Miri

Het viertal Miri stond vorig jaar ook geprogrammeerd en is ditmaal elke dag te bewonderen op het muziekfestival, maar op het ongewone tijdstip van vandaag hadden ze niet veel bezoekers verwacht. ‘Ik had gehoopt dat er niemand zou komen en we niet zo goed hoefde te spelen, maar er zijn zoveel mensen, dus onze verontschuldigingen wanneer we slecht zijn’, aldus de spraakzame bassist. De instrumentele post-rockband heeft met vijfenveertig minuten een lange speeltijd gekregen en weet ondanks de vermoeidheid een energiek optreden te geven. De mannen hoeven niet te twijfelen over hun optredens, ondanks ze zeggen geen harmonica speler te hebben vandaag. - festivalinfo.nl

Following this with more post-rock, were Miri from east Iceland. This was more melodic feel-good rock. I mean, how can you not feel good when the bassist looks so stoked with that smile on his face? It’s just contagious. They’ve been playing together for a while, and you can definitely hear it. Though I’m not very familiar with Icelandic math rock, this is probably Icelandic math rock at its finest.

For their second to last song, the band called up singer songwriter Snorri Helgason who joined in with the harmonica. There is something very Icelandic about this. There seems to be a lot of camaraderie in Iceland’s creative scene with artists employing their fellow artists to jump in and do this or that. It’s pretty neat. And the combination of these artists who otherwise play such disparate music was an exciting and successful experiment.

Snorri hopped off stage and Miri played one final song. Watching the drummer in all his intensity simultaneously singing seemed akin to the difficulty of rubbing your belly and patting your head at the same time, but he had obviously mastered the task. This time the guitarist also really let loose and they finished in pure ecstasy.
- The Reykjavik Grapevine

Miri is a captivating, mainly instrumental quartet from Iceland that explores terrains of both the experimentally bombastic and meandering melancholic, merging the intensity of disparate rock worlds together and touching on everything in between in their virtuoso, spacey songs. The short second track, “Sumarið 2009?, plays with Ennio Morricone’s twangy, echoing desert moods in a two-minute breath before the avant-rock strangeness of “Hamingjulagið”, as if to prepare our ears for the odd chord structures to come. Though there is warmth and power in what Miri put forth, this is not easy music since its deftness comes with a price of prog tendencies and startling structures. If you are in the market for a band that will take you to unpredictable heights, look no further and end your day riding a rocket to a glacier.–Selina S. - Sentimentalist Magazine

Miri is a captivating, mainly instrumental quartet from Iceland that explores terrains of both the experimentally bombastic and meandering melancholic, merging the intensity of disparate rock worlds together and touching on everything in between in their virtuoso, spacey songs. The short second track, “Sumarið 2009?, plays with Ennio Morricone’s twangy, echoing desert moods in a two-minute breath before the avant-rock strangeness of “Hamingjulagið”, as if to prepare our ears for the odd chord structures to come. Though there is warmth and power in what Miri put forth, this is not easy music since its deftness comes with a price of prog tendencies and startling structures. If you are in the market for a band that will take you to unpredictable heights, look no further and end your day riding a rocket to a glacier.–Selina S. - Sentimentalist Magazine

Miri is a captivating, mainly instrumental quartet from Iceland that explores terrains of both the experimentally bombastic and meandering melancholic, merging the intensity of disparate rock worlds together and touching on everything in between in their virtuoso, spacey songs. The short second track, “Sumarið 2009?, plays with Ennio Morricone’s twangy, echoing desert moods in a two-minute breath before the avant-rock strangeness of “Hamingjulagið”, as if to prepare our ears for the odd chord structures to come. Though there is warmth and power in what Miri put forth, this is not easy music since its deftness comes with a price of prog tendencies and startling structures. If you are in the market for a band that will take you to unpredictable heights, look no further and end your day riding a rocket to a glacier.–Selina S. - Sentimentalist Magazine

