Ólöf Arnalds w/ Birdengine, The Vortex, London, 02/03/11

It’s the second night of Ólöf Arnalds’ series of shows at Dalston’s The Vortex, and to say it’s packed out would be something of an understatement. While every candlelit table surrounding the stage is encircled by tonight’s turnout, the entirety of the venue’s standing-only area is crammed with spectators, making the toilets and bar a luxury for the few who are able to fight their way through the masses.

This inconvenience for the oversold crowd is testament to the increasing state of popularity that Arnalds finds herself in these days, and despite the uncomfortable surroundings and the inability to move, it’s hard not to be pleased by the Icelandic songstress’ obvious success.

Beginning the evening is Birdengine, the one-man moniker under which Lawry Joseph Tilbury performs his melodramatic, acoustic offerings that are perfectly suited to Arnalds own stripped back material. Manifesting his wide vocal range from deep rumbling bass lines through to a rich falsetto pitch, Birdengine exhibits a real depth of sound and variance with just his voice and a nylon guitar alone. Punctuating his dark, mystic lyrical tales with comical stories involving unfortunate mid-gig mishaps while tuning his guitar, Birdengine demonstrates his ability to capture and retain an audience’s attention, and as he leaves the stage the audience are keen to take advantage of the free CDs he hands out, clearly impressed by the attention to detail and level of technical ability witnessed during his set.

In the past Arnalds has been known to perform her solo material alongside other instrumentalists, and her own musical heritage as a touring performer for the likes of Múm and Sigur Rós displays her proficiency to play collectively. Yet tonight the performance consists of Arnalds alone and her various instruments, as she interchanges between her guitar and her 10-stringed charango. The air of audience participation is instilled almost instantly, as Arnalds warms up the audience’s vocal chords as well as her own by getting everyone in the room to hum along to the ending of first song ‘Innudir Skinni’. This isn’t any kind of pantomime style performance though, rather it serves to set everyone at ease and pulls in a sense of collective communication that translates well into the rest of Arnalds’ performance.

Yet while this sense of crowd collaboration that continues throughout sets a real rapport between Arnalds and her audience, it is also one of the evening’s strains, as the explanations behind the songs, while being of interest and delivered with precise comic timing, often seem to take precedence over singing the songs themselves. One such disruption comes when, alerted to the overflowing capacity by an audience member, Arnalds proceeds to usher everyone forward, and as a result five minutes are wasted while the performance space is halved and keen fans are allowed to sit cross-legged at the side of the stage. It’s a lovely moment, and one that showcases Arnalds’ innate thoughtfulness as a performer, but one that unfortunately eats into the diminishing set time.

Yet when the songs are executed Arnalds’ voice shines through and her melodies radiate across the room and speak volumes about Arnalds’ numerous talents. Her soprano shanties such as ‘Jonathan’ and ‘Klara’ are perfect for showing off her high-pitched, piercing vocals, and as she switches seamlessly between her predominant native Icelandic and occasional bursts into English, her lyrical journeys become apparent. She has a mesmerising voice, one that lends itself well to the number of cover songs that she sings, advancing her own interpretations of Bob Dylan’s ‘She Belongs To Me’ and Bruce Springsteen’s ‘I’m On Fire’ with a deft, yet personal touch.

Audience participation is once again encouraged when Arnalds teaches the crowd the Icelandic words for happy birthday, before the whole room bellows the aforementioned tune to one of her friends. Again this collective singing is reintroduced during her amusing yet pitch-perfect performance of ‘Crazy Car’ where the refrain of “Don’t go in the crazy car” reverberates around the room in unison for a good few minutes, never growing tiresome. And herein lies tonight’s strength and weakness: for some Arnalds’ lengthy explanations and audience rapport are endearing, for others the lack of songs is slightly more enduring.

The manner in which the multi-instrumental Arnalds commands her instruments is incredible to watch and even better to listen to. Her own brand of freak-folk ambiance shines throughout her set, and even though she doesn’t play the much-anticipated ‘Surrender’, her latest single that features none other than Björk on the recorded version, Arnalds’ mixture of old and new material, with a couple of well-chosen and perfectly executed covers hit the mark and make for a stunning performance. If the absolutely crammed surroundings of this show, along with the impressive material she played from her forthcoming album is anything to go by, Arnalds looks as though she won’t be playing such an intimate venue next time she tours the UK.