In Iceland, all creative roads lead to its capital. In general, cities take hours to cross, a lifetime to learn and feel as far from nature as one could imagine. And then there’s Reykjavik, with a population of one hundred thousand fewer than the London Borough of Westminster, bordered by volcanic rock, black sand beaches, and frosty waters – and populated with buildings that look like they’re made from Lego. The world’s most northerly capital almost redefines what a city can be, but this is not to suggest that it isn’t vital, youthful, bustling, diverse and quirky, with a music and food scene which punch well above their respective weights. What other city, for instance, would choose to stage its main music festival in the dead of winter, when the sun starts to disappear at roughly 3pm, and the Arctic winds swirl indiscriminately around the main thoroughfares – doing a neat job of encouraging the punters inside the various venues?
Daði Freyr at Art Museum, Iceland AirwavesAníta_Eldjárn
It’s amongst the buzz of Iceland Airwaves that I arrive to understand why Reykjavik is such a cultural powerhouse. Churches, art galleries, theatres, recording studios, upstairs at pubs, downstairs at record shops, even someone’s apartment… all spaces are given over to live music over these four days – a concentrated version of the rest of the year. Not only will I see the city at its spritely best, it will also allow me access to a range of Icelandic talent to help me determine what makes this island tick. “The weather affects all aspects of life here, meaning people experience time in a circular manner rather than a line, and you find people aspire less, which means they make music for the purpose of making music”, Árni Árnason, one of the organisers of Iceland Airwaves and bass player of The Vaccines, tells me. “There are tons of successful people, but it tends to have happened as a by-product.”
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