Why we should be paying attention to Iceland’s music scene

“There’s an association that people have with Iceland. They think about nature, folklore, volcanoes, the northern lights, and indie rock,” says Bjarni Daníel, frontman of Supersport!, one of Iceland’s most exciting new bands. And he’s not wrong. To think of Iceland is to think of breaktaking, dramatic scenery; bucket-list sights, geothermal springs, and the clash of fire and ice.

You will also likely conjure the image of the country’s most famous musical export, Björk, along with The Sugarcubes, Sigur Rós, Ólafur Arnald, Of Monsters and Men, and Laufey. Despite sounding nothing like the experimental lull of Sigur Rós, Supersport! find themselves in constant comparison. “You heard our concert last night, did you think we sounded like Sigur Rós?” Daníel puts me on the spot. Not in the slightest. The quartet of twenty-somethings make charmingly eclectic, headbanging indie-pop. “It’s ridiculous when we get these comparisons,” says Daníel, and I have to agree.

Iceland’s music scene runs far deeper than Björk’s ethereal synths and Sigur Rós’ majestic dreamscapes. And while the legends provide a masterclass in artistry, there are thousands of Icelandic musicians making waves below the surface. “You either do sport or you do music,” says Rún Árnadóttir of Reykjavík-based three piece Virgin Orchestra. Though, more often than not, the biggest obstacle of being an Icelandic musician is the island itself.

The stunning yet sparse Nordic country sits between the North Atlantic and Arctic oceans, making its nature incomparable and its communities close-knit. The downside? Iceland’s remote location means opportunities are few and far between, not to mention the financial strain of leaving. For musicians trying to make connections, see and play live music, or simply, get heard, this can prove challenging. Enter: Iceland Airwaves festival.

For four days every November, Reykjavík is transformed into a who’s who of the music industry. The quaint capital city – brimming with puffin merchandise and hot dog stands (a must-try) – becomes a hive of the buzziest bands, producers, label heads, press, and music obsessives. Having celebrated its 25th anniversary earlier this month, Iceland Airwaves has become the place to go to discover fresh talent – or to be able to claim “I saw them at 1k followers”, when your colleagues catch on a year later.

“[Iceland Airwaves] is actually kind of a miracle for Iceland,” says Árnadóttir. “All of these press and business people coming to see shows from up and coming bands. It’s hard to leave this country, so it gives small Icelandic bands a chance to showcase themselves. We’re a tiny island in the middle of nowhere, but Airwaves is so important for the music scene here.”

Árni Árnason, manager of marketing and communications for Iceland Music (oh, and bassist for The Vaccines), has grown up with Iceland Airwaves. “It’s the mardi gras of the local scene. The way it’s galvanised the music scene in Iceland is incomparable to anything else. It’s the most valuable and important brand that the local music culture has. I live and breathe for it,” he tells me. Árnason and The Vaccines headlined the festival’s 25th anniversary lineup this year, performing alongside Bar Italia, English Teacher, Joy (Anonymous), Anish Kumar, Magdalena Bay, Mary in the Junkyard, Overmono, as well as a flock of Iceland’s most exciting new names, Supersport! Virgin Orchestra, Elín Hall and Inspector Spacetime, to name a few.

Between excited conversations about the must-see names of 2024, another important conversation was prevalent among festival-goers. “It’s getting harder to be a musician here because venues are closing down,” says Árnadóttir, referring to the closure of beloved venue Kex, the latest of several independent spaces to shut its doors for good. “Now is the moment to start thinking about what can come out of this situation. How can we work with this void?” Asks Daníel. “We’re looking for ways to turn this sad situation into an exciting opportunity.”

Which is exactly what Daníel and Supersport! are doing – offering a solution. ‘Hide and Seek’ is the band’s master plan, a concept where they organise concerts anywhere that isn’t officially a venue. “The only rule is that you can’t use the same space twice,” says Supersport!’s Hugi Kjartansson, who came up with the idea. “There are plenty that still exist, but what’s missing are accessible venues for upcoming, emerging artists,” he adds. 

Árnason agrees that plenty of venues still exist, and has faith in the bands of tomorrow. “In order to make a list of five venues that have closed in Iceland you’d have to go back by 15 years. The number of venues has stayed the same, it’s just that some are culturally meaningful to us and it’s a real shame when they leave. But what happens is that somebody like Supersport! takes it into their own hands and does something wonderful with it,” he explains, referring to the Hide and Seek concept. “[The closures] hurt and it’s a shame, but even if you shut all the venues there would still be live music, it would just find another way to exist.”

There are six venues alone featured on Iceland Airwaves’ lineup (Reykjavík’s art museum, Kolaport, Gaukurinn, Iðnó, Nasa, Fríkirkjan) and that’s without mentioning the venues hosting off-schedule gigs, happening constantly all around the city. Local favourites include a converted cinema Gamla bíó, legendary record store 12 Tónar (also a label for Icelandic artists), and Lemmy, where you’ll discover a sort of drumming karaoke – “It’ll be someone doing their best to play drums along to an AC/DC song. It’s a fun concept,” recommends Supersport!’s Dagur Reykdal Halldórsson.

How about the clubbing scene? Well, Radar – Reykjavík’s electronic music hub – and Auto, are among the best. But mainly, “We don’t go out clubbing, we go to concerts to violently dance to experimental stuff,” says Árnadóttir of Virgin Orchestra. Though be warned, as Supersport!’s Daníel warned me, “Iceland’s drinking culture is not chill.” It’s safe to say Icelanders go even harder than Brits, with most bars open until 4 or 5am, putting London’s measly 3am closures to shame. But go easy, the beer is much stronger than we’re used to.

There is an impressive, tangible self-assuredness and hunger exuding from Iceland’s emerging artists. The music they’re making, which often comes crashing into the stratosphere with full force, retains a rawness to it. According to Árnason, this is a result of the land that raised them: “The lack of opportunities is also what gives [the music scene] a unique flavour. Music isn’t made to be heard, it’s made to pass time.” 

Icelandic artists are not making music manufactured with social media in mind, but built on emotion and necessity. Unlike so much of what we consume, the sounds they are releasing are an authentic antidote to the algorithm-forged beats of the mainstream. At times, it may be moody, heavy and hardcore, but it’s also fun and freeing.

It’s true that there will always be challenges, particularly in creative fields. In the UK, last year we lost a huge 125 independent music venues, and Berlin is facing a similar situation. But what’s also true is that no matter what obstacles stand in the way of creatives, they’ll do what they do best: get creative. Events like Iceland Airwaves and concepts like Hide and Seek prove that, despite challenges, the music scene will always find a way. On this Nordic island, you could even say it’s thriving. So next time you’re considering an Icelandic adventure to see the northern lights, why not catch the stars of tomorrow too? 

Iceland Airwaves returns from 6–8 November 2025. Get super early bird tickets here.