Of Monsters and Men (Iceland) -Television Love (single)

It has been over five years since Of Monsters and Men’s last album, ‘Fever Dream’ – although there has been the odd single along the way and a ‘mini documentary’ – and much has happened for them and for everyone else since then.

That fact must have influenced the writing of this new single, ‘Television Love’, which, if you wanted to, you might interpret as a mild apology for their absence during that period although Nanna Bryndis Hilmarsdóttir has released a few singles and an album. The others I don’t know about, I’m afraid I lost touch. Life’s like that.

‘Television Love’, which is accompanied by a well made video (by Erlendur Sveinsson) that is as different as it can be from their early (and quite brilliant) comic strip productions (as it happens I’ve been watching ‘King & Lionheart’ all week, it made me think of a ‘hostage situation’), ranges over different periods of their lives as represented by an ever changing conversation which at the same time emphasises both the impermanence of time and the permanence of relationships and friendships.

The main tenet is that no situation is ever completely hopeless and that faith will always be rewarded one way or another. And I guess that means a lot to their legions of dedicated fans, who must have wondered on more than one occasion since they burst on to the scene out of nowhere in 2011 with the ‘My head is an animal’ album and the enigmatic single ‘Little Talks’ if they were going to fade into history.

I find it intriguing that they chose to use an old photo that might have been their very first professional shot to promote this song and I can’t help but feel that signifies something beyond the lyrical significance of the song. As if to stay, “look, we’re still here and we’re staying.”

Now having said all that, the more you listen to the song the more you begin to suspect that there is even more to it. There is an underbelly of angst that builds up along with Brynjar Leifsson’s immense guitar chords and lyrics like “What if we don’t connect the head now?/What if we just don’t think at all now?” suggest that not all is what it seems, adding weight to questions about the puzzling masked and theatrical characters in the video .

As for the repeated references to novocaine; well, make of that what you will. Or that Nanna plays a supporting, withdrawn, secondary visual and vocal role to Ragnar Þórhallsson here, making for quite a contrast with their earlier work.

And of course OMAM are good at that sort of thing. Look at how long it took most folk to figure out the deeper meanings of songs like ‘Little Talks’, ‘Yellow Light’ and ‘Six weeks’. (And I was one of them).

Musically, ‘Television Love’ harks back to all three of the previous albums and the progression they made between them, as if it, too, is part of this story of contrasting change and inertia. Their style and production qualities may have evolved over the years, usually for the better, but even now you can hear the influences of the early albums, especially in the always innovative beats of Arnar Rósenkranz Hilmarsson.

Arnar, incidentally, also pop up as one of the string arrangers here, along with Kristoffer Lo, once of Norwegian band Highasakite, which opened for OMAM on their 2015 tour; their own personal breakthrough moment. The music world is a village, isn’t it?

But the biggest surprise to me is the trumpet contribution (although I admit I can’t really hear it) by the wonderful Ragnhildur Gunnarsdóttir, once a regular touring member with the band. Who can forget that astonishing bridge solo in ‘Little Talks’ when played live?

All of this makes me yearn for another tour. I have to admit the last (of three) times I saw them, in November 2019, they were clearly jaded and washed out. Neutered by touring overkill.

Something here tells me they’re raring to go again, in spite of the passive nature of the video. For now, it’s just good to have them back.

Find them on:

Website: https://www.ofmonstersandmen.com/