Múm's The Word

Catching up with our Icelandic friends

by A.D. Amorosi

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Published: Nov 7, 2007

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If beeping, shuffling musique-concrete was all Múm did, that'd be fine by us. The divine Icelandic electronic troupe's 2000 debut, Yesterday Was Dramatic, Today Is OK, did this with surprising elegance and innovation. But by Summer Make Good, Múm's hypnotic melodies found themselves greatly enhanced by spooky arrangements of violas, cellos and accordions courtesy of classically trained twins Gya and Kristín Anna Valtsdóttir. Although the girls have since left, founders Gunnar Örn Tynes and Örvar óreyjarson Smárason are still clinking and tingling on 2007's Smear the Poison Ivy.

City Paper: Who is the "they" behind "They Made Frogs Smoke 'Til They Exploded" on the new album? How do you know these people?

Örvar óreyjarson Smárason: It seems that most people have some sort of memory of torturing animals in one way or another when they were children, just pulling the legs off flies or running over worms on a bike. The particular story with the smoking frogs comes from a Finnish accordion player we know well.

CP: What did losing the girls inspire most in Múm — fear, loathing, laughter, disgust, ecstasy?

ÖS: Their absence did not inspire anything. That'd be a backwards way of looking at it. Kristín wasn't on the record and we don't wonder about how it would be if she were. That's just silly. But Gya does play cello on several new songs and we are happy she did because it was good to work with her.

CP: "These Eyes are Berries" is the sweetest little lullaby, genuinely playfully childlike. Do any of you have kids, or do kids scare you?

ÖS: Samuli our drummer is the only one of us who has children, but Ólöf is having one very soon. I don't think children scare us. That's a funny idea. I understand what you are saying about "Berries," though. I think it has more to do with playfulness in general than with children or a childlike way of thinking. Adults can and should be playful, at least sometimes.

CP: What are you singing about in "Moon Pills"? It ain't drugs.

ÖS: I'm singing about the gravity of the moon and its effect on water, blood and love. It seems that the moon's gravity has a greater effect than we care to admit. Only sometimes we feel it.

CP: What is it like having Múm be you two guys again?

ÖS: I guess in some way we think of Múm as just us two who started it. But while recording and touring, it's hard not to include the other members who play such a big part in this thing. It's not really a contained entity and we try to stay clear of defining it. As for worrying about how we're going to sound or about where our music is going, that's far from how we perceive things. Worrying plays no part in our creativity or in the mind of our little band.

CP: What's the weirdest, worst rumor you've ever heard about the band?

ÖS: Damn, I can't remember any good ones right now. Maybe nobody tells us the rumors. Why? What've you heard?

MÚM Thu., Nov. 8, 8 p.m., $20, Fillmore at the TLA, 334 South St., 215-922-1010, livenation.com

 

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