Gene and music have been on shaky ground the last little while. In the latter half of 2014 and into 2015, Gene and music were, let’s just say, taking a break. It wasn’t that Gene no longer loved music—he will always love music—nor that he no longer found music attractive—beauty is in the ear of the beholder. It was just necessary for Gene to have some time to himself—to read a book, or listen to birds chirping, to dogs barking, to car horns honking, whatever, just NOT MUSIC, OK?
But in the Autumn of this past year, something extraordinary happened. After nearly one year of aural isolation on an icy and remote island nation in the northern Atlantic Ocean, something finally struck a chord in Gene’s ear. One that hadn’t been struck for some time. Was is music? You be the judge. It makes sound, has lyrics (although Gene can’t understand them), and inspires a certain body movement akin to dancing (although locals might not be so forward). What was it that ended Gene’s harmonious hiatus? Why, it was Icelandic Hip-Hop, of course.
Not in a long time had Gene’s senses been so aroused by something so confusing. An inexplicable feeling was roused in Gene—one that made him think maybe he was born this way. But whether he was born it, born of it, born to it, or bore it himself, he likes it for Pete’s sake, and that’s just the way it is.
The following are Gene’s top 3 picks for Icelandic hip-hop in the year 2015
1. Úlfur Úlfur
These guys are dope. We’re talking pony tail, tucked in shirts, car rallies, riding horses in the suburbs. You name it.
2. Reykjavíkurdætur
These women are dope. We’re talking flesh-tone body suits at their live shows, equal numbers of performers on stage as in the audience (no small feat for sold out shows), and what Gene’s told are empowering lyrics. However, Gene is constantly worried that one of them might punch him in the head for enjoying them a little too much.
3. Gísli Pálmi
This guy is… cold. In fact he’s the nucleus of the coldest crew in Iceland— Glacier Mafia. Even though it’s cold outside, you’d be hard pressed to find Gísli Pálmi wearing a shirt. He’s fit, he has tattoos, he punched Bam Margera in the head, and he might be dating Björk (Gene has trouble understanding the Icelandic gossip sites). Bonus points if you can figure out if he's wearing a grill.
Honourable mention:
Whatever this is:
