Review Summary: Sólstafir continues to capture a dark, cinematic experience six albums down the line.
It was three years ago when people truly started to notice Sólstafir. During this time, the Icelandic quartet had released their seminal fifth album,
“Ótta”. Not only was the album met with universal acclaim, which commemorated the emotional tug that the album demonstrated, Sólstafir also left a long trail of sublime, immersive live performances in its wake. A dormant volcano will patiently to gather its underlying pressure and erupt in spectacular fashion. The same can be said for Sólstafir’s swift success.
Nevertheless, despite the grandeur that
“Ótta” exhibited in portraying Old Iceland culture and the terrain of the country, there were destructive aftershocks. Most notably was the sudden firing of their drummer, Guðmundur “Gummi” Óli Pálmason, which resulted in a bitter, public outrage from the founding member back in 2015. Between the tour cycle of
“Ótta” and the recording of Sólstafir’s new album,
“Berdreyminn”, this broken friendship resulted in unsuccessful suing of the band. With that constant shadow over the band and the daunting task of having to follow up a visionary modern masterpiece, there was a sense of uncertainty in Sólstafir’s latest offering.
If
“Ótta” was Sólstafir walking out into bitter winds and exposing themselves to the elements, looking outwards across the vast landscape of their homeland, then
”Berdreyminn” is them looking inwards, to themselves, and shrinking back into the comforts of a warm, snug and safe sanctuary. “Silfur-Refur” still contains the traditional minimalistic instrumentation and heartbreaking vocals that most of Sólstafir’s songs revolve around, most predominately during “Hula”. However, it’s down to the murkiness of Sæþór Mar*us Sæþórsson’s grooves to enhance the feelings of comfort and familiarity within the secluded melodies and gazing synth. In spite of an avalanche tragedy that hit an Icelandic fishing village in 1995, which is what the song is based on, affection and refuge can be unearthed in “Hv*t Sæng” through the band’s bracing riffs and fragile singing. Aðalbjörn Tryggvason’s vocals reveal a Nick Cave resemblance in that they are often centred atop some grim, undemanding harmonies such as a quivering violin note or a delicate guitar slide.
Ever-evolving in their career and ever-evading categorisation, Sólstafir now advances towards classic rock territories in an attempt to broaden their sound further, and the results are interesting. Alternatively, rather than relying on creating a tentative, brooding atmosphere by stretching the song’s durations, Sólstafir instead fills this space with content. “Ísafold” and “Bláfjall” could both easily follow this aforementioned formula, however, an upbeat Thin Lizzy influence in the former is injected into the riffs while Svavar Austmann’s jazzy bass lines and some brawny riffs are unearthed towards the end of the latter. Whatever
”Berdreyminn” loses in mesmeric ambience is regained with unannounced, infectious hooks.
One track that summarises the entire album is “Dýrafjörður”. Commencing with beautiful strings and a hypnotic piano rhythm, Sólstafir gradually launches into an ordinary yearning crescendo. What makes “Dýrafjörður” a representative track of the album is its dissimilarities to Sólstafir’s standard routine. Although the structure revolves around a standard crescendo and despondent aura, Sólstafir alter the way in which they create it. Instead of the crystalline production, the guitars utilise a dirty rock element that surfaces spontaneously throughout the album while sacrificing none of the delicate post-rock atmospheres they construct. And that is the key essence of
”Berdreyminn” : no, Sólstafir haven’t changed what they have already mastered doing; they’ve simply changed the technique in which they do it.
