Following in the well trodden footsteps of many an Icelandic band comes Stafrćnn Hákon. He (Ólafur Örn Josephsson) arrives in Leeds fresh from his interview with yours truly, and having received some truly hilarious review soundbites for the new album 'Ventill/ Poki' ("it's like crying magical tears"- Aquarius). God bless critics.The night starts off though, with Dialect, a one-man sound machine who I must confess, I haven't heard of. He was amazing though; I was totally blown away and so very pleasantly surprised. His music is one of breathtaking accuracy, as not only do all the computer generated snaps and clicks come emanating from his tiny laptop set up on stage, but he plays along to it on either his bass or a guitar. Now that takes some skill to get right.
Flowing from Múm style crackles to hefty, Aphex bass driven beats, Dialect make music that is all at once ferocious and atmospherically beautiful. The relentless beats pound from a bombastic wall of noise, and the swirling sounds of a computer gone mad disperse through what seems like a massive cacophony of ambiance. It's hard to take in, but weaken the defences, and it touches you in a way you thought computer processed music could never do. The videos on the back wall hint at the kind of cinematics that the band (who comprise of just one) can pull off, and to great effect.
My mate summed up the music in what I think is the most articulate way possible: "if robots took over the world, it would sound like that". Fuck me, he's bang on.
After that intensity comes Stafrćnn Hákon, essentially a one man band who has brought two of his mates along, and has hired Danny from Dialect to drum for him. He starts off gently moving a spanner up and down his heavily delayed guitar strings to create such a beautiful noise. A wall of beautiful, hard-to-describe sound fills the air, the guitars pluck, the drums slowly surface and the bass thumps when needed to. In a word, it's gorgeous. I thought that was the high point until it just kept on raising the bar, again and again until a huge, awe inspiring magic came flying from the speakers and into my grateful ears. And that was only the first song.
Running through a collection of his new material, and some songs from his older stuff, such as albums like 'Skvettir Edik á Ref', which he reliably informs us means "splashing vinegar on a fox", Stafrćnn Hákon own the night. God damn, tonight they own all of Leeds. It's music of such delicacy and intricate delivery that can just turn, like that, into music of such power and ferocity. It's a joy to watch these four guys sitting down to play all of their music, calm as you like, yet knowing that they weave this beautiful web of intersecting guitars and melodies.
Modest and shying away from being the typical "hello Cleveland!" style front man, Ólafur looks like the guy you buy merch from before the show (which, as it happens, I did). Down to Earth, and occasionally raising a smile, he is at his peak when he works the crowd into such a fantastic daze, that when the music stops it's like being woken from a dream. It's hazy, relentlessly fabulous and always superb. If this isn't the most pretentious, wordy review that I've ever written, then I don't know what is. Fuck it, he was worth it.
