Though a collection of distinctive tracks, Eitt is all of a piece. As Ólafsson indulges us, the world keeps spinning on Futuregrapher’s axis—water trickles and laps, parents play with their kids, snow-static quavers as it is sifted through bare branches.
In a recent interview, the venerable Ryuichi Sakamoto (he who ranges from scoring the most Hollywoody of movies to commingling with the highest profile, lowerest-case digitalístes) wondered if the popularity of sweet music by the likes of Max Richter is growing simply because “some people want quietness.”
Each of us has his or her own private inglenook, to which we can repair for warmth and quiet, even if we still would like a little music on. With Eitt, first time collaborators Jón Ólafsson and Futuregrapher (Árni Grétar) have created their quiet by combining the intimacy of the parlor with all of the great outdoors. At the piano, Ólafsson is ice-crystal clear—annunciative, focused on melodic balance. Futuregrapher grafts treated field recordings onto the lyrical tissue he helps generate with his soft synthesizer.
Though a collection of distinctive tracks, Eitt is all of a piece. As Ólafsson indulges us, the world keeps spinning on Futuregrapher’s axis—water trickles and laps, parents play with their kids, snow-static quavers as it is sifted through bare branches. Beneath the piano, “Brot” features the most subtle granularity, a joy to hear and adventure to return to, to plumb all the miniscule caves and crevasses it erodes in the ivories. The graceful, eternally returning melody of “Vestur” brings us as far as we can go in Iceland, to the sea.
Eitt is available on Möller.
