Interviews

What is your "why?" in terms of writing music? What calls you to write?

I think the element of surprise. I never quite know exactly how I feel until I sit down and write. Writing has always been the door to feeling understood and seen.

Where does the inspiration for your music come from? Are you ever nervous to share what certain songs are about or to put them out into the world if they are sensitive to you?

I write to make sense of my life, mostly I'm inspired by the people and things that happen to me and around me. Sometimes I get nervous to share a new song but I think it's usually a good sign, it probably means that song is honest.

How does the surrounding landscape change the way you think about the subject matter of your writing? The sounds you create?

I think that weather and time of day will sometimes affect the way I write, in the mornings I'm my most confident whereas I'm particularly vulnerable in the evenings hahah.

Iceland really has its own, unique creative culture because of its separation from the rest of the world. How do you think this artistic climate changed the way you went about making music while you're there?

Iceland can feel extremely spacious at times, especially in Isafjordur, I think it's healthy to be reminded of how small we are compared to our planet. I find that really freeing. I think the peace and quiet in Iceland allowed me to focus in and connect with myself.

When and where do you feel the most inspired to write? It could be anywhere and super specific-your house, your bed, the park.

It's not so much a place for me, more so I find I'm most inspired when I make the effort to be present in my day to day. That's when I catch the most sparks.

How do you think your time in Iceland will influence your writing going forward? What were some things that stood out about that experience to you that you see sticking with you in your writing process?

I think what I will remember most are the friends I made in Iceland and how artists of such different tastes can connect so deeply over their shared love and admiration for art.

What is your "why?" in terms of writing music? What calls you to write?

I'm not sure if the spirit moves me, or if music is the spirit for me. A lot of times I feel a crazy pull to develop a phrase or loop I find on an instrument into a song because of the vibrations of it—the way it makes me feel in my body. A lot of times I'm driven by wanting to ask questions, or questions that go together, other times by needing to explore connections between things in life, or get into big-picture things about life and doing it through song makes the most sense. Other times I'm just inspired by a conversation I have with someone. But all of it is about wanting to understand—myself and others—as well as connect to myself and others.

Where does the inspiration for your music come from? Are you ever nervous to share what certain songs are about or to put them out into the world if they are sensitive to you?

I wouldn't say I'm nervous to share what certain songs are about, but more so am a little skeptical that it matters. Sometimes I really don't think people need to know—especially because we all put our own selves into and on top of songs we love. Lately, I've been inspired to write about my family (all that understanding myself and others business, lol) and sometimes I really want to share what's the behind the song to help audiences connect their own experiences to it—we all have families—but I don't think it's necessary in order to make an impact.

Iceland really has its own, unique creative culture because of its separation from the rest of the world. How do you think this artistic climate changed the way you went about making music while you're there?

I felt so in a flow in Iceland—where I would just let this song idea roll and roll and roll on, playing the chords over and over again—and didn't feel a pressure to mold it. Bridie wrote about that spaciousness, and I don't think I understood that's what it was until then, haha—I live in Brooklyn, and sometimes writing in NYC can feel claustrophobic.

How do you think your time in Iceland will influence your writing going forward? What were some things that stood out about that experience to you that you see sticking with you in your writing process?

I think that flow I mentioned, and ease—it wasn't goal oriented at all. I didn't have to finish anything or even a part of a thing, and so there was just no pressure. That was really nice, and I want to bring that back with me.

What is your "why?" in terms of writing music? What calls you to write?

It often happens very intuitively, without second thought, and is only for my own satisfaction. I do it because of the trance it puts me in when I get into the flow of writing and producing—4 hours feel like 1 minute, and then I love to listen to it afterwards. My favorite moment is the feeling of a tiny seed becoming something tangible that I can listen to again and again. My "why" might just be to get to listen to my own thoughts on repeat, in the form of my new favorite song and then maybe understand my feelings better.

Where does the inspiration for your music come from? Are you ever nervous to share what certain songs are about or to put them out into the world if they are sensitive to you?

The inspiration often comes from random sentences or moments with other people. A friend might tell me about something that happened or I have a disagreement with my partner or I see something beautiful or sad. Basically, something affects me and in reaction, I might write down a sentence in my notebook or notes app. Then later when I have a moment to create, I will go through the ideas that have gathered there and build upon it.

