Múm: Summer Made Good | Pittsburgh City Paper | Matthew Newton

While more than a decade has passed since Icelandic artists the Sugarcubes and Björk began receiving international acclaim for their music, a new movement of young artists has taken root. Crafting beautiful and haunting orchestrations that blur the lines between post-rock, pop and glitch, Sigur Rós and Múm are the latest innovators to blossom from Iceland’s seemingly rich musical community. And while the former have already received critical recognition for their work from the foreign and domestic press, it’s Múm that is now coming into its own. Touring in support of Summer Make Good (Fat Cat), the band’s latest album and follow-up to 2002’s critically acclaimed Finally We Are No One, Múm is currently in the U.S. for a month-long string of live performances. And though these native Icelanders have toured the States before, the cultural differences posed by America’s hyper-driven lifestyle are still somewhat daunting.

“Is this a radio interview?” Mum’s Kristín Anna Valtysdóttir asks, her voice not much louder than a tiny whisper crackling through the phone receiver, “or are you writing this down?”

Her Icelandic accent peppers her words, reminiscent of the way in which it colors her ethereal vocal performances captured on the band’s recordings. In the background there is noise and confusion while Múm prepares for a sound check. Our conversation is temporarily interrupted: A man speaking in Icelandic asks Valtysdóttir several questions. Their exchange is brief but seems to distract her thoughts for the next several minutes.

Valtysdóttir and her Múm bandmates, Gunnar Örn Tynes and Örvar Thóreyjarson Smárason, are preparing for tonight’s performance at the El Rey Theatre in Los Angeles — a long way from the band’s hometown of Reykjavik.

“It’s kind of a different world to be on tour,” Valtysdóttir says in a sheepish tone. “There are very many things in this country that you have to kind of just not take too emotionally … things that you think are wrong.”

And while she seems reluctant to elaborate on her thoughts, after pausing for a moment, she quietly continues.

“[America] has a really massive car culture and also in the way all the cars are really big,” Valtysdóttir says. “The sad thing is, it’s also in Iceland. It makes me think I should go and protect my country because it’s small.”

Valtysdóttir’s concerns about Iceland falling prey to an Americanized lifestyle seem valid. And this fate sounds particularly inevitable as she recounts her memory of the media attention garnered by the grand opening of Iceland’s first McDonald’s — an event typified by the prime minister’s determination to be the first customer served. Most notably, Valtysdóttir’s concerns seem intimately tied to both her and her bandmates’ love of their country’s natural beauty, and the way in which it influences their music.

For the songwriting and recording of Summer Make Good, Múm embarked on a two-part artists’ retreat, first traveling northwest to Iceland’s Westfjord to compose the material for the album in a remote lighthouse in Galtarviti. Later, the band settled down for seven weeks to record in an empty light-keeper’s house in Gardskagatá.

“On our first album, we didn’t spend so much time in the studio,” Valtysdóttir explains. “We didn’t know so much what we were doing. It kind of just happened and then it was out.

“[When] I think of the time we spent on making [Summer Make Good],” she fondly recalls, “I felt like I could stay in that time for many months … just living there and making the album.”

After transporting a pick-up truck full of instruments from Reykjavik to its makeshift studio by the sea, Múm and an extended family of musicians set up shop throughout the house — employing a generator due to the building’s lack of electricity.

While the album’s compositions are both starkly beautiful and cinematic (see: “Weeping Rock, Rock” and “The Island of Children’s Children”), they are somewhat distanced from Múm’s work on Finally We Are No One. And quite possibly one of the most striking details is the seamless blend of live instrumentation — glockenspiel, accordion and banjo, to name a few — and electronic programming. Recorded by synchronizing the computer-production software Pro Tools and one-inch analog tape, the distinct sound, a mix of vintage hiss and sequenced glitch, greatly enhances the dynamics of the album.

Now, just partway through the tour, Múm is maintaining a hectic schedule. And while the band members have had to temporarily adjust the pace of their lifestyle, it appears that the calming effect of their performance might not only soothe listeners, but rejuvenate the musicians as well.

“[That’s what] I enjoy,” Valtysdóttir explains, “playing the music and being inside the music every night.”