Following The Hidden Hand: Ari Árelíus Continues To Explore His Groove On The Hypnotic Hulin Hönd

“I book these concerts every Sunday, and tonight I decided to book myself. You can do this,” says Ari Frank Inguson, known as Ari Árelíus, speaking from the stage of IÐNÓ during the release concert of his latest album Hulin Hönd on January 25, and the audience bursts into laughter.

A poet of grooves and vibes, Ari Árelíus is a familiar face in the local music scene. He not only books concerts for the weekly Jazz Sunday at IÐNÓ (every Sunday at 20:00), he’s also a mixing engineer (including for the Straumur concert series at Kaffibarinn), teaches guitar and music production, produces for other artists, and performs with others, too.

When, a few days before the concert, I catch him for a coffee, he smiles, “It’s a whole mixed bag of stuff that keeps me occupied.”

Photo by Atli Freyr Steinsson

A sonic investigator

From his first electro-pop EP, Emperor Nothing, to the rich, funky textures of his Kraumur Awards-nominated 2022 debut album Hiatus Terræ, Ari continues to explore this psychedelic soundworld on Hulin Hönd.

“I’m a kind of investigator of various genres and an experimentalist,” he says. “I like taking elements from different genres and fusing them together. I use my intuition to create something that I like, kind of like a painting.”

In this release, Ari blends elements of Ethiopian music, including influences from Mulatu Astatke, the “father of Ethio-jazz,” with Afrobeat and Fela Kuti, and combines these with inspiration from one of his favourite albums, the 1968 proto-krautrock record Silver Apples, resulting in a velvety, mesmerising sound.

“I like music that tends to maybe be ill-definable in some ways,” he shares. “I try to channel that in my music. I try to create something that is hypnotic, a bit psychedelic. Often, there’s an element of Iceland I also try to put in there somewhere. Which is always a challenge.”

Ari started working on Hulin Hönd in 2024, while he was doing an internship in London, experimenting with analogue gear and mixing techniques to create this hazy, immersive feel. “This album was also an investigation of various mixing techniques — and just getting better at that. I mixed it all myself,” he says.

Containing multitudes

Speaking about his artist name, Ari says that, despite some corners of the internet claiming he took it from the Roman emperor and philosopher Marcus Aurelius, it’s just a coincidence. He had initially wanted to release music under his own name, Ari Frank, but it was already taken. Árelíus was one of the names his mother had considered, so he just went with it. Though he’s not particularly fond of Stoicism, Ari holds a BA in philosophy, and themes of fundamental questions of existence are often present in his work, including in the cryptic title he chose for this album — Hulin Hönd, which translates as “hidden hand.”

“I like music that tends to maybe be ill-definable in some ways.”

“It ties into the concept of how something other than free will often guides you through life and creates, maybe, your life story,” Ari explains. “I’m reflecting on those various forms of existence you kind of go through…” he pauses for a moment and adds, “As a kid, I moved a lot. I’ve lived in many places. I suppose, without overexplaining it, it’s about containing multitudes — this phrase of contextual personality and contextual forms of existence, and free will — if it exists or not.”

The idea of outside forces shaping you comes through clearly in “Draumur dó,” a track that, with its “gory synths, groovy saxophone,” and palpable African influences, feels like basking in the sun somewhere far away. But as you start to listen to the lyrics, a darker side opens up.

“It’s about when things that you believed in change without being necessarily a negative thing,” says Ari. “It’s just a shift of perspectives, I suppose. ‘Draumur dó’ means ‘death of a dream’ — kind of like a revolving door, or one door closing and a new one opening.”

Ari continues his philosophical exploration on the very next track, “Lifi drauminn,” Icelandic for “living the dream.” “This is the question that I like to ask my friends and myself,” he says. “Am I living the dream? It’s hard to answer, right?”

Creative overdrive

In Hulin Hönd, Ari wears yet another creative hat. He drew and designed the album cover — a hypnotic swirl surrounded by primitive drawings of silhouetted human figures dancing.

“I guess I was aiming for something that is kind of pre-Enlightenment, kind of pre-Realism — and also, I’m just not a great painter,” he smiles. “I just like doing these doodles, and I felt that was genuine and a reflection of who I am, you know. The album is an attempt to be sincere and genuine about me and who I am, kind of like that quote by, was it David Bowie? Who said something along the lines of you need to be selfish when you make music.”

Photo by Sandra P.

Ari enjoyed the process so much that he says he might want to always handle the design himself. “I like drawing, just chilling like that when I have the time, and listening to music,” he says. “I realised that all my visual artist friends listen to so much music. I was like, ‘Where do you find the time?’ Then I realised, I’m always working on music — I’m practising or mixing something, when they are working on something and listening to albums. So I thought, ‘I’m just gonna start drawing and painting myself.’ I was trying to really listen very well.”

“This is the question that I like to ask my friends and myself. Am I living the dream?”

Hulin Hönd is certainly a very personal, introspective work. Yet despite Ari being the mastermind of the album, he calls on a group of local musicians to bring it to life: Hreiðar Már Árnason and Magnús Eliassen Trygvason playing drums, Moritz Christiansen and Sölvi Kolbeinsson sax and Rashelle Frances Reyneveld harp. “I borrow my friend’s talents,” Ari says. “I have an idea, then I try to let go of it and invite people in. I might have written the core of it, but then I try to heighten it by different voices.”

With Hulin Hönd released on the day we speak, Ari’s already itching to work on his next projects. “I have another album ready, then I’m recording another one in April,” he says. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I like doing stuff.”

Hulin Hönd is out now on streaming platforms and available for purchase at ariarelius.bandcamp.com. Want to catch Ari live? He plays Hörmungadagar in Hólmavík on February 7.