Einhundert Menschen haben wir gefragt: Nennen sie fünf Dinge, die sie mit Island assoziieren! Märchenhafte Landschaften, Einsamkeit, Kälte, eine florierende Musikszene und selbstverständlich Vulkane, die ganz Europa mitunter wochenlang in Atem halten können. Jeder Besucher der Insel wird schwärmend die ersten drei Punkte bestätigen. Was Musikszene und die Auswirkungen von unaussprechlichen Vulkanen betrifft kann das inzwischen auch jeder, der selbst noch nicht dort war.
Alles ist im Verhältnis klein und familiär und für viele internationale Veröffentlichungen scheint das Geld oder der Markt zu fehlen, deswegen werden sie nur landesweit oder über das Internet vertrieben. Dass Island schon lange kein unbekannter Fleck auf der musikalischen Weltkarte ist, setze ich als allgemein bekannte Tatsache voraus. Mitverantwortlich für diesen Trend ist u.a. das junge Label Kimi Records, das seit 2007 kräftig mitmischt und aktuell mit Retro Stefson, Hjaltalín und FM Belfast gleich mehrere heiße Kandidaten im internationalen Rennen hat.
Die aus der Ecke des Indie und Postrock (Kimi bedeutet übrigens so viel wie Ecke) stammende Band Miri, hat das Potential der nächste Hit zu werden, den das Label landen könnte. Nach „Fallegt Þorp” (2005) und einer Remix-EP (2010) ist im vergangenen Jahr auf Island auch das von Curver Thoroddsen produzierte Debütalbum „Okkar“ erschienen. Alle Potential-Alarmglocken sollten bei diesem Album schrillen und so gestaltet sich auch das farbenfrohe Intro. Gesampelter Sirenensound, von Drums und Synthesizer unterlegt, mündet in gitarrenlastige Melodieverliebtheit. Ein einnehmendes Wechselbad der Gefühle. Aber die Band beherrscht das Spiel mit experimentellen Kontrasten, bei dem viel Fingerspitzengefühl gefragt ist.
Noise bzw. Postrock mit zugänglichen Indiemelodien in Einklang zu bringen, daran sind vor Miri schließlich schon einige namhafte Bands gescheitert. Auch wenn dieser Spagat nicht über das ganze Album funktioniert und dem Hörer einiges an Durchhaltevermögen und Hör-Kondition abverlangt wird, sticht das fast ausschließlich instrumentale „Okkar“ doch klar heraus. Lediglich „Draugar“ ist mit einigen wenig aussagekräftigen Vocalparts aufgepeppt, die vermittelte besonnene und gelassene Stimmung wäre wohl auch ohne ausgekommen. Vielfalt ist Trumpf und der wahre Qualitätsmarker und so werden wir entführt auf imaginäre Mundharmonika geschwängerte Italowestern-Trips („Sumarið 2009“) und Ausflüge auf das `benachbarte` Irland („Hamingjulagið“), bei dem die kurz vernachlässigte Melodieaffinität wieder zum Vorschein kommt. Nicht nur die Flöte verleiht dem Sound von Miri an dieser Stelle eine majestätische Größe.
Dass die Band aus Island stammt hört man ihrem Sound an. Weite, Einsamkeit und Trostlosigkeit treffen auf stürmische Natur. Aufwühlend und äußerst Bildgewaltig vereint „Okkar“ alle Elemente gutgemachten Postrocks. Vulkanausbruch OST. - Fast forward magazine

Es gibt diesen einen magischen Moment, wenn in »Hamingjulagið«, dem fünften Song des Albums, überfallartig die Bläser einsetzen und plötzlich tausend Feuerwerkskörper explodieren. Dann haben sie es geschafft, die Vier von den Westfjorden, man hat sich ein wenig in sie verliebt. Was bei diesem spröden, eigenwilligen, gitarrendominierten Instrumentalrock so nicht zu erwarten gewesen war. Obwohl die Stücke reichlich ausufern, sind Miri auf ihrem Debüt »OKKAR« Lichtjahre von der innerlichkeits-betonten Romantik des Postrock entfernt. Es geht hier viel mehr um das Ausloten von handfesten Gefühlszuständen. Diese Gitarren stechen wie die Hornissen. Dass Miri gleichwohl (selbst)-reflektiert und fokussiert daherkommen, gehört zu den großen Stärken des Albums.

