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BJ Nilsen & Stilluppsteypa
Vikinga Brennivín
2005 Helen Scarsdale CD
Track Listing:
1. En dåre kan fråga mer än tre visa kan svara /
Einn fáviti getur spurt meira en thrír adrir geta svarad
2. Heilir, thorn eirs hlyddu / Lycklige de, som lyssnat
3. Vidunder
4. Det är bäst att jag börjar, annars kommer jag aldrig
hem /
Nú er kominn tími til ad byrja, annars kemst eg ekkert
heim aftur
Press Release:
Brennivin is an Icelandic liquor vulcanized from the humble potato
and flavored with cumin, although you'd be hard pressed to taste much
beyond the astringent burn that it leaves in your mouth. Bottled in
matte black glass and stamped with ominously simple labels, brennivin
appears less like something to imbibe and more like poison; and in
that creeping slow death kind of way, it is. For the Icelandic electro-absurdist
outfit Stilluppsteypa, brennivin has soaked into every fiber of their
being; and as a result, oozes out of their terminal drones, sputtered
rhythms, and atomic fractures. As much brennivin (and mind-altering
chemicals in general have been a muse for Stilluppsteypa, they are
also a curse; Stilluppsteypa's oblique Dada expressionism and devilish
black humour erupt with megalomaniacal invincibility that comes with
a few too many drinks; but at the same time, Stilluppsteypa has developed
a parallel ethos of clinical minimalism the reflects the introspection,
headaches, and melancholia of the morning after.
In their poetically abject celebration of brennivin, Stilluppsteypa
(comprised of Sigtryggur Berg Sigmarsson and Helgi Thorsson) accepted
the invitation from Swedish composer BJ Nilsen to collaborate upon
an album related to alcohol and its mind-numbing effects. Nilsen has
been working in various constellations of experimental music, best
known for his recordings as Hazard published through Touch and Ash
International. Focusing the perception of natural sounds through a
reconstruction of time and space, Nilsen has rendered the commonplace
sounds of wind, rain, and snow as stealthfully seductive and quietly
menacing drifts of frozen sound. Their resultant collaboration is
an existentialist allegory in which the three drunkenly stumble out
in a Scandinavian winter night and spiral toward the inevitable point
in which they blackout. Lest this be construed as a derelict piece
of method acting, the craft that Nilsen, Sigmarsson, and Thorsson
brought to Vikinga Brennivín is impeccable, as the extended
soundfields breath with the majesty of distant fog horns and sparkle
with the delicate light of countless stars cast down from the black
heavens onto the frozen tundra below. Frightening and barren, yet
hauntingly compelling, Vikinga Brennivín is an isolationist
masterpiece.
The first edition of Vikinga Brennivín was strictly
limited to 300 copies due to the elaborate artwork. The Helen Scarsdale
Agency commissioned its in-house fabricator Jim Haynes to produce
the exquisite packaging of hand-manipulated copper foil with silkscreened
text. A second edition with the same silkscreened design on paper
had been published shortly after the first pressing was sold out.
Reviews:
Vital
Drinkers out there: pay attention, because our favourite drunks are
here and they celebrate their favourite drink: brennivin. Never heard
of? No problem. It's an Icelandic liquor made of potato and flavored
with cumin, which burns down your throat - and I know: the only two
times I was really sick of alcohol in the last 10 years was of brennivin.
The first time I got this poison served was at Stillupsteypa's house
- no wonder, they are from Iceland and like everybody from there they
drink. A lot. An insane lot. These days Stilluppsteypa is Sigtryggur
Berg Sigmarsson and Helgi Thorsson and they team up with BJ Nilsen
- our man in Sweden (and known from Touch releases, more than his
drinking habits, at least here). Of course it's hard to tell wether
one would think of the booze if it didn't have that title, nor is
it easy to relate the music to the drink. The five lengthy pieces
here all deal with a hermetically closed sound. Processings of field
recordings perhaps, but no longer recognizable as such. Some ten or
so years ago, someone invented the term 'isolationism' for this kind
of music, but basically it was what everyone else called 'ambient
industrial', but somehow 'isolationism' sounded better. It's certainly
an appropiate term for this CD. It's either music you hear when you
try to make it home after a night of heavy brennivin intake and if
that didn't do the trick it's music you hear in your head when you
wake up. It's almost claustrophobic music, but beautiful claustrophobia.
