Sóley

Photographs by Inga Birgisdottir

Text by Ian F. King

Not long after I started spending time with We Sink, the solo debut from Icelandic artist Sóley, my nights became besieged by enigmatic, sometimes troubling (but more often just confusing) dreams. Most recently, there was one in which I was sitting at a too-small desk in a dusty middle school classroom, asking the student sitting next to me where she had transferred from — surely trying to dodge the real issue at hand: why I’m back in the eighth grade. The shy brunette answered with some generic name of website, and I began to lament to her about the rapid decline of “brick and mortar schools.” My apparent fear of future American educational system made entirely of online courses might well be valid, but that fate doesn’t sound nearly as distressing as being chased by a bloodthirsty rabbit who’s looking to jump on you and rip your heart out. Such are the kind of dreams that Sóley wrestles with on her first album.


A member of the clan of Seabear, Iceland’s folk-blooded answer to Canadian indie supergroup Broken Social Scene, Sóley is not the first of her gang to take the stage alone. Indeed, most all of the members have at least one other project to keep them busy in those long hours just outside the Arctic Circle. Often, when a single member of any group steps up for their turn in the spotlight, the absence of the collective talent that helped them find their way there is palpable. However, the more time one spends immersed in We Sink, the more one might wonder how these songs managed to wait so long to surface.