Ólöf Arnalds - Spíra (2025) Hi-Res

Iceland. Anyone paying attention to Icelandic music this century knows that Ólöf Arnalds has the ability to captivate an entire room with just a tiny guitar and her distinctive soprano voice. Over five albums spanning nearly two decades, her gently plucked guitar, charango, violin, and koto have served as the foundation for vibrant stories that move between the mundane and the mythical, charting a rich emotional landscape of family love, friendship, and romance. Her music recalls Joanna Newsom, early Nico, and Vashti Bunyan, yet her deceptively simple arrangements and tightly woven melodies are ultimately, and unmistakably, her own.

A classically trained singer and violinist, Ólöf has been active in popular music for 30 years. She first emerged on the international scene in 2003, joining the band múm and grabbing attention on stage with her horned straw violin. But her turning point came in 2007, when she released her debut solo album, Við og við (released internationally in 2009). Produced by Sigur Rós's Kjartan Sveinsson, the album seemed to emerge from nowhere, becoming an instant local classic, winning "Best Alternative Album" at the Icelandic Music Awards, being named "Record of the Year" by a major daily newspaper, and being included in eMusic's "100 Best Albums of the Decade."

Subsequent albums featured guest appearances by the likes of Ragnar Kjartansson and Björk (who famously described Ólöf as "somewhere between a child and a grandmother") and received lavish praise from both media and audiences. However, around 2015, she began to move on to other projects. She founded the grassroots cultural space Mengi in Reykjavik, worked as a copywriter, raised her son and daughter-in-law, and collaborated with her longtime friend and future husband, Skúli Sverrisson, including a piece written specifically for Ólöf and the Iceland Symphony Orchestra.

With her new album, Spíra (Sprouts), Ólöf has rediscovered the joy of composition. In many ways, the album is reminiscent of her debut. It's entirely in Icelandic, with arrangements noticeably stripped down compared to her previous two albums. And, as with Við og við, most of the songs were recorded in one take in Sundlaugin's control room.

Spíra was produced by her husband, Skúli Sverrisson, who also contributes on bass and guitar. Skúli's impressive resume includes serving as musical director for Laurie Anderson, recording with Blonde Redhead, and collaborating with artists such as David Sylvian, Jon Hassell, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Bill Frisell, and Arto Lindsay. Davíð Þór Jónsson also contributes on piano and guitar, the same roles he played some 15 years ago when Ólöf and Skúli toured the world for months at a time.

Bonded by longstanding history and deep trust, the trio conjures majestic imagery from understated instrumentation and simple lyrics. Many songs somehow touch on the challenges of creativity itself and the joys it brings. "Úfinn sjór" (Rough Waves), for example, is a hymn to the darkness of Iceland's long winters. For many, the darkness of winter brings melancholy, but for Ólöf, it's a place where her mind clears and "her heart melts, becoming a stream of words, like before, all the colors of the spectrum," giving rise to solitary expression.

"Stein fyrir stein" (Stone by Stone) is dedicated to her uncle, who cared for her and her sisters in place of her father, who passed away at age 54. The song explores the healing power of nature and the wisdom that can be gained from interacting with the natural world. Ólöf says of the song, "Whether you're climbing a mountain or growing a tree, the key is to keep moving forward without looking back." "My uncle showed me incredible strength when my father passed away. It's the same with relationships. You need to nurture them, but you can only do that by moving forward step by step, stone by stone, and never taking your eyes off the summit."

But looking forward doesn't mean forgetting the past; it's about embracing it and shaping a path for the future. "Vorkoma" (The Coming of Spring) is a song dedicated to Ólöf's longtime friend, the writer Guðrún Eva Mínervudóttir, in which Ólöf sings, "It feels so good to take a bath and cry / I'll stop putting on airs / Pretending the memories don't exist." The song speaks of the will to live, new inspiration, a variety of emotions, and the comfort of friendship amid adversity. The album is rich with floral motifs, an apt metaphor for blossoming after a period of hibernation.

Family love, also a major theme on "Við og við," reappears throughout the album, addressing both its struggles and joys. In "Von um mildi" (Praying for Mercy), a fable about a daughter and mother, the narrator realizes that true forgiveness is not a one-time event, but an ongoing state that one should willingly enter. "If I forgive completely, will I find peace?" she asks.

Ólöf, who is also a daughter, sings about her relationship with her teenage son on the album's title track, "Spíra" (Sprout). The song focuses on the moment when her son travels between two homes after her and his father's divorce. There's great anticipation throughout the week, but when the moment finally arrives, there's slight hesitation on both sides. However, any awkwardness quickly melts away as the two return to their familiar routine, and the slow waltz takes on airy pizzicato wings.

Love has the power to lift us—sometimes suddenly, but slowly, patiently, from the depths to heaven. By the record's end, Ólöf has overcome her inner demons, given thanks, and made amends. She is reborn as a living, creative being with purpose. In short, she is "lifandi" (alive) and deeply in love. "How lucky you are to want me," she sings as deep piano chords pound powerfully. And the listeners who have encountered this music also feel the same way. What a wonderful blessing!