One example is when I was in Flatey, I saw the bird Kría (arctic tern) teaching its babies to fly by having food in its mouth and flying away, seeing if the babies would then follow. I wrote it down. At the time, I was in a long distance relationship so then came the thought that me and my partner were doing the same; flying away, seeing if the other would follow, and that way we both learned how to fly, individually and together. So it is some mundane but poetic thing I see, and then often later I relate it to myself and build a concept around it.

Yes, it can be uncomfortable to share the music with other people. Especially since I rarely think about releasing the music while I create it. But it might be a thought like: "Oh, I hope my partner's mother doesn't think we have a horrible relationship just because I wrote a heartbreak song." It's never really a fear of people not liking the music... probably because I love it myself.

How does the surrounding landscape change the way you think about the subject matter of your writing? The sounds you create?

My mother in law is a biologist and pointed out that I have a lot of birds in my songs. I counted them and out of the 15 songs I have released, you will find 5 different bird species mentioned. All of them are birds that I see everyday in Iceland.

I have also thought that the rough landscape of Iceland and the contrast of it is inspiring. I like when music is fragile or intimate but also has an aggressiveness or roughness to it. Like a soft vocal with a distorted bass. Like the small flowers that grow in stormy mountains of the highlands.

Iceland really has its own, unique creative culture because of its separation from the rest of the world. How do you think this artistic climate changed the way you went about making music while you're there?

There is a strong "do-er" energy which I think is a big reason why I make music. I think it is connected to the fact that we are very close to "the top" players, so subconsciously you get a sense that you could do anything. I could knock on Björk's door and ask her to feature on a song. Maybe the small isolated population syndrome creates courage? A strong sense of community and courage can get you a long way, in terms of believing in yourself, I think.

When and where do you feel the most inspired to write? It could be anywhere and super specific—your house, your bed, the park.

The urge often comes at the most inconvenient times. For example, the other day while I was camping in the mountains with my friends with no electricity or service, I had to get an idea out. Or if I have been to a concert and am now at the bar after, or driving by the sea, walking home at night, that's when the ideas come. That's where I scribble down a sentence or record a voice note.

The moments where I then create are often when I have a free night on my own, in my home. Preferably in bad weather, a storm and darkness, my partner is not coming home for hours and I have some snacks and no specific anxiety about the next day. If some epic ideas are coming and I need to record more instruments ASAP then I will hurry to my studio and dive into the creation.

I also believe that it is a muscle that you have to train, the inspiration muscle. If I am playing a lot of gigs, then I often feel blocked in writing, because I'm using different muscles in the brain—the performing muscles. Then if I want to get into writing-mode, it helps to do some writing exercises and get it all flowing. For example, some "stream of consciousness" writing 4 days in a row and then suddenly on the 5th day a great lyric might pop through.

Is there a certain landmark or place in Iceland where you felt most compelled to write or that inspired your writing the most?

Water always gets me going. Maybe because I'm a pisces? Two of my songs mention the pond in Reykjavík, others the ocean. I live right by the harbour, with Esjan throning over, so thats easy inspo. I also have some field recordings from the sea, sampled in my songs. One example is in the track Öndunaræfingar where the first sound is a ship's horn tooting in Reykjavík's harbour. I used that sound to create all the synths and arps in that song.

What is your "why?" in terms of writing music? What calls you to write?

I think writing music is a way for me to understand what I'm feeling. A lot of the time I don't necessarily know what I'm trying to say when I start writing, I tend to find that out through the song. There are things that feel too complicated, small or strange to explain in normal conversation, but somehow they make sense to me when I put them into music.

I'm also really drawn to capturing moments and feelings before they disappear. A song can preserve a lot of things, a person, a place, a feeling, a scent, even just the atmosphere of a particular day.

And then there's also just something about sound itself that keeps calling me back. Sometimes I write because I have something I need to say, but sometimes it starts with a guitar pattern or a sound or a little melody that makes me feel something, and I want to follow it and see where it goes.

I also just simply love to sing—it's my favourite thing to do. I do it when I feel sad, when I feel happy, it's been the most constant thing in my life.

