From Iceland — Track By Track: Litli Dauði / Stóri Hvellur By Biggi Maus

Track By Track: Litli Dauði / Stóri Hvellur By Biggi Maus

Published September 10, 2024

Track By Track: Litli Dauði / Stóri Hvellur By Biggi Maus
Photo by
Supplied by artist

Biggi Maus is the solo project of Birgir Örn Steinarsson of Maus, Króna, and Bigital. In this track by track, he talks us through his latest solo LP, the ‘80s new wave-inspired Litli Dauði / Stóri Hvellur. Hear it at biggimaus.bandcamp.com.

Má ég snúza meir? (Can I snooze some more?)

This sad disco tune was the spark that turned into this album. The lyrics are about grief. That split second when you wake up dreaming of your lost loved one just to realise that the person is no more. “As I write this I am in mourning.” The beautiful truth of these words haunt and strangely soothe me.

Gleymdu mér (Forget me)

The punk song of the album, with a badass bassline. The lyrics are about conflict and dichotomy in public discourse. Just because people feel conflicted, they feel entitled for their opinions to be heard at that moment. I disagree. If you feel that strongly about anything, relax before you tweet about it. Emotional comments do more harm than good.

I don’t remember your name

A cover of Friðrik Dór, written for his 2012 album with Ólafur Arnalds and Janus Rasmussen. Hearing this was when I realised this heartthrob was more than just a pretty face. I thought it could be a good cover to reach a bigger audience in Iceland, but the opposite happened. The radio stations passed, and it blew up on U.S. Spotify. I have no idea what happened. Does anyone understand the algorithm?

Óargardýr (Wild animal)

A ballad I made with Valmar Valjaots of Hvanndalsbræður. I wrote it after a conversation with a friend about creativity and the self. We have different views on life, and I hoped it might help him see how he creates his own suffering. I doubt it did, but the song remains a reminder to know one’s own faults, and take responsibility for them.

Hversdags-sleikur (The mundane french kiss)

A love song to the mundane. I’m 48, and live a happy, fulfilled existence with a beautiful family who accept me for what I am. The lyrics are snap-shots of small moments in everyday activities. I realise I might sound like an annoying prick to some… but I don’t give a shit. I’m loving every mundane second.

Ekki vera að eyða mínum tíma (Don’t be wasting my time)

This song hopefully serves as a guide on how to spot toxic behaviour in others. Funnily enough, I have never been asked so often: ‘Who this song is really about?’ You’re so vain — you probably think this song is about you, don’t you?

Tölum bara um veðrið (Let’s just talk about the weather)

Most people are afraid of their own emotions. In Iceland, when awkward emotional occasions present themselves, we tend to talk about the weather. This is a song about those moments. When we feel bursting with emotion, but say ‘Hey… it’s a bit nippy outside, isn’t it?’

Litli dauði (La petit morte)

A song about the eternal present moment, inspired by the writing of Alan Watts and our own painter and columnist Erna Mist who I really enjoy reading. A song about everything and nothing at all. A fitting end to the album… or at least the digital version.

Bonus tracks 

Please don’t go

One of two extra tracks on the vinyl version. It’s strange, when I hear this song today it doesn’t really sound like something I would write. It’s a pop-rock duet, inspired by Fleetwood Mac and The Cure. A song about a separation from what seems like emotional abuse or gaslighting. I wrote it while I was living in Denmark, and my friend Rósa sings with me. My 72-year-old dad is on drums… and he nails it.

Fyrirgefning (Forgiveness)

I really love this song. It has such a nice healing quality to it. It gave me the strength to start making music again, after I stopped in 2015. Three years ago I decided to give myself a birthday present and booked a studio. Then I asked my old buddies from Maus if they would like to come and celebrate with me by recording this song. They all showed up, did their parts in moments and this is the result. When the song was finished I threw the dice and let them decide whether this was a new Maus song or not. And alas… my career as a solo artist was reborn.

Read more about Icelandic music here.

Support The Reykjavík Grapevine!
Buy subscriptions, t-shirts and more from our shop right here!

Show Me More!