The quirky talents of Iceland's Hafdis Huld have been
with us in England for a couple of years, but she's been laying low of
late to work on her second album, the fruits of which formed the
backbone of her comeback performance tonight in front of a relaxed audience.
Following some wholesome folk noodlings from Fiona Bevan,
a young artist with a fine voice and nice repertoire but a bit too
much of the Women's Institute about her to make it work in the
basement of an East London boozer, the peroxide-topped Hafdis casually
wanders towards the stage and introduces a song about a human spider
man.
You know the chap - the Frenchman with a mullet ("that narrows it
down" you're thinking...) who scales shiny buildings with no harness and
had a film made about him. "You'll never see him in an elevator / it
moves to slow / see you later / see you later" is the charming
riposte, and the rest of the set continues in a similarly witty and
leftfield way, to the satisfaction of many.
Robot Robot, another newbie that follows the track Ski Jumper
(from her 2007 debut, Dirty Paper Cup), features the timeless
stylophone and is about breaking up with someone who may or may not be
mechanical, although the acoustic guitar and keyboard (plus backing
vocals) accompaniment maintain the usual live upbeat Hafdis sound - a
sort of acoustic pop with ladles of charm and sparkle. Think
Feist writing songs involving banjos, glitter and Dolly
Parton and you're in the right fjord.
Interestingly, and by way of
direct contrast, Happily Ever After - another oldie set-listed
directly after a new track - comes across as very saccharine when
compared to the tighter, wittier songs from her forthcoming album. A
greater maturity and distinct sense of humour now pervade the
song-writing, whereas the earlier material can sound a little too
honest and innocent when compared directly.
A stripped down version of The Velvet Underground's
classic Who Loves The Sun, the harbinger of the famous pink flying-v
ukulele - an instrument wielded with expert precision by Alisdair
Wright - came next to warm applause and was swiftly followed by
Homemade Lemonade, the evening's third new track.
As Hafdis explains
in her usual charming manner, the song is about men who get on the
front of Icelandic newspapers with pictures of large fish because
there's not a lot else going on of interest - if you want to be
famous, catch a whopper. It has a laid-back feel; that of a sunny day
on the prairie with the local radio churning out sleepy country music,
except the lyrics (e.g. "everything is basic in a town like this / you
get your picture in the paper if you catch a fish") still have a
definite humour about them.
Tomoko then precedes two new songs - Boys And Perfume and Action
Man, the latter being about a man who lives next door to Hafdis
and is possibly a superhero as he goes to work in a Clark Kent-style
suit. You may think that move to Kettering would be a backward step
from London in terms of creative stimuli, but when your neighbours
provide you with enough material for two whole songs (the penultimate
track was also about her neighbours, who think she might be a vampire
due to her unusual hours) then the evidence suggests otherwise.
Inspiration comes from the strangest of places.
Another favourite from the first album, Diamonds On My Belly, was
the democratically-chosen final song and a fitting end to an evening
which provided the perfect showcase for what promises to be a
fascinating second record; one that sounds full of wit, melody and
charm. And if it fails, which seems unlikely, then a career in stand
up comedy awaits.
INTERVIEW:
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