Amiina is sort of the perfect Icelandic post-rock/electronic/experimental band. They formed as an all-woman string quartet back in the 1990s, and went on to perform as the string section for Sigur Ros.
Here’s a description from Last.fm:
Amiina’s debut album, Kurr (2007), was performed on a disparate jumble of instruments—musical saws, kalimbas, music boxes and seemingly anything that could be plucked, bowed or beaten on—resulting in a work that ebbed and flowed “in a strange, powerful place between sophistication and innocence,” according to The Guardian.
While the above is equally true of Puzzle (2010), this time around the group’s sonic palette is broadened by the contributions of drummer Magnús Trygvason Eliassen and electronic artist Kippi Kaninus (Guðmundur Vignir Karlsson), permanent members of the group since 2009. Accordingly, the songs on Puzzle are more rhythmically rugged than amiina’s previous work and feature heavier use of electronics. amiina’s long-standing fondness for zero-g melodies and open-minded instrumentation, however, continues.
“Rugla”—the song embedded below—comes from Kurr, and is a very pleasant way to wake up on a Tuesday morning . . .
The publisher’s blurb for Oleg Pavlov’s The Matiushin Case promises the prospective reader “a Crime and Punishment for today,” the sort of comparison that is almost always guaranteed to do a disservice to both the legendary dead and the ambitious. . .
One hundred years have passed since the start of World War I and it is difficult to believe that there are still novels, considered classics in their own countries, that have never been published in English. Perhaps it was the. . .
In the London of Hédi Kaddour’s Little Grey Lies, translated by Teresa Lavender Fagan, peace has settled, but the tensions, fears, and anger of the Great War remain, even if tucked away behind stories and lies. Directly ahead, as those. . .
One of the greatest services—or disservices, depending on your viewpoint—Bertrand Russell ever performed for popular philosophy was humanizing its biggest thinkers in his History. No longer were they Platonic ideals, the clean-shaven exemplars of the kind of homely truisms that. . .
The best way to review Alejandra Pizarnik’s slim collection, A Musical Hell, published by New Directions as part of their Poetry Pamphlet series, is to begin by stating that it is poetry with a capital P: serious, dense, and, some. . .
Upon completing Albertine Sarrazin’s Astragal I was left to wonder why it ever fell from print. Aside from the location, Astragal could pass as the great American novel. Its edginess and rawness capture the angst and desires we all had. . .
When my eyes first crossed the back cover of Fabio Genovesi’s novel Live Bait, I was caught by a blurb nestled between accolades, a few words from a reviewer for La Repubblica stating that the novel was, however magically, “[b]eyond. . .
“I preferred the war to the plague,” writes Curzio Malaparte in his 1949 novel, The Skin. He speaks of World War II and the destruction it has wrought on Italy, the city of Naples in particular. But the plague he. . .
With the steady rise of feminist scholarship and criticism in recent decades, it is little wonder that the work of Louise Labé should be attracting, as Richard Sieburth tells us in the Afterword to his translation, a “wide and thriving”. . .
In Conversations, we find ourselves again in the protagonist’s conscious and subconscious, which is mostly likely that of Mr. César Aira and consistent with prototypical Aira style. This style never fails because each time Aira is able to develop a. . .