“These recordings do not contain human-derived sounds,” writes Hafdís Bjarnadóttir in her introduction to the evocative Sounds of Iceland.  This is a difficult achievement in field recording, although with 90% of Iceland residents living in or near Reykjavik, it likely grew easier as the artist left the capital.  A few birds are present, although no Icelandic horses; the focus is on water in all of its guises, save for rain.

The set travels the country clockwise and seasonally, proceeding from spring to winter, when Ring Road can be impossible to traverse.  The format is enticing, in that it invites others to trace its path.  As those who live in Iceland or have visited the nation know, one can’t simply drive in a circle around the country; one must make detours, especially if one wishes to experience the Western Fjords; Bjarnadóttir takes this detour, and I have as well.  In fact…

Karin Park’s Highwire Poetry was one of my favourite albums of 2012, an unexpected gem of a pop album. Despite that being her fourth album it was, at the time, the only one readily available in England and thus the only real contact I had with her music. With the singles Shine and Look What You’ve Done (not to mention the track she penned for Noway’s 2013 Eurovision entry) offering the same idiosyncratic electro-pop with a new spin (one a atmospheric almost-ballad the other a rip-roaring percussion led track) my appetite for her next offering was well and truly whetted.

When Apocalypse Pop finally arrived (issues with an online supplier left me waiting an extra fortnight) my reaction to it was surprisingly subdued. Now that I’ve taken the time to write this review I think my disappointment can only stem from having unfair expectations because, by all assessments, Apocalypse Pop is…

“The future is geopolitical,” declares Holly Herndon in her video for “Interference.”  Or perhaps “declares” is the wrong term, as the words on the screen are not part of the song.  Metahaven’s video also includes blank ads, miming the boxes that interfere with our enjoyment of videos; in similar fashion, folds of cloth interfere with our view of Herndon, while the music is comprised of fragments as tattered as the filmed flag.

Herndon provides fans with much to unpack: layers of meaning shrouded in mysterious vocal snippets, glued to shards of electronic beats and notes.  There’s indeed a geopolitical tone to her speeches and interviews, in which she shifts from spokesperson to superstar, attempting to remain both outside and inside the system.  Her public persona is an outgrowth of her compositional persona, as she comments and soundtracks, attacks and glides.  The smooth surfaces and gleaming edges of her music lend…