Lovers of Nilsen's other work, or Thomas Köner's old work, should
keep an eye open for a CD packed in copper-plates inside a jewel case.
-- Frans de Waard
Brainwashed
This is one of the best, most expertly crafted releases I have heard
in quite some time. The artist formerly known as Hazard (Nilsen) and
Stilluppsteypa (recently reduced to a duo of Sigtryggur B. Sigmarsson
and Helgi Thorsson) combine sounds that evoke panoramic landscapes.
Beginning this remarkably cohesive 56 minute set, "En Dare Kan
Fraga Mer An Tre Visa Kan Svara" approaches like distant footsteps
trying to walk straight on a windy path. Small rustling sounds eventually
coalesce into thicker swarms over 12 minutes. This music is successful
because it recalls a barren landscape, but still provides small, recognizable
nuances to cling to. The quiet crackling sounds, bell tones and low
moans which hover just below the long sustained tones of each piece
add depth. At first Vikinga Brennivin seems minimalist in that
there are no melodic or rhythmic elements. However, its appeal lies
in uncovering the many layers of sound that make up this minimal facade.
During "Heilir, thorn eirs hlyddu" there is a wall of static
that is barely noticeable until it is suddenly removed from the mix
at the six minute mark. The six minutes that follow this shift are
then more interesting because they feel like undergrowth being pulled
to the surface for inspection. On "En Dare..." and "Det
Ar..." the trio pursue a decidedly more organic sound, while
on "Heilir..." and "Vidunder" a digital patina
is added to the low-end rumbling that provides contrast but doesn't
sound too jarring. On "Vidunder" in particular, sharp high-end
digital stabs echo from speaker to speaker and are the closest the
trio get to achieving rhythmic tension. During "Det Ar..."
a single low tone is given several minutes to meander before being
joined by what sounds like smoke or gas being emitted from a pipe.
The effect is akin to watching clouds pass slowly overhead through
a skylight. The sounds that are used throughout the album sound as
if they were carefully chosen. The group meets its objective of combining
elements in ways that produce subtly changing, atmospheric works in
which more is discovered upon each listen. They seem well-attuned
to a common mission and the result sounds more seamless than simply
being the sum of familiar parts. The gorgeous, unique silkscreened
copper plate by Jim Haynes that serves as the sleeve for the first
edition of 300 enhances the perception that this is a work which has
been carefully and lovingly crafted out of a combination of passion
and skill. -- Jim Siegel
Fakejazz
God damn, this is a beautiful record. Serious headphone drone from
the land of ice and snow (BJ Nilsen hails from Sweden, Stilluppsteypa
from Iceland). Music for floating ice sheets and melting glaciers.
