The Sugarcubes - Life's Too Good

Hailing from Reykjavik, The Sugarcubes are one of Iceland's best kept secrets. The band had at least 2 previous incarnations first as Tapi Tikarass, and again as KUKL (Icelandic for witchcraft) which released an album on Crass Records. Fronted by both the maniacal Einar, as well as the lovely (then mostly unknown) Bjork. The band's first full length came out in 1988 with the release of 'Life's Too Good' on One Little Indian Records, label home to several other great bands of the time. The sound of the band is wonderful, strange and very unique. It combines elements of dance, jazz, funk and psychedelia. Within the lyrics is offered an untraditional take on the classic idea of the 'love song', the duality of male and female seems to be played upon and put into humorous, often surreal situations. This concept is usually highlighted in the manner which Einar narrates over the song, as Bjork pushes forward, seemingly unaware of his presence.

As the album begins, your senses are alerted to the distant voice of a ranting lunatic, he begins to play a discordant melody on his harmonica. Out of nowhere a bass drum begins beating, as a wailing female voice begins to set the scene "When the sun rises". The raving madman is now much closer, and confidently expressing that "My punctuality is well known/When the revolution takes place I'll be late/And I'll be shot as a traitor". Einar continues to narrate in his unusually reserved Icelandic accent, while Bjork wails away in the background.

Jangly, funky sounding guitar and bass against some frantically upbeat drumming, instantly transports you to another much brighter, but equally bizarre scene which is 'Motorcrash'. A girl riding her bicycle happens across a terrible car accident involving a family. She rushes through the crowd of gathering spectators to see for herself, she seems more fascinated than horrified.

'Birthday' is an unsuspecting piece of whimsical dream pop bliss. A sleepy sounding trumpet against the back drop of careful jazz inspired drumming and chimes begins to draw you in, while the guitar and bass keep a muted, shy sounding melody that endlessly wanders. Like a mobile that hangs above a cradle, the instrumentation meanders innocently, without any of it ever quite falling into place, though it all seems to rotate around one central aspect which is the vocals. Throughout the chorus, Bjork goes from a growl to a wail, creating a dizzying effect that sounds not unmusical but quite soulful. Einar stays in the background on this one, and as it is one of the few Cubes' tracks that doesn't feature his vocals, not at all surprising that it would have been easier to swallow for a mainstream audience, and became one of their biggest hits.

In the 'post-punk' world of the 1980s that brought to us so many of the 'doom & gloom' (most of which I also like) type bands, the Sugarcubes stand far apart. They are upbeat, without being annoying, and strange enough to keep you thinking. The Cubes' played eccentric, humorous, playful, dream-like pop songs, and though they are one of the more memorable bands of the 80s, they are also one of the sadly overlooked.

All albums by the Sugarcubes come highly recommended, but I really advise searching for any of the singles which B sides may contain versions sung in their native Icelandic. Hearing some of these tunes in their own language seems to take some of the novelty out of the strange contrast between Einar and Bjorks vocals.

In the early 90s the band went their seperate ways. Bjork became Bjork, and I don't know what became of the other members. However, they did reform for a one off anniversary show in Reykjavik in 2006... - Joe Western