Seabear The Ghost that Carried Us Away by: Ed Butler Tue:11-Dec-07 Label: Morr Music Year: 2007 WB rating 68 out of 100

Is it illegal to not love music by Icelanders? I hope not. After years of gushing receptions for Sigur Ros, Björk, Múm et al, Seabear now appear on our horizon, another musical pilgrim from what is apparently the most sonically apt landscape on Earth. However, Seabear, thankfully, resist the temptation to conjure images of glaciers and plateaus in their music, instead creating a charming mélange of the Scandinavian and the American. 

Like the only kids who grew up in their native Reykjavik with a Dylan record, Seabear appear much more likely than their compatriots to resort to the acoustic guitar and 4/4 time signatures rather than assaulting an electric with a cello bow or relying solely on countless human voices. No, The Ghost that Carried Us Away remains remarkably free of affectations. This absence of extraneous instrumentation has created an album where songwriting verve and creativity is forced to take centre stage while atmosphere is yanked to the side by a remarkably long walking stick. 

By and large, it works, but not too well. 

When it all the pieces fit though, it’s thoroughly spectacular. ‘Hospital Bed’ opens on a mournful violin and tinkling piano reminiscent of Nick Cave’s And No More Shall We Part, with a gentle vocal backed by what sounds like every one of the six remaining members harmonizing quietly in the background. It floats along a bit anonymously until suddenly, the violin is joined by two more, and the result is as beautiful as anything achieved by those other bands more synonymous with their homeland. ‘Arms’ however sounds much more like something you’d hear on a Saturday night at the Birdsville pub than on a record by seven Icelandic debutants. All Irish rhythms and bouncy fiddles, it recalls The Waifs’ more rambunctious efforts, while ‘Sailor’s Blue’, with its slothful tempo and desolate harmonica, is also appealing, its xylophone and gentle guitar picking adding an extra dimension. 

Pretty as The Ghost that Carried Us Away may be, however, it’s strangely forgettable. Much of the record washes over the listener, without alighting on any part of the brain that would render it memorable. Seabear are clearly aiming for that oft-sought musical turf nebulously labeled as ‘quirky’, and occasionally, they manage to land a shot or two. But when they miss, the flat patches are just that. ‘Lost Watch’ searches in vain for the same sorrowful ground as ‘Sailor’s Blue’, but lacks the charm and sense of sadness which sets the latter apart from much of the record.

Ultimately, Seabear, funnily, just aren’t Icelandic enough. Or, more accurately, they don’t feel quite odd enough to wear what has become a distinguished musical brand, which is of course patently unfair. Most of the tracks here are instantly accessible, and equally forgettable. And sadly when they go the other way, with tracks like ‘Hands Remember’, they may be odd enough to bear the Icelandic tag, but the processed drums and woozy rhythms are just too suggestive of Yoshimi-era Flaming Lips.

If you’re looking for another addition to the ever-increasing canon of Icelandic epic soundscapes, perhaps you should look elsewhere. If it’s a quick fix of charming harmonies, obscure instruments and cute melodies you’re after, then you’re sure to find something here.