Words by

Jóhannes Bjarkason

Photo by

Joana Fontinha

Davidsson processes the death of a father on debut album Lifelines

Following the sudden death of his father, musician Þorleifur Gaukur Davíðsson found solace in music. Using his material to guide himself through the grieving process, Þorleifur embarked on his first solo project as Davidsson, releasing Lifelines on August 8 via Opia Community

To be a full-time artist takes courage. It takes grit and determination to follow your gut feeling toward the next big chapter in life. Þorleifur Gaukur Davíðsson is one of those who trusted that feeling, not always knowing where it might take him.

Having lived in Norway, studied at Berklee in Boston, Massachusetts, Þorleifur established himself as a session musician in both Iceland and Nashville, Tennessee when he was hit with the news that would start his next chapter.

After losing his father in a work-related accident, Þorleifur’s life was upended. “I was in Boston studying, and came back home after I lost my father,” says Þorleifur, on a much-needed retreat in the Icelandic countryside between long periods of work. “He died in an accident. He was a horse tamer and got injured at work.”

Intense grief followed, and Þorleifur found solace found in his music, forming the basis for his solo project Davidsson. “I’ve worked on my own music for a while, but never properly given myself the time to work through it,” he says. “So I started to process it. I never wanted to do a solo album just for the sake of it.”

A cold winter’s day

Coinciding with the album’s inception was a 30-minute live performance film, dubbed Stages, which received the 2023 Jury Prize for Best Icelandic Short Film at the Reykjavík International Film Festival. In the film, Þorleifur is joined by fellow musicians Davíð Þór Jónsson and Skúli Sverrisson — also present on Lifelines — to perform a selection of songs from his upcoming debut. Set in the defunct industrial plant Toppstöðin, the trio meditate on Þorleifur’s loss through musical expression.

Recorded a year after finishing the record, Þorleifur says that Stages took on a life of its own. “It’s a living thing. We’d played this a few times and the versions are never the same. I’m also further in the grieving process. It has another angle, in that way.”

In contrast to the album’s atmospheric quality, Þorleifur mentions shooting the film on “the coldest day of winter,” while Lifelines was made in the warmth of Sundlaugin Studio. “[It had] warmer energy,” he says. “We cooked there. Davíð brought halibut and boiled potatoes. It was a lot homier. They became separate works of art.” He also mentions that he lived in an apartment attached to the studio at the time, emphasising the feeling of home.

Emotional roaming

Produced in two separate sessions over the course of four days, Lifelines explores the broad emotional spectrum following the death of Þorleifur’s father. Across the 14 tracks, the trio have created an instrumental journey of grief, loss, nostalgia, and content.

“There’s a track called ‘Afi’ which is very warm,” Þorleifur explains. “This feeling of visiting grandpa and smelling prune porridge and eating rock candy. ‘Family Tree’ is another single which is more of an introspection on my family. So there’s a larger arc and a broader theme on the album, less directly focused on the loss of a father. But it’s tied to these feelings, because grief brings forward a broad scale of emotions.”

Conceived in a free-flowing interplay between the trio, Lifelines’ musical style is a curious mix of Southern Gothic influences, Americana, and Nordic neo-classical ambience. Spearheaded by Þorleifur’s artistry with the harmonica and pedal steel guitar, the album evokes images of American cowboys roaming South Iceland’s black sand wastes.

“I don’t really know what this music is,” he says. “Because there are elements from different directions and all kinds of instruments. I have a hard time categorising it.”

Pack your bags

Soon after the sessions, Þorleifur embarked on a tour with Icelandic blues rock band Kaleo — he joined the group as a full-time touring musicians in 2017 — and moved to Nashville. “I brought the material with me,” he says. “It simplified the move abroad, because I still had home with me in these recordings.”

Aiming to participate in the city’s flourishing music and studio scene, he quickly became one of the town’s most sought after session players due to his harmonica expertise and musical talents.

“I love being in Iceland, but there’s a certain wanderlust in me,” says Þorleifur. “I was in a place where I could be comfortable and content. But I found a desire to look further and see if I had something to say in the big world. I toured a lot. I was always looking for something. And Nashville pulled me. It’s got the best studio scene and I have a lot of good friends who moved over.”

Icelandic cowboy

Leaving Iceland had its risks, especially since starting his collaboration with Davíð and Skúli. “It was difficult to leave them,” says Þorleifur. “As I moved abroad, I realised I became nobody. You have to start all over again. I enjoyed it. I went out every night, saw live music, and said yes to every offer that came my way.”

Solidifying his position as a session player in Nashville, Þorleifur recounts a moment which gave him that confirmation. After working on an album by American bluegrass artist Sierra Ferrell, he received a phone call from Mickey Raphael — the harmonica player of Willie Nelson’s The Family. “He called me and thanked me, telling me how inspiring it was to hear my performance, and said I was one of the more exciting voices he’s heard in a long time,” Þorleifur reminisces, stressing, “if it weren’t for me, he would’ve gotten that phone call.”

Self-described as “more American than most musicians in Iceland,” Þorleifur’s blues background fits well into the Nashville scene. “I’ve always been more drawn toward that sound,” he remarks, describing his fashion style as, “dressing like a cowboy.” But his Icelandic heritage won’t leave him anytime soon — something he realised during an encounter with an audience member.

“I was playing a Davidsson gig and this guy came up to me after the show. “He said, ‘hey man. You’ve got that Icelandic sound,’” says Þorleifur, with a hint of Southern drawl.“I said, ‘of course! I can’t escape where I come from.’ I’m raised here. Raised listening to Icelandic children’s songs, in that choir tradition. There are elements in [the music] and spaces which I don’t hear myself — but others do when you play.”

Davidsson’s debut album Lifelines is out on August 8 via Opia Community. Listen to singles “On Thin Air”, “Family Tree” and “Streetwise”, out now.