There’s One Born Every Minute
Arriving an hour and a half after the doors opened, the photographer and I couldn’t help but notice that there were about seven people in the club, the stage already […]
T-Model Ford
We interviewed T-Model for the last issue, and complained that his comments may be repeated a bit too often, and that his music wasn’t appreciated enough. We were amused, then, [
Grapevine Presents: Benni Hemm Hemm Live at Hotel Borg, March 30th
For our second podcast, the Grapevine presents Benni Hemm Hemm’s Hotel Borg performance of March 30th, 2006, in its entirety. We are skipping the introductions and interviews for
If Tattoos Were Instruments
When Jón Atli of Hairdoctor told me the opening line he was planning, I was expecting a rumble. Jón Atli is a small, well-groomed… well, pretty boy with a good […]
You’ll Be Dead in Three Years:
The last 18 months have been productive for singer and songwriter Þórir Georg Jónsson (also known by his interesting stage name My Summer as a Salvation Soldier). In 2004, Þór
First Annual Þórir Week Approaches Climax with Grapevine Podcast
The Grapevine’s First Annual Þórir Week reaches dizzying heights today, Friday, March 3, as Þórir takes to downtown Reykjavík to bring his music to the people. Starting at 5
Entertain Us
Slightly exhausted on the last day of Christmas, the Grapevine made it out to Laugardalshöll for a corporate-sponsored, all ages concert, which, were it not one night before the b
Ampop: My Delusions
Why does everyone whose band can do a halfway-passable impression of Radiohead suddenly think they’re qualified musicians? I don’t propose to answer that, but I will tell you t
A Taste for Corn Liquor
When my attempt to interview the blues legend T-Model Ford in one of his favourite juke joints of Clarksdale, Mississippi fails, I take the offer of his colleague Lightning Malcolm
Ðe lónlí blú bojs: Komplít
If you feel like buying a Björgvin Halldórsson album (may God have mercy on your soul), but don’t have the financial standings to shell out 2,500 ISK for the three-disc [&helli
Editor’s Choice
Hairdoctor: Shampoo Hairdoctor snuck up on us—known more for their hairdressing and DJing at Sirkus bar, they seemed to be taking advantage of the good will they’d built up whe
Megasukk: Hús datt
Hús datt is a collection of 21 deliciously short collaborations between perverted drunkard/master wordsmith Megas and oddball country duet Súkkat, and the result walks a fine lin
Björgvin Halldórsson: Ár og öld
It should come as no surprise that middle-aged pop celebrity Björgvin Halldórsson’s dabbling in country, rock and blues have aged far better than his cheesy, contrived power ba
Blues Gone Wild
Bob Log III, the black sheep of Mississippi blues label Fat Possum Records, hit Iceland like a more hormonal, if more awkward, Matthew McConaughey. The stoner charm of his voice [&
Hjálmar: Hjálmar
Swedish-Icelandic reggae group Hjálmar’s self-titled sophomore release is its predecessor’s superior in every way. The songs have lost their careless let’s-all-get-high atmo
Wish We Were There
Grapevine resources were stretched too thin, and no reporter was able to document the chemistry of Mugison, Trabant and Hjálmar playing together at NASA just before the holidays.
Sálin hans Jóns míns: Undir þínum áhrifum
Sálin have seemingly discarded their usual forthrightness for a more scattered, loose approach, opting for a blander, more finely crafted style of guitar-pop than the catchy, hook
Sturdy Bar Required
Walking into Hressó on December 21st to see a Þórir gig, it felt a bit like New Year’s Day—the party had obviously already happened, and Reykjavík! was entirely responsible
Worm Is Green: Push Play
A placid, atmospheric selection of electro trip-hop with a lyrical fixation on lonely robots, Push Play oozes listlessly from song to song, finding comfort in radio-friendly conten
Atmospheric Basement
Some bands are possessed of an eerie, if not very adventurous, talent: The ability to sound almost exactly the same live as they do on record. Worm Is Green is […]
Svala: Bird of Freedom
Endearing attempts at halfway-decent pop composition occasionally poke through on this soulless, soggy stool sample of an album, but they are almost completely buried under a mount