Bestu Kveðjur

We Say...

Review by J. Edward Keyes

Sprengjuhollin's debut, Tímarnir okkar (a version of which was released via eMusic Selects) was a runaway success in their native Iceland, topping the charts and making them the go-to band for forward-thinking Reyksters and their parents alike. It's no great mystery why: crammed with spry, vibrant mod songs, Tímarnir okkar yielded maximum payoff for minimal effort, the very definition of a perfect pop album. The band ended up with a string of sold-out shows and live appearances on Icelandic television within months of the record's release.

Following up that kind of instant heartwarmer is a trick, though, and any band that attempts it risks either repetition or alienation. Fortunately, Sprengjuhollin have fallen prey to neither. Bestu Kveðjur is the moment the groups goes from Kinks Kontroversy to Village Green Preservation Society. It's a sprawling, ambitious record, one where a full string section and gang-chorus show up halfway through the first song, and where embellishment becomes the very soul of wit. Bestu Kveðjur succeeds more because it's greedier: its songs reference everything from bar blues to city disco, and there is a kind of grandeur and stateliness to the music here that was largely absent from its predecessor. Not that Sprengjuhollin have gone highfalutin — the songs are still built around sturdy hooks and singable choruses — it's just that they're more elaborate. "Vegurinn" draws power from soaring, symphonic strings, "Reykjafjarðarmein" is built around a burbling calliope and closing lullaby "Á Meðan Vatnið Velgist" rolls out on a bed of booming timpanis.

Those looking for the instant sugar rush of songs like "Glúmur" are likely to be initially flummoxed. But with each go round, Bestu Kveðjur reveals itself to be deeper and fuller and, ultimately, more rewarding than its predecessor. It's the rare sequel that improves on the original, the next giant step from a band bursting with promise.