“Reykjavik is the worst possible sort of provincial town as far as amusing oneself is concerned, and there was nothing to do but soak in the only hotel with a license; at ruinous expense.”
- W. H. Auden, Letters From Iceland

As Kai already pointed out, it’s almost time for us to pack our things and to head to the airport. Almost. And while we both excitedly count down the days towards our touch-down in Reykjavik, we both started preparing our gear, which in my case inevitably includes loads of books. And also reading whatever publication is out there about Iceland and the music.

Through this, one thing became clear for me – we will not be able to create a complete and exhaustive portrait of Iceland and its musicians. But this was never the idea behind our project. Better people than us have done much better jobs on creating detailed overviews of the Icelandic scene than we could ever hope. But our trip is really about two guys armed with pen, notebook, camera and functioning ear canals traveling because we want to, and not because someone pays us to. Think Bud Spencer and Terence Hill, or even Raoul Duke and Doctor Gonzo, though we are not searching for the American Dream but our own. And this is what we’ll share with you – a spotlight of the Icelandic scene, after a global economic crash and almost 30 years after The Sugarcubes first put Iceland on the musical map of the world. So please stay with us and see/hear/read what we’ll discover over there.

PS: yes, you can still donate and receive a nice postcard. Please do.