Die Isländer haben ihre Sensoren aufnahmebereit ausgefahren. Schauen sich beim klassischen Rock um, beim Jazz, beim Blues, sogar beim Countryrock, wenn etwa diese verwundete Mundharmonika in »Summarið 2009« expressiv leidet. Sie experimentieren so lange mit den Bruchstücken, bis sie ihre eigene, schräge Stimme gefunden haben. Einfache Kost ist das nicht. Aber eine Herausforderung für diejenigen, die sich gerne auf Abwege führen lassen. Besonders zu loben ist der ungewöhnlich klare, geradezu krosse, fein austarierte Sound. Und oh, ganz ohne Vocals wollen uns Miri nicht entlassen: Örvar Thóreyjarson Smárason von Múm nuschelt auf »Draugur« reichlich elektronisch verzerrt übers Küssen. Hat definitiv was. - www.nordische-musik.de

This is magnificent. It Really is. Miri, the band who made the album in question, are almost purely an instrumental band, and when they use vocals they are used rather as instruments rather than to convey a meaning. The only song that contains vocals on this particular album is 'Draugar'. The lyrics are probably nonsense words.
Most of their songs are pretty experimental yet accessible at the same time. How they achieve this is anyone's guess. It warrants a mention that this is not dada-esque in its experiments, but compared to "regular music" it's still different. Songs reach the seven minute mark and you don't notice, which is something that rarely happens to me.
Miri's Okkar is a special record as it achieves incredible success as a creative venture while also remaining-to put it simply-fun to listen to.
-Magnús B. Guðmundsson - The Reykjavik Grapevine

Generally, when a band..s guitarist takes to the stage donning a pair of angel wings it's a safe bet that what will follow will be a bit precious, a bit delicate and, well, angelic. So it was a shock when the first song from the Icelandic instrumental quartet Miri gradually opened into churning oceans of sound. The group..s set at Organ Friday night was majestic, full of creamy guitars and startling soft loud dynamics. Their songs arrive at their crescendos the way an inventor arrives at an idea, in sudden burst of joy and inspiration.

- Reykjavik grapevine

Wordless progressive noise mixed with a surprisingly warm pallet of emotions and laced with intricate, mesmerising and often stunningly beautiful guitar work, Fallegt Þorp is a true gem, the type of EP that leaves you wishing for a full-length release. The oddly vacant chord progressions and disconnected sound make for excellent hangover music, a slow, hazy waft that makes you think of a sunbeam hitting cigarette smoke through a window. A fine effort, spoiled only by the half-heartedness of Hafðu Gætur Á Mér, but otherwise unassailable.

- Reykjavik grapevine

"A 7:30 PM set on October 19th by the young instrumental quartet Miri, at the small, upstairs club Grand Rokk, confirmed the virtues of hitting the pavement early. Miri, who come from west Iceland, only had time for two pieces. But the first was twenty minutes long -- a winding road through double-guitar motifs closer to the Texan space-rock of Explosions in the Sky than the glacial concertos of Sigur Rós, with the bonus of a distinctly Beatle-esque clang. One segment was built on a church-bell power chord that sounded like a bright chip off the one that opens "Getting Better" on Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Miri's self-released debut EP, Fallegt Thorpe, is a rougher draft of what I saw. But the promise is unmistakeable."

- Rolling Stone Magazine

The first thing you notice when you open the cover of Miri’s debut album Okkar is the note on the inner sleeve that this album may not be as loud as many other albums in one’s record collection.

The album is mixed according to a so-called “anti-loudness” philosophy, which is, according to the referenced website (www.turnmeup.org), supposed result in more dynamic records.

Whether it is this philosophy or simply the work of a good producer, the album sounds fantastic, incredibly crisp and clear.

The music is more or less instrumental, the only exception being a mumbling guest appearance by Örvar Thóreyjarson Smárason of múm (and almost every other Icelandic band for that matter, including FM Belfast and Skakkamanage).

What sometimes bothers me about instrumental albums, such as this one, is a certain need to show off. If you do not have a singer in your band it must be because you are simply a much better musician than the rest, hence the countless guitar solos at nauseating speeds.

Miri manages to avoid this pitfall completely. The album is in fact quite melodic, the guitar usually serves as a singing voice of sorts and you can pretty much hum along to it the whole way through.

When the repeated riffs are about to turn just a little too repetitive, a little added intensity takes the song to whole new level. It is here that the clear crisp sound of the album really kicks in. The nuances in the music are served beautifully; you can really hear every little detail.

Miri have managed to create quite a diverse album for this genre and have obviously put a lot of thought into every detail.

The use of brass in the stunning “Hamingjulagid” (The Happiness Song), takes a rather dull song and transforms it into something that deserves a name like that.

“Sumarid 2009” is a sad little blues number led beautifully by a harmonica, again courtesy of Thóreyjarson Smárason.

If one has to be a little negative one could argue that some of the songs get a little to repetitive even though band usually manages to add a little something to the songs before it gets annoying.

The album has a good flow, it never jumps out and grabs your attention, but still manages to surprise when given the attention it deserves. - IcelandReview