If múm were just an instrumental band, their glitchy ambient electronica
and gloriously tuneful elements appliquéd to matt-machined surfaces
would make them a serious force to be reckoned with. Theirs is the sort of
music – edgy but just hummable – that the tooth-fairy has on her
Walkman as she goes about her slightly sinister night-job.
But múm (the Icelandic quartet of gunnar örn tynes, örvar
fióreyjarson smárason, kristín anna and gyda valtysdóttir)
have a secret weapon – and it’s not the accordions, the cellos,
the music boxes, or the clunky retro Fisher Price music-making devices that
have become their hallmark. It’s those twin’s voices! Breathy, whispered,
strangely accented, both intimate and innocent. Like listening to Tinkerbelle
in the bath. Apart from a bit of la-la-la-ing on ‘there is a number of
small things’, there was only one vocal track on their highly-praised
2000 début album – ‘Yesterday Was Dramatic – Today is
OK’ – but those voices of kristín and gyda’s exploded
out of ‘the ballad of the broken birdie records’ like a little clusterbomblet
of delightfulness. On ‘Finally We Are No-One’ they’re a little
more present, but still only in four tracks out of eleven. What a tease.
All due respect, incidentally, to the fifth floating member – Samuli
Kosminen - whose psychotic demolition derby drumming finely counterpoints
the extended slow lyricism of Track 11 – ‘the land between solar
systems’ – to make of this final track an epic, elemental conclusion
to a uniquely distinctive album.
