America's fascination with Iceland is a relatively new phenomenon. Beginning with the explosion of Björk and The Sugarcubes onto the international scene in the late 1980s, Iceland's rich musical culture has created an alluring image of the small island and its people. The country's unique artistic scene is a product of a different national outlook that, if espoused by other countries, could help build a stronger international music community.
The American public's perception of Iceland as a beautiful, mysterious island filled with glaciers and volcanoes is perfectly complemented by the nation's music, which often features voluptuous melodies and vast soundscapes typified by groups like Sigur Rós.
"Most of the songs I heard [in Iceland] were louder drone and shoegaze tracks that could vamp for a long time with the same kind of pulse. They sounded powerful and grand in a way similar to the magnitude of the geographical features," said Neil Foxman, a freshman who visited the country over spring break with a group of friends.
Iceland's small population — roughly 300,000 — gives the island a tight-knit vibe that translates itself readily to the music scene. Cities like Boston and New York have populations that dwarf Iceland's, creating a busier, more hectic environment for aspiring musicians. While Bostonians are accustomed to larger venues like the Bank of America Pavilion and clubs like Central Square's The Middle East, Iceland's performance spaces are predominately small bars with stages. This smaller scope, combined with capital city Reykjavik's diminutive size, makes for a more communal concert-going experience that combines listeners from all age groups.
It's hard to imagine seeing a Bostonian crowd singing along with a fledgling band at one of its first gigs, but such a sight is commonplace in Iceland, where new musical acts are welcomed with a warmth rarely seen in the States.
"You can see that everyone in Iceland loves their bands. Everyone sang along, even when the band was playing newer material. We all got really into it, even though we were the only foreigners there," Cameron Yu, a sophomore who also visited over spring break, said.
Part of this unique reception can be attributed to the musical institutions of Iceland, which are dedicated to providing aspiring musicians with exposure and funding for new projects. Institutions like the Kraumur Music Fund, which is advised by musical giants like Björk and Kjartan Sveinsson of Sigur Rós, provide financial and public-relations support for new groups.
Even the government gets involved. The state-sponsored Iceland Music Export devotes itself to increasing global awareness of Icelandic music by promoting new albums overseas and providing information about local artists on its website.
Iceland's well-honed musical sensibility has even brought popular American bands to its stage before their names were established at home. The annual Iceland Airwaves festival is the most common platform for exposing new local and international artists. Every year, droves of Europeans and Americans with an ear for new music and unfamiliar bands attend the five-day festival, which has been covered by publications as reputable as The New York Times.
Brooklyn-based indie rock group Clap Your Hands Say Yeah played one of the most popular concerts of the festival back in 2004, before its first album was even released. The fact that such an isolated place could keep tabs on Brooklyn's underground music scene is impressive, and the exposure the country gives to bands from around the world is laudable.
The warm reception received by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah is a testament to how willingly Icelanders absorb new music. Other notable bands that have played the festival include TV on the Radio, Hot Chip and Thievery Corporation. This year, American indie-rockers Beach House will be playing the festival, which will take place Oct. 12-16.
Part of Iceland's musical zest stems back to the years after World War II, when Iceland's material wealth grew exponentially after British and American occupation forces drove down unemployment and galvanized a new political movement that emphasized national productivity. For the first time in the country's history, Icelandic citizens had the wealth and cultural exposure necessary to develop a music industry.
Until this point, Icelandic music had been firmly based in medieval traditions that stemmed back to the nation's settlement in the ninth century. Icelanders' exceptional musical receptiveness capitalized on these new cultural opportunities, triggering an artistic explosion. The vibrancy of Iceland's culture is largely a result of this zeal for both local and international artists, unmatched by other European nations with more historically rooted musical traditions.
This unique attitude has been a major source of appeal for musically minded travelers around the world.
"Iceland's music was definitely a reason for my visit. There's a lot of good stuff coming out of there — some folk/classical/electronic fusion that you can't find anywhere else," sophomore Ben Weitzman said in a reference to Bedroom Community, a record label that features artists as diverse as Iceland's Valgeir Sigurðsson and America's pre-eminent composer wunderkind, Nico Muhly.
Despite Reykjavik's relatively small population — compare its roughly 120,000 people to New York City's 8.2 million-electronic, classical, pop and virtually every other major genre is equally represented within the capital, with clubs hosting acts specializing in everything from shoegaze to folk.
"One of the craziest moments of the trip was a bossa nova show we saw in a Haitian cafe in Reykjavik. I couldn't believe what a strange combination of cultures there was in that room," Yu said.
The prevalence of American country music on Icelandic radio was equally surprising.
"I hardly expected to drive through the west fjords listening to Toby Keith," Weitzman said.
Iceland's considerable musical receptiveness did not prevent a degree of culture shock from gripping a few Tufts students who visited. One of Iceland's premier up-and-coming bands, Agent Fresco, was described as having jazz and funk influences by posters around the city. The concert, however, was a little different from its advertisements.
"I think their genres are a little confused — they ended up being this grungy math rock band. I was a little surprised," Weitzman said.
Iceland's different perception of genre has helped make its eclectic music scene what it is. The students said that the bands they saw combined genres in new, interesting ways.
"Icelandic bands aren't afraid to experiment. When I saw Borko, they had a horn section playing along with synth pop lines and a live drummer, who played rock beats all night long. Definitely unusual," Yu said.
Iceland's unique musical culture marks a welcome change of pace from Boston's more hectic scene, yet while the open-mindedness and musical diversity of Reykjavik is impressive, the larger populations of American cities like Boston and New York give them more bands to draw from. In fact, the fiercer competition within American urban musical circuits has led to a musical culture that can prize marketability over ingenuity and ambition.
Yet while the vast array of groups and music scenes within American culture make it incomparable to the smaller pool of musicians in Iceland, the gap may not be unbridgeable — the two countries boast different but ultimately complementary music cultures that can serve to diversify many a listener's playlist.
