There’s some irony to the idea of Icelandic natives warming up a Melbourne winter’s day, but Ásgeir Trausti Einarsson, known simply to the musical world as Ásgeir, alongside friend and collaborator Júlíus Róbertsson did a spiffing job. Inspiring and awaking a Melbourne audience to their unique brand of folk, Ásgeir and Róbertsson played an acoustic set ahead of their Splendour in the Grass appearance and east coast (Melbourne & Sydney) sideshows.
Playing to a small group gathered on a South Melbourne rooftop, the duo were framed against Melbourne’s humble cityscape, as they moved through stripped back versions of tracks from Ásgeir’s most recent album, In the Silence. The album contains the same songs as his highly successful 2012 debut album, Dýrð í dauðaþögn, but with translated or slightly revised lyrics.
Opening with Going Home, each note was executed with extraordinary clarity, and it was a rare and special opportunity to hear their pure harmonies at such close range. On That Day followed shortly after, and the absence of audience interaction or between song banter was a trend that continued throughout the brief set, but one that allowed each song to resonate powerfully with the listeners. Perhaps this is what Ásgeir was referring to in the naming of his album, but irrespective of the title’s intention, it served as a striking musical tool nonetheless.
King and Cross, arguably Ásgeir’s best known and most played track in Australia, arrived next. It was clearly a song the audience had been eager to hear, as people hummed along quietly or tapped their feet enthusiastically. As King and Cross gained greater local airplay, it was revealed that Ásgeir’s father, Einar Georg Einarsson, wrote many of the original lyrics, with his offspring then casting them and weaving them through his entrancing melodies.
Closing the set was a cover of Nirvana’s Heart Shaped Box, a track taken from their 1993 album, In Utero. The song’s memorable line, “Forever in debt to your priceless advice…” rung out beautifully, delivered delicately and in a soft Icelandic accent. It provided an interesting and striking parallel to Kurt Cobain’s original gritty and grungy execution.
It was a brief affair, but one that showed off Ásgeir’s musical versatility and above all, his overwhelming humility and respect for his craft. It also served as a reminder that there tends to be something rare and unparalleled from musicians hailing from this often untouched part of the world.
BY IZZY TOLHURST
Loved: The unique setting and format.
Hated: That I couldn’t chase it as a Splendour punter.
Drank: No, guzzled down Icelandic charm.
