Múr

Dynamic Icelandic quintet looks to blur the lines between sound and vision

Kári Haraldsson spends his daytime soundtracking Icelandic films and TV shows. At night, he turns to his categorise-it-if-you-dare passion project, Múr. Grounded by the emotionally driven ambient textures that define his scores, the band uses extreme dynamic changes as pawns for their Machiavellian their storytelling. Icy electronic soundscapes play off Opeth-tinted melancholia, jazz and post rock off Messugah-minded technical brutality, each change meticulously crafted. But despite freely experimenting with such heavy sounds, they shirk away from the metal band tag.

“I write from the approach of atmosphere and mood first,” says keyboardist/vocalist Haraldsson. “Metal is a tool to enhance the emotions and make it hit harder. It’s great for emotional intensity. Before this band, I’d never written heavy music before.” In a sense, this is metal music for those otherwise averse to it.

“People from very different backgrounds like our music and take different things from it,” he expands. “A lot of people that don’t listen to metal have seen the other things in it. Labels can alienate people and filter opinions before even listening.”

Haraldsson’s silver screen savoir-faire sees sound and vision entwined in the writing room. And the band has lofty ambitions going forward.

“The visual part of Múr is very important to us,” he explains. “I like to write music with imagery in mind, like it’s the soundtrack to a movie that only exists in my head. I develop the visuals and the music as the same time so they feed off one other. The dream is to release something that blurs the line between whether it’s a movie or an album.”

On stage, they’re developing their own unique brand of cinema, with Haraldsson’s brandishing of a villainous-looking keytar central to their performance.

“When we started I was trapped behind a lectern of synthesizers,” he says, a look of wanderlust in his eyes. “We’re very expressive and intense live; I wanted freedom to move. I’ve only ever seen the keytar being used as this gimmicky thing, but it’s becomes a prop for me because it’s so large and pointy. It has a presence.”

Another impressive trick up Múr’s sleeve is that Haraldsson’s native tongue vocals are incredibly evocative even without translations. An arresting, hypnotic quality presides over any lyrical value.

“It’s more natural to me to sing in Icelandic,” Haraldsson says of his decision. “In English I felt I was over analysing and putting on a bit of a filter. I’m not a lyric-minded person, I enjoy melodies and the atmosphere the vocals have, rather than the words. I see vocals as another texture that can affect the song.”

Most debut albums represent band’s finding their feet, but Múr have arrived terrifyingly accomplished. Yet Haraldsson wants to extract more from their capacious sound.

“We spent five years meticulously planning for the album’s release,” he adds, before revealing that writing a second, more impulsive record has taken priority over touring. If it’s anything like their self-titled debut, then their future is as bright as their music is bleak.

PROG FILE

LINE-UP: Kári Haraldsson (vocals, synths), Hilmir Árnason (guitars), Jón Ísak Ragnarsson (guitars), Ívar Klausen (bass), Árni Jökull Guðbjartsson (drums)

SOUNDS LIKE: Meshuggah exploring post-rock soundscapes while trying to score a folk horror film
CURRENT RELEASE: //Múr // is out now via Century Media Records
WEBSITE: www.facebook.com/mur.official.band

— Phil Wller