4 stars
From the opening jangles of this latest magnum opus by Icelandic ex-pat
Edinburgh resident Benedikt H Hermannsson one could be forgiven for
thinking this was the missing link between the fey-pop joie de vivre of
early Orange Juice and the finished article of Belle and Sebastian a
decade or so later. As it is, Hermannson is very much his own man,
crooning in a frippish Icelandic over a set of gloriously jaunty piano,
horn and string arrangements from his home-grown kitchen-sink big band
(he has another version in Edinburgh he’s currently touring Europe
with). Knowing the lingo probably helps, but, throw in a whistling
choir or two, and it sounds like a work of pure joy nevertheless.
The List, February 2011
ends
From the opening jangles of this latest magnum opus by Icelandic ex-pat
Edinburgh resident Benedikt H Hermannsson one could be forgiven for
thinking this was the missing link between the fey-pop joie de vivre of
early Orange Juice and the finished article of Belle and Sebastian a
decade or so later. As it is, Hermannson is very much his own man,
crooning in a frippish Icelandic over a set of gloriously jaunty piano,
horn and string arrangements from his home-grown kitchen-sink big band
(he has another version in Edinburgh he’s currently touring Europe
with). Knowing the lingo probably helps, but, throw in a whistling
choir or two, and it sounds like a work of pure joy nevertheless.
The List, February 2011
ends
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