A heady mix of tectonic drones and distant forest clatter, with stones
and twigs breaking under foot. The first track creates such a heavy
space that it leaves an empty feeling in the room when it abruptly
ends. The second follows suit, with a thick translucent haze, the
consistency of melted glass, all gooey and hot. The final track is
a journey into the Black Forrest at night filled with electronic bugs
and ghost like wisps flying overhead. So put this on, lay down, turn
down the lights a float down the river like a giant piece of broken
off ice pack. -- Jefre Cantu Ledesma
Paris Transatlantic
The first edition of this album is already something of a collectors'
item, as Helen Scarsdale's in-house designer (and frequent Wire
contributor) Jim Haynes prepared just 300 handmade copper foil inserts
with the album title and track info silk-screened on them. They look
very nice indeed, even if they're stuck in a standard jewel box, but
to be honest I'd have preferred a free bottle of Brennevin myself,
Brennevin being a seriously headfucking potato alcohol normally bottled
in suspicious-looking black glass and highly popular in Iceland, which
is where electronicians Sigtryggur Berg Sigmarsson and Helgi Thorsson
aka Stilluppsteypa come from. They're joined by BJ Nilsen, who hails
from Sweden where they also produce some pretty wicked liquor,
but that's probably beside the point on five (there only seem
to be four marked on the copper plate) tracks of utter majesty. Don't
you dare say electronic music can't move you to tears; these huge,
spacious glowing structures are sombre, magnificent and exquisitely
constructed (and I haven't got the faintest idea what their titles
mean.. something to do with the booze, who knows?). And I thought
that irr. app. (ext.)'s Ozeanische Gefühle was a hard
act for Helen Scarsdale to follow. Like Matt Waldron (irr. app. (ext.)
to you), our three protagonists here have something that's all too
often lacking in today's boot-the-Mac-click-open-soundfile-and-let-it-rip-and-while-it's-playing-I-can-answer-email
(just joking) electronic music culture: damn good ears. They probably
don't have much liver left if the press release is to be believed,
so make sure you get your copy of Vikinga Brennevin before
stocks dry up altogether. (If you miss out on Jim's copper plate,
don't worry the music will be the same on the second edition.)
-- Dan Warburton
Signal To Noise
Issue 38, Summer 2005
A tribute of sorts to the harsh Icelandic liquor brennivin, Vikinga
Brennivin is fittingly woozy, numbing record. Both BJ Nilsen and
Stilluppsteypa are famous for their ability to create dark, surrealist
soundscapes from common sources, and their work here is no different.
From the haunting field recordings that start the disc, through the
dark drones and glacial scrapes, the musicians use a wide palate of
sounds to create their windswept epics. In general, Stilluppsteypa
tend to have a slightly more confrontational sound, with members Sigytryggur
Berg Sigmarsson and Helgi Thorsson twisting their tones into a squirming
mass. Nilsen, on the other hand, focuses mainly on creating huge,
heavy backdrops that cloak the record in pudding-thick layers of drone.
The record's first edition, limited to 300 copies, comes packed in
gorgeous silkscreened sheets of copper foil that perfectly compliments
the beautiful, alien music. -- Ethan Covey
The Wire, Issue 258
August 2005
Bremmin is a famously potent Icelandic potato and cumin liquor that
comes in forbidding black bottles. Whether laptop duo Stilluppsteypa
record under the influence of their national tipple is not made clear,
but the evidence of this suitably blurred and bleary collaboration
with sound artist Nilsen, it certainly sounds like they do. Nilsen's
Hazard release on the Ash International and Touch labels feature motionless,
brooding stretches of treated environmental recordings. What his collaborators
bring to this project is a sense of unpredictability, even madness.
But it's a slow, sleepy kind of madness, as if the music is under
the influence of the paralysis-inducing drug curare rather than the
firewater suggested by the album title. Despite the strung out, claustrophobic
feel, however, Vikinga Brennivin is a fascinating and strangely
beautiful record -- addictive, one might say. Various stretches might
be said to evoke the relentless throb and tinnitus whistle of a serious
hangover, but mostly it's an album of meticulously crafted dronescapes
and seeping atmospheres. Layers constantly appear, shift and disappear,
to occasionally hallucinogenic effect, as on the richly involving
final 20 minute drift piece, but more often suggesting psychic disquiet
and disconnection. The second track is a steely but miasmatic inferno
of deep, rumbling frequencies and submerged, agitated voices, a sonic
black hole seeming to suck in all but the most unsettling noise. It's
powerful stuff -- in fact, any recovering alcoholics tempted by a
drop of the hard stuff should consider buying Vikinga Brennivin
for use as aversion therapy. -- Keith Moliné |
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