A few years ago at a conference in Reykjavik about the future of the Icelandic music industry, Sigur Ros's English manager told the assembled Icelanders that if they wanted to find success in the wider world, they needed to stop trying to ape global trends and start playing to their own, individual strengths. Talking to Sigur Ros' Kjartan not long afterwards, it seems copycat syndrome was rife in Iceland. "We had so many copied, stereotyped bands," he said. "When Pearl Jam was big, there were thirty Pearl Jam bands in Iceland and so on and so on."
Twenty seven year old Emiliana Torrini, of Icelandic and Italian descent, has suffered from this syndrome in the past. Her debut album, produced by Tears For Fears' Roland Orzabal, was a handy digest of 1999: a little bit of trip hop, a little bit of Dido, pleasant but hardly original. Bjork-lite, as many people dismissed her. After a relocation to Brighton and a few years as a professional songwriter, however (she wrote "Gollum's Song" for "Lord Of The Rings" and co-wrote the Grammy nominated "Slow" for Kylie), it seems Torrini has finally grown enough to follow that advice and just be herself.
The result is a gorgeously laid back and tender album that could well be this year's dinner party demographic smash. Working with Brixton-based producer Mr Dan (her co-writer on "Slow"), Emiliana relies on little more than a carefully picked acoustic guitar and her liquid honey voice to breathe out a clutch of modern folk songs. There are hints of Nick Drake here, touches of Beth Orton and Norah Jones, even a dash of Minnie Riperton, but really the mood is all Torrini's own: at once wide eyed and resigned, fresh and crumpled, in love and all alone.
You may have heard single "Sunny Road" on the radio, bolstered with a chill-out friendly dance beat. Here it appears with just a light brush of a snare as accompaniment, the almost medieval sounding melody chiming perfectly with her melt-in-your-mouth vocals. The mood, in general, is a mixture of relaxed friendship and quiet solitude. On "Nothing Brings Me Down", she's "home alone and happy"; on "At Least It Was", she spies a friend (lover?) from afar and smiles "I've never seen you look so good/I'm glad you're doing well" like Amelie come to life. A "messy state of love affairs" lies in the background, but never protrudes to the fore, never casting too long a shadow.
It all feels at once Icelandic (the creak of timber and a faint wind in the background of "Lifesaver", the hint of folklore in the title track) and not at all (the rural themes of "Next Time Around" and "Today Has Been OK" - presumably the day before was dramatic - could have sprung from the American midwest or anywhere there's too much sky and not enough to feed ambition). In a way, then, it's the best way forward for the thoughtful, lazy, creative, flippant, independent people of Iceland - just enough of them, just enough of the world.
A truly lovely record.
