A sold out Scala saw múm play a surprisingly loud set. The seven Icelandic twentysomethings took to the stage at 9:30pm, accompanied by a dozen or so of their pretty looking friends, opening with what can only be described as a bout of humming. The minute this began I knew I was in for something special. There’s a definite energy that comes from múm and their instruments, live they’re fun and energetic and this show’s set felt more like a jam session than a concert. Continue Reading

Múm are from Iceland. They are exceptionally polite, exceptionally attractive, and exceptionally gifted. Over their two day stint for Wordless Music, they attracted some of the largest crowds ever to the series. They have a dedicated following, completely in love with and absolutely willing to succumb to the band’s hypnotic pep. Where fellow Icelanders Sigur Ros are ominous and glacial, Múm are shiny and bright, the sun that glints off of white ice rather than the dark blue shadows.

As Wordless organizer, Ronen Givony, stated in his introduction of the band, Múm are a perfect band for the series. As an attempt to mix up and smash up generic boundaries from a curatorial level, Wordless thrives not just on the juxtaposition of different types of music but also on those bands that already embody the interzones of classification. Múm absolutely do so: electronic music, folk music, children’s music, “classical” music, ambient music, rock music: each of these categories can describe some part of their sound, but not the complete picture. The whole is certainly more than the sum of its parts. They have an unplaceable, sui generis quality, as though their influences are right on the tip of your tongue, but then you just can’t figure them out. Continue Reading