The Reykjavik Grapevine

Skorpulifur

So this is interesting. It’s carefully machinated party rock, seemingly designed to have the impact of an incredibly fat man jumping onto a dinner table full of food and smashing it, showering everything with bacon and soda. It is, all at once, very Icelandic – homegrown, uncertain and self-taught in nature; and also very American – unwholesome, trashy, over-the-top, distasteful and disgusting; and at the same time, very European – obscure, inaccessible and repetitive. I don’t know what the fuck this is, but it’s very interesting, fairly enjoyable, almost unbearable and absolutely nonsensical.