Various Artists
Screaming Masterpiece
Original Music From The Film
One Little Indian
It’s one of the ultimate rock recording clichés: A larger than life band holes itself up in some remote area, cuts itself off from the rest of the world, does a dump truck full of drugs, and records a legendary album. Led Zeppelin’s Zoso was made in such a way. The White Album was written when The Beatles were living in the Maharishi’s remote Indian encampment. So when pondering the incredible vibrancy and diversity of the Icelandic music scene, remember this – these musicians live on an island in the North Atlantic. They’ve been doing the rock star escapist thing since they were born. If you’re not aware of the grand scope of genres and moods that is Icelandic music, the soundtrack to the documentary Screaming Masterpiece couldn’t be a better introduction. The film, which follows major and minor Icelandic artists around the world over the course of two years, has yet to be released in the U.S., but its soundtrack is captivating enough on its own.
Björk and Sigur Rós, the country’s most famous exports, are well represented, showcasing the former at her ethereal best with a live version of “All Is Full Of Love,” “Oceania” from her Medúlla record and the dated-yet-charming Sugarcubes track “Motorcrash.” Sigur Rós’ typically epic “#8” from its astounding ( ) album is featured, as are two collaborations with Steindór Andersen, a master of an Icelandic form of epic singing and chanting called “rimur.” The second of these, “Hrafnagaldur (Odin's Raven Magic),” closes out the record, and features several other guest musicians, including a chamber choir and members of the Icelandic Symphony Orchestra. It’s a spiritual listening experience, a gentle dreamscape with ominous undertones, an 11-minute ode to a dark and enchanting island.
The lesser-known artists give the listener a complete vision of this burgeoning scene, showing that it’s not just a two-horse race. The Apparat Organ Quartet’s “Romantica” is a moody synth-rock instrumental that would make Kraftwerk and The Cure feel like proud fathers. “Odi Et Amo,” a solo piece from Apparat’s Jóhann Jóhannsson, is so mournfully operatic, it’s reminiscent of Howard Shore’s score to the Lord of the Rings films. Tracks from Slowblow and Mugison reflect the tender, molasses-soaked sound of bands like Iron & Wine and Sparklehorse. Ghostigital’s “Bank - Færeyjar, Bruxelles, Barcelona, Reykjavík” is one of the more bizarre pieces of dance music ever created. Essentially, it’s four minutes of a man having a nervous breakdown, screaming and gurgling the line “Where’s my money?” over a fuzzy, industrial beat.
Before listening to this profound, ghostly collection of songs, the subhead to its title might throw you: “1,000 years of Icelandic popular music.” You can take this as an over-promise (a millennium’s worth of music probably wouldn’t fit on one disc), but I think it’s meant to inspire a chuckle. After all, don’t most of us still think that only Americans, Brits and the occasional Canadian know how to rock? But even if you do find it a little arrogant, don’t let it stop you from listening. It’s tough not to lose yourself in several of these tracks, which will transport you into a waking dream with seemingly effortless grace. Screaming Masterpiece might not actually contain a lot of screaming, but the second half of its title is certainly apt.
Appeared in the December 1, 2005, issue of Artvoice.