BY TRISTA EDWARDS
I have always been drawn toward the music of the Nordic island country of Iceland. It is strange, attractive, and even when it is upbeat it feels dark and heartbreaking. It cracks me open.
Björk was my first introduction with her pleading, sincere vocals and eccentric style. I dug further back to explore her more playful first band, The Sugarcubes.
I’ve stayed up late writing into the morning overcome with emotion and wine listening to the gothic, operatic sounds of Sigar Rós.
I turned to track after track of Of Monsters and Men. Kaleo. Sólstafir. Amiina. Múm. I turn to this music when I want to be overpowered with feeling.
One Icelandic band, however, has been haunting me for months. I cannot get them out of my head. I listen to them while I write, cook, take a bath, apply lipstick, daydream, walk in the woods. I listen to them while I burn candles and lie in bed staring at the ceiling.
They make me feel sexy and sad. Adventurous. Alive with possibilities.
This band, Gangly, apparently hit the scene in 2014 and their identity remained hidden, adding to the seductive intrigue of their music, until earlier this year. As a mystery band, they submitted their two singles to their website as entrancing, odd, yet gorgeous music videos that feel like a visual cross between Björk and Tool’s Adam Jones’ filmic artistry. Now that their identities (Sindri Már Sigfússon, Jófríður Ákadóttir, and Oyama’s Úlfur Einarsson) have been revealed, they still remain quite mysterious. Why only two songs in over two years? Why no album? Why did they keep their identities secret for so long? The biggest question, however, is when will they make more music?
I'm dying for it.
Watch and be hypnotized. Watch and feel a sad sensuality. Watch and beg for more.