You might imagine our office as a European wonderland, with espresso machines and turtlenecks and sophisticated furniture. As a street paper, we keep our overhead low. So during the week, many of us have massive headphones on, blaring our music of choice.
As a service to us and to our readers, then, we are sharing what Icelandic music is being played in the office this week. (Mostly through headphones.)
Checking In by Gyda Valtysdottir
It would be lying if I said I’ve been listening to much lately. The news of recent weeks has made me increasingly anxious, and I find myself wanting less noise than more. This January, the new Dry Cleaning album has lived in my headphones, with the song “My Soul / Half Pint” almost on repeat, mostly because its name perfectly encapsulates my end-of-January mood on this island. If you live here, you know exactly what I’m talking about. If you’re reading from abroad, honestly, think twice about visiting Iceland in winter. Among Icelandic artists, “Checking In” by Gyða Valtýsdóttir popped up on my playlist more than a few times. Gyða is perhaps one of my favourite discoveries of last year, thanks to an intimate múm concert at Harpa. She has also just announced a new album Mother Pearl coming on March 20. The song is mysterious yet solemn, recorded at the Old Carpet Factory on Hydra in Greece, it does have this unbearable lightness of feeling — kind of reminding me of the what it’s like not to be in Iceland. Interestingly, the song takes a more electronic approach, but Gyða remains the artist who made the cello sexy. IZ
Finally having cancelled my Spotify subscription as I entered this new year, I’m taking the opportunity to reevaluate the ways that I seek out and listen to music.
This week, I listened almost exclusively to the radio while working — yes, sometimes through an unaesthetic web player, but other times through a very staticky portable radio. This is where I’ve discovered my favourite listen of the week: the work of experimental electronic innovator Magnús Blöndal Jóhannsson, which I found through the radio programme “Sveiflutíðni.” Magnús — the first to ever compose electronic music in Iceland — released his pioneering work Elektrónísk Stúdía in 1960. A wonky, playful, and daring release, Elektrónísk Stúdía was created at night in RÚV’s headquarters, using their technology while it otherwise would have sat dormant overnight. The release is saturated in a spirit of experimentation and mischief that I can only assume comes from being alone at night in a radio station, and his work truly epitomises the avant-garde spirit. Sveiflutíðni’s three chapters have come to a close, but you can still find the show on RÚV’s website. ISH
Turnar by Hekla
A big week for handball, so “Áfram Ísland!” Our officemate, Örn, is happy, so I’m happy for him, as Iceland continues to excel at the Euro 2026 championships. This same officemate has been playing, and explaining, Stuðmenn classic albums. This is patriotism here. Stuðmenn are a genre-defying band, essentially performing party music, but with profoundly overqualified musicians. Their album Sumar á Sýrlandi celebrated its 50th anniversary last year. It’s insane stuff, as the band jams more chord and tempo changes into their middle eights than any pop band that I’ve heard. My focus music, when I’m not cheering on Iceland, has actually been the Hekla Magnúsdottir album Turnar, on bandcamp, featured in the Grapevine in April. This is, incredibly to me, a theremin album. Extremely emotive, and far more sonically rich than any other music on my playlists, this is not the wacky whiny instrument of sci-fi movies. For these darker winter days, I’ve found the album to be remarkably calming. BC
