Photograph by Hrefna Björg Gylfadóttir
When my facebook feed was suddenly overloaded this evening with beautiful images of ethereal landscapes, dilapidated boats and a towering volcano over a field of green, I knew that one of my friends had been visiting Iceland. The friend in question happened to be underground music journalist Cath Aubergine, who in all honesty has been one of the most important (and unsung) figures for promoting new artists in the last 15 years. She was in Reykjavik for Iceland Airwaves Festival, and I thought I’d be foolish not to explore some of the many gigs she had been documenting. It was here, hidden within her photographs, that I discovered the heartwarming story of Steinunn Jónsdóttir.
Making electronic music under the playful name of asdfhg, Steinunn Jónsdóttir’s debut EP ‘Steingervingur‘ (2015) was written and recorded in her parent’s basement at the tender age of 16. Pseudonymously uploaded to bandcamp and shared with just a few close friends; it was accidentally unearthed during a late-night listening session by one of the judges of the Kraumur award – an Icelandic grassroots art prize. After a little investigation, Jónsdóttir found herself revealed and catapulted into the spotlight, unexpectedly winning one of the awards against some of the more established names. Now, just a few months on, and working with fellow musician Orri Úlfarsson, the project has taken on a life of it’s own, with 2016 already seeing the release of two stunningly crafted EP’s in ‘Skammdegi‘ and ‘Kliður‘.
The delicate dreaminess in September’s ‘Kliður’ is surely evidence enough of their remarkable talent together, but with a growing confidence in her voice, it seems like Jónsdóttir is tantalisingly close to producing something that breaks beyond Iceland and into the larger musical world. ‘Steypa‘ is the track I keep coming back to; hypnotic in it’s movement and an eternal state of innocence in it’s sound. But don’t be fooled by that, there’s a darkness here too… a lonely, insular sort of feeling that separates her from the whimsical and into the magnificent. Perhaps it wasn’t so accidental for Steinunn Jónsdóttir. Some things are meant to be.
Thanks to Hrefna Björg Gylfadóttir and The Reykjavik Grapevine.