Pétur Ben
Wine For My Weakness

How can one go to Iceland and not take the opportunity to get to know some local artists?

After a 10-day tour around the island, spent storing in my mind images of wonderful landscapes and unspoiled nature, I return to Reykjavík and dive into a record store: the distinction between "local new releases" and "international new releases" already hints at how much musical excitement there is in these parts.
I instinctively choose 4 CDs to listen to and settle into the listening station: above me, an advertising poster for Justin Timberlake's new CD reminds me that "commercial viruses" continue to grow exponentially and will soon arrive everywhere, but I don't lose heart and begin listening with confidence.

It only takes a few minutes to realize that this boy (already an arranger for Mugison and Slowblow) absolutely has talent: "Look in the fire" is a long track (over 7 minutes) that has it all: the voice comes in after 2 minutes of country guitar (!), then the song grows reminiscent of Nick Cave (for whom he arranged his contribution to the Woyzeck theatrical show that debuted some time ago in London) until the explosion of guitars and the calmer finale.
"Pack your bags" and "I'll be here" are two very sweet ballads: the first enriched by a second female voice and the second by a string contribution. The title track, a conventional rock but not for that reason banal, anticipates what I find to be the most beautiful track, "Something radical", a protest song against today's world with a compelling rhythm that reminded me several times of (hear, hear!) dEUS.
Even the pace of "White tiger" reminded me of the Belgian band, before the chorus becomes a "march" reminiscent of Franz Ferdinand: beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!
"Where children rule", a very long song characterized by a hypnotic piano loop that made me think of Red House Painters, and the CD concludes with three intimate songs among which "Alone" stands out, with chilling vocal extensions, reminiscent of Jeff Buckley.

At the end of the listening, I look up; of course, Justin is still there, photographed in a plastic and suggestive pose, and as I happily pay for the CD, I snicker, thinking that the moment of invasion is still far away...