Karolina Fund is kinda-sorta the Icelandic version of Kickstarter – a place where you can post your project and seek financial contributors to help make it a reality. I’ve supported a handful of projects on that platform over the years, from a book on the 25th anniversary of the music-video-arts collective Gusgus to the vinyl pressing of CELL 7’s 2019 album Is Anybody Listening?, putting my money where my mouth is. When I saw that the one-and-only Curver was using Karolina Fund to back the re-release of his 1994 debut album Haf, this time doing it on vinyl, I couldn’t get out my credit card fast enough. I’ve had it on CD for years, but I wasn’t going to miss this chance to get the record as well as well (and in the process breaking my rule1 about not buying something on vinyl if I already have the CD).
Cuver first came to my attention early in my Icelandic obsession when we caught the avant-garde-industrial-hip-hop2 experience known as Ghostigital at Iceland Airwaves in 2009. But Curver is more than the electronics brainchild behind that outfit – he’s also one of the more prolific Icelandic engineers and producers. My man is seemingly everywhere, all the time, making it happen. His solo works, however, have generally flown under the radar. Many of them have also been hard to get – 1995s Febrúar was self-released on cassette and the vinyl pressing of 1997s Sjö was limited to only 77 copies, and despite mine being somewhat warped it’s still a prized possession. Listening to Curver’s solo material requires a certain amount of effort. And obsession. Which, well, I have in abundance.
Haf fits into what we were calling Indie back in the early 90s, before Indie became it’s own specific genre and sound. Back then Indie was simply outsider music, artists that didn’t follow the corporate, chart-driven formulas and instead operated out on the furthest fringes, or even entirely underground. If you were lucky enough to have a college radio station nearby you certainly could have heard these artists beamed into your bedroom, as you sat and tried to fully grasp what you were hearing, with almost no way to learn more about it. That’s Haf‘s world. Sure, “Rautt Hús Brennur” has guitars and bass and vocals, and what I’m almost certain is a drum machine, and it has a vague rock sensibility. But it’s also something “other”, a blend of lo-fi aesthetic mixed with some technology (and good production), an artist not trying to make something perfect but instead something earnest. While stylistically coherent, Curver does mix things up a bit. “Dýpi” brings considerable urgency, almost to the point of generating anxiety; the intro to “Á” is jazz-like before allowing the song to settle into a more math-rock-esque pattern; meanwhile “Í Fallinni Borg” could easily fall into the goth rock camp. This blend of intentionality and experimentation is what makes it so approachable and allows Haf to retain its relevance 30 years later. In a way it may be even more relevant today, a time capsule of a certain era and the artists who made it what it was.
The vinyl pressing of Haf is limited to 200 copies, with each copy signed and individually numbered on the reverse. It’s beautifully packaged in a gatefold jacket with an insert featuring photos and copies of old articles, and the blue swirl vinyl is eye-catching. It’s well-mastered and sounds quite good – so rest assured, you’re getting quality across the board. Karolina Fund also offered a purchase option that included an old-stock copy of Curver’s 1994 7″ with Stilluppsteypa, “Inside AM / Make Star Shine” – just know that didn’t come with every copy of Haf, and it’s not technically part of the release. As for getting your hands on a copy… I have no idea what to tell you other than put it on your Discogs wantlist and wait. And when it shows up, pull the trigger, because you might not see another copy for a while. You can, however, stream it on Spotify, and I encourage you to check it out.