Johann Johannsson: 'Englaborn'
Orignally released by Touch in 2002, 'Englaborn' has been so successful that it has now been scheduled for a well-deserved re-release with broader distribution in the UK by 4AD.
The un-diminishing taste for delicate Icelandic music has been one of the most surprising features of British music culture in the last ten years, growing out of the country’s love affair with Bjork and becoming firmly entrenched with the twin development of post-rock, which Sigur Ros played such a key part in. Johannsson’s music is without the broad harsh sheets of distorted guitar that characterised Sigur Ros’ rise to prominence, but it still deals very much with soundscapes, taking its cue from the curious blend of fragility and peril inherent in vast icy wastes.
This album needs to be thought of as a whole piece - not only does it have clear conceptual unity, certain musical motifs recur throughout, as though we are always being referred to our starting point and hearing different movements in the same piece. It is a neat project, giving a genuinely lofty air to the record and keeping the listener engaged though the twists of the work. Furthermore, all of the record is gorgeous. Played by a string quartet, piano and glockenspiel, the mechanics are relatively traditional, but the effect is unfailingly modern, informed by the sinister and unknown.
Only the opener 'Odi Et Amo' has any synthesiser sounds (a computerised voice reading the eponymous Catullus poem), but it sets the tone for a reconsideration of the role of this kind of classical instrumentation. It also represents a sophisticated composition, not trading in tricks or shorthand. Through the glockenspiel that creates a magical woodland scene in Bao and the fraught cello work of Englaborn Tilbrigoi, to the deathly still of Krokodill, the liquid quality of the instrumentation and its rich softness enforces contemplative listening and active engagement with its own beauty. Quite a genuine gem.
Released 26th November 2007 by 4AD.
Written by Huw Green.






















