Iceland Goes Boom.

Put on your serious face, kids.

As you may or may not know, a volcano erupted in southern Iceland last week, near Eyjafjallajökull glacier. Between 500 and 600 people were evacuated from the immediate area, and flights in and out of the Keflavík airport were suspended. Glacial flooding was the biggest initial threat, but it appears that the lava from the volcano has avoided the ice for the most part and is flowing through a gorge. The eruption is ongoing and experts have no knowing of when it will stop.

Still, there is a growing concern that the volcanic activity could trigger a much larger explosion in Katla, known as one of the most dangerous volcanoes in Iceland, embedded deep under Mýrdalsjökull glacier, which is the second largest glacier in the country. Katla erupts once or twice a century, with devastating results. When Katla explodes, it melts ice. Melted ice is water. Water means floods. At the peak of an eruption in 1755, the flood discharge was estimated between 200,000–400,000 m³/s; for comparison the combined average discharge of the Amazon, Mississippi, Nile, and Yangtze rivers is about 290,000 m³/s. That's kind of insane, right? Aside from flooding, the volcanic material thrown up by the eruption is highly conductive, leading to massive lightening storms. Add to this toxic gases and clouds of ash, and you've got a party on your hands.

Katla 1918 eruption:

During my brief stint in Iceland last summer, I stayed in Þórsmörk valley. The valley is bordered on three sides by glaciers, one of which is Eyjafjallajökull, and at the rear lies Mýrdalsjökull. I've hiked in the foothills of both of them. This is why the current volcanic eruption resonates with me more than most. It's odd to think that the next time I go back there, the landscape could be entirely different. I was told during my stay that an eruption was due, since the last one occurred in 1918. Many of the older residents of the area refused to believe this, or, if they did believe, were not perturbed by it. Þórsmörk, as well as Hella, Hvölsvollur, and Fljotshlíd have all been evacuated, and are all places I've been in. It's bizarre.

Húsadalur campsite where I lived for 2 weeks, with Eyjafjallajökull in the distance:

Even though the majority of Iceland's 320,000 strong population live in Reykjavík, there is still a bustling community in and around Þórsmörk. If there was a flood, hundreds of people would lose their homes. An eruption in the 21st century would have a far greater effect compared to 100 years ago. In 1996, a smaller eruption occurred under the Grimsvötn lakes belonging to the Vatnajökull glacier. The resulting flood washed away part of the main highway which circumnavigates Iceland. Repairs to bridges and roads cost 2 billion Icelanic kronor. An eruption in Katla would be far far worse than the Grimsvötn one, causing untold amounts of damage. And with Iceland already in economic collapse, it would be detrimental to the country.

Post-car crash fun.

This is one of my favourite music videos of all time.

It's completely twisted. You'll want to rip your eyes away but you won't be able to, cos that tune is just sooo catchy.



Berndsen (along with FM Belfast, Bloodgroup, and probably some others that I don't know) are part of the Icelandic electronic scene (yup, that's right, another Icelandic music post).

Rebecca Louder introduced me to them. Her blog is wacky, like this video, and worth a look. Here.

Björk who?

Having been a huge Sigur Rós fan since discovering their sophomore album, Ágætis byrjun, several years ago, and subsequently developing an unquenchable thirst for all things Icelandic, it was with baited breath that I waited for frontman Jón Þór Birgisson (known as Jónsi) to release his solo debut.

"Boy Lilikoi", released late last year, was the first taste of the brilliance to come. Backed by a staccato drum pattern and swirling woodwind, the song is upbeat, rapturous, and almost childlike, with Jonsí imploring his "boy lilikoi" to grab life because "the world goes and flutters by".

The album, Go, begins with a similarly uplifting track, "Go Do", reminiscent of "Gobbledigook" from Sigur Ros' Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust. In fact, it is one of the most uplifting pieces of music I have ever heard, and I've had it on repeat since I got the album. Jonsí creates an incredibly euphonic wall of sound from whirling synths, flute blasts, and percussion by way of pummeling furiously on a suitcase (yes, a suitcase - if you don't believe me, watch the beautiful video for "Go Do" after the post). It is the perfect accompaniment to the endlessly layered vocals which plead "Go! Do!"; to seize life and "always know that we can do anything".

Interestingly, Jonsí mostly sings in English on the album, though his vocal delivery is so like an instrument itself, it is sometimes impossible to tell what language he is singing in. He is simply part of the orchestra. Although the music is often far removed from that of Sigur Rós, a certain melancholy remains, and there is a clever juxtaposition of despondent lyrics and euphoric melody.

However, the music is not at all times upbeat. "Kolniður" is almost terrifying while the dark, brooding "Tornado" begins with echoey piano chords in the style of Radiohead's "Pyramid Song", and before long is awash with strings and cymbal crashes, building to a frightening climax of clattering marching drums as if Jónsi himself is leading an army to battle. Although foreboding, its subject matter is concurrent with that of the whole album - enjoy life while you can.

Jónsi has crafted something beautiful, with so many layers both musically and thematically, that you'll find yourself jerked to and fro between the poles of human emotion, all while dancing around your bedroom like a mad yoke. This is pop music as it should be.

Jónsi - Go Do from Jónsi on Vimeo.