Where does the inspiration for your music come from?

A lot of it comes from very ordinary things. Relationships, conversations, memories, books I'm reading, places I've been, things I've noticed. I think I'm more interested in small moments than big dramatic ones.

Literature has been important too. Sometimes one sentence can stay with me for months. "I am only thoughts running through myself," for example, is a sentence that somehow morphed from another sentence I read in a book by Annie Ernaux, and "touch=change" was partly inspired by Octavia Butler's Parable of the Sower. I love when somebody puts language to something I've felt but haven't been able to articulate myself.

And then the people I make music with are a huge source of inspiration. I don't really see songwriting and production as completely separate things. A sound somebody makes in the room can change what I think the song is about.

Are you ever nervous to share what certain songs are about or put them into the world if they're sensitive to you?

Definitely. I think there's a strange contradiction in songwriting where you can be incredibly private as a person and then write something very intimate and sing it to hundreds of strangers.

Sometimes I hide things a little bit. I can write around something rather than explain exactly what happened. And I actually like that songs can do that, they don't have to give you all the facts to tell the truth.

Once a song is released, though, it starts to feel less like it belongs only to me. People attach their own experiences to it, and sometimes somebody will tell me what a song means to them and it's completely different from what I was thinking when I wrote it. I really love that. It takes some of the vulnerability out of releasing it, because the song gets to become something else.

I've also been performing a lot since the release of my album, and I find it amazing how I, myself, start to interpret and experience the songs in new ways. I think that's so cool.

How does the surrounding landscape change the way you think about the subject matter of your writing? The sounds you create?

Quite a lot. I realised that especially while making a place to be. We recorded parts of it at my family's farm, Staður, in Hrútafjörður, and in the little church there, as well as in Reykjavík and Denmark. Eventually the places themselves started becoming part of the record.

We kept sounds that normally might have been removed, birds, wind, clocks, rooms creaking, sounds from outside. I became really interested in the idea that you could hear where the music had been made.

And I think landscape changes my sense of time. When I'm somewhere rural, particularly somewhere that I have a personal connection to, I notice things differently. There's more space around a thought. That affects both the lyrics and the arrangements. I don't feel the same need to fill every empty space in the music.

Iceland has its own unique creative culture because of its separation from the rest of the world. How do you think this artistic climate changed the way you went about making music while you're there?

I think growing up making music in Iceland has definitely shaped me, although it's hard to know exactly how because it's the only place I know how to be from.

The music community here is very small, and there's a lot of overlap between scenes and genres. The person playing experimental electronic music might also play in somebody's folk project, or a jazz musician ends up on an indie record. People tend to do lots of different things rather than staying in one clearly defined lane.

That has probably made me less concerned with what a song is "supposed" to be. On my record I worked with people coming from very different musical worlds, and I really like putting those people in the same room and seeing what happens.

At the same time, being from a small and geographically isolated place gives you this strange relationship with the rest of the world. You're influenced by music from everywhere, but you're making it from this tiny island far away from most of it. I think there's something creatively useful in that distance.

When and where do you feel the most inspired to write?

I don't think I'm necessarily most inspired in a studio. Sometimes a studio can actually make me feel like I'm supposed to create something, which isn't always helpful.

I like places where I can disappear a little bit and where there isn't too much happening around me. A house in the countryside, somebody's living room, somewhere I can have an instrument lying around and come back to it throughout the day.

I also really like writing while travelling. There's something about being temporarily outside of your normal life that makes you look at things differently. I collect little phrases and voice memos all the time, and often something I wrote down without knowing why becomes important much later.

Is there a certain landmark or place in Iceland where you felt most compelled to write or that inspired your writing the most?

Staður, my family's farm in Hrútafjörður, is probably the clearest answer.

It became very important while making a place to be. We recorded there and in Staðarkirkja, and it became more than just a location where we happened to make the album. The sounds, memories and atmosphere of the place became part of the music itself.

I have a long family connection to it, so when I'm there I'm surrounded by different layers of time, my own memories, my family's history, and this landscape that stays relatively constant while everybody in it changes. I think that connects very naturally to the things I tend to write about anyway: memories, relationships, change, longing, home, and my own mind.