of 19th

century Icelandic poetry on a shelf in the
studio and changed their plan. It meant
that the sounds of the words, rather than
the words themselves, became even
more relevant, less a vocal and more part
of the ensemble. This album in particular
uses improvisation and spontaneity in a
fresh new way: the criteria being that the
tracks were unknown to the contributing
musicians who only heard them once
and were allowed to play as long as they
needed, almost doubling the length of
the songs. The whole thing was produced
in just two days.
When you hear that ‘Silkidrangar’
translates as “silken cliffs” it all makes
total sense of the expansive compositions
and pleasing rhythms and tones. It’s
a beautiful record, intense because
everything matters, but there is also a
clarity to each track that seems beyond
Samaris’ years.
Often a tag of experimental music
suggests that the artist or collective have
forgotten we are listening – ploughing
forth and breaking down boundaries
becomes the priority. This not the case
with Samaris, whose experimentations
should be wholly encouraged.
NGAIRE RUTH