Not yet 30, Jófríður Ákadóttir has been making music for half of her life. At only 14, the Icelandic musician and producer was recording DIY folk duets in GarageBand as part of Pascal Pinon alongside her twin sister. After finding acclaim setting 19th-century Icelandic poems to skewed synth-pop with Samaris, experimental impulses led Ákadóttir to form Gangly, a trio that shrouded her soaring vocals in dark, fractured beats.
A little of each of these projects can be heard in the music Ákadóttir now records as a solo artist under the moniker JFDR. Building skeletal compositions from piano, violin, and guitar she clothes their bony frames in shimmering electronics, their rippling fabric lending colour and texture to songs that recall the glacial and austere landscapes of her homeland.
Though minimal in its arrangement, Ákadóttir’s music is suffused with feeling. Many have compared the artist to fellow Icelandic songsmith Björk, who has cited Ákadóttir as an inspiration for her own work. But where Björk’s theatrical productions amplify lofty themes to cosmic proportions, Ákadóttir’s songs home in on tender, intimate details that illuminate her inner life in soft focus.
Singer, songwriter, producer and multi-instrumentalist, Ákadóttir’s vision extends to every corner of her new album, her third as a solo artist and first for Londonbased imprint Houndstooth. The beginnings of the new record were laid down at home – ahome shared with Ákadóttir’s partner and collaborator, sound designer Josh Wilkinson
