HOT. The only word that needs be used in order to fully describe the atmosphere when my colleague and I walked into Hemmi and Valdi. The place felt like a sauna, minus the oak covered walls, pleasant tree sap aroma and the odd hairy dude wrapped in small towel. A cold drink was certainly in order.
The queue for the bar was huge, getting me boiled up even further – thankfully the sweet tones of Adda helped me to cool off just a little. Prepped with guitar in hand, she smiled to the audience of which the majority were in her support. Her voice was delicate; in fact so delicate that certain people were too busy discussing the latest Football results overseas than giving her the silence she depended on.
Having said that, the abundance of onlookers seemed to enjoy her performance, eventually leading up to an extremely long applause – one of those long applauses that began to become really awkward after a while. For her well-deserved encore Adda was joined by her female companion, to pay homage to the recently departed King Of Pop – fumbling through a delectable version of Man In The Mirror.
After standing behind a bloody pillar for the previous twenty minutes, some space ultimately became available from the hordes of people trying not to suffocate. This was a good job for me though, seeing that Pascal Pinon started setting up on stage.
First off, I must comment on not how ‘cool’ they look, but more to do with the endearing aesthetical charm they provided. With all of them still at high school ages, Pascal Pinon were certainly amongst the youngest inside the crammed Hemmi and Valdi.
Normally ‘sketchy performances’ would be a no go at most shows unless you want to be labelled as ‘fucking shite’ – musical inexperience and technical difficulties certainly didn’t hinder these lasses one bit, if anything it added to the band’s appeal. It’s sure pleasant to see these young ladies captivating a room; they’re that freaking adorable.
Lydia Grétarsdóttir was another hot young lady to perform in a room full of hot ladies – remember it’s not a sexiest remark; just extraordinarily warm. Unfortunately due to technical difficulties, Lydia’s subtle blend of carefree melodies and frolicking granulated-background bleeps had to postponed until next time. She is stunning though, trust me.
Whilst I scrambled past a maze of folks spewed in front of the downstairs toilet, Elin Ey played her first note.
Expecting to see a middle aged rock chick with Rolling Stones tattoos on her forearms and cigarette burns. I was pleasantly surprised at her baby faced looks, her beautifully crafted voice and 12 bar blues guitar references, both of which showed a level of maturity beyond her image.
Highlight of the night includes the wasted British guy in the corner, shouting various comments in a slurred manor. The funniest being “sounds like fackin’ Dolly Parton” during Elin Ey’s floorless set. Good work gals, not so much guys.
- Hemmi and Valdi Laugavegur 21
- Grapevine Grassroots #5 Elin Ey, Lydia Grétarsdóttir, Pascal Pinon, Adda