Kaelan Mikla & Body of Light @ Nice 'N' Sleazy, 12/11/19

I’m still trying to decide what’s more fascinating about Kælan Mikla – the fact that they started out as high school students entering a poetry slam in 2013, that Robert Smith himself personally invited them to open up for Placebo at London’s Meltdown Festival five years later, or that they literally named themselves after a Moomin character. What I do know is that this Icelandic darkwave trio are to be experienced at least once in your lifetime.


It’s only right that winter darkness has well and truly set in time for their debut Scottish show at Glasgow’s Nice ‘N’ Sleazy. First, though, there’s support from Body of Light, Dais Records’ own self-declared synth cowboys otherwise known as Alex and Andrew Jarson. While this Arizona duo’s variety of synthpop has inevitably been compared to the likes of Depeche Mode and Pet Shop Boys, the fact that albums like ‘Let Me Go’ and their more recent release ‘Time To Kill’ borrow from techno, EBM and even futurepop on occasion makes their addition to the lineup an exciting prospect in itself.

There’s a good turnout in Nice ‘N’ Sleazy’s basement by the time I arrive for the main event. Body of Light are already in full swing, the combination of Andrew’s synth arrangements and Alex’s reverberating  vocals instantly whisking everyone away to another dimension altogether. They’ve got a vintage look that complements their sound perfectly too, and while tracks like ‘How Do I Know?’ are a surge of ecstasy that’s enough to lift your seasonal depression in a heartbeat, Alex appears to be having the actual time of his life – in between dancing his ass off and jumping up to reach the ceiling, he also walks directly into the crowd to get up close and personal with us, unapologetically beaming all the way through until they finish their set with ‘Fever Freak’. Despite breaking a sweat, Body of Light make putting on a show look easy and seriously leave you craving more.



 Kælan Mikla are something else entirely. I’d read from their interviews that they try to summon the spirit of the Lady of the Cold with their performances, and it’s the kind of statement that might have you laughing if it wasn’t so frighteningly accurate. As Laufey (vocals), Sólveig (synths) and Margrét (bass) emerge looking almost identical in their witchlike appearance, dark and sinister vibrations descend on the room as part of a ceremonial start that has us all holding our breath. All three then begin to dance to the intensely gripping atmosphere of ‘Gandreið’, and it’s no exaggeration to say that the shrieks that escape Laufey’s lungs could instill fear into any living creature.

From here onwards, the trio are in absolute control. One minute we’re drifting away to the darkwave pull of ‘Hvernig kemst ég upp?’ and 'Draumadís', and the next we’re standing still enthralled by the unusual synthpunk wonder that is ‘Kalt’; the amount of crowd members hungry to capture the latter on camera seems to confirm what a unique sensory experience it really is.

Visually, it’s impossible to ignore Kælan Mikla’s theatrics, either. When she’s not squeezing her eyes shut with her face twisted in a rage, Laufey stares into the void, eyes wide open and darting around the room as she frantically recites verses in order to cast a spell on us. Meanwhile, Sólveig and Margrét give nothing away, their bodies ceaselessly in motion while their expressions remain emotionless. Oddly enough, this terrifying stage presence completely contradicts how sweet and innocent the three of them come across when they’re out of character (as well introducing several of their songs with a smile, they also take the opportunity to dedicate one or two to friends in the audience).

Still, wicked synths linger on with ‘Næturblóm’ and its clattering drums, and suffice to say not even a language barrier can water down the glaring fact that ‘Nótt eftir nótt’ is inspired by nightmares, insomnia and confusion. More than anything, there’s just something about Kælan Mikla songs that’s genuinely unsettling. As melodramatic as it sounds, listening to them really does induce the feeling of being exposed in the wilderness with nowhere to take refuge from the harshness of the cold or the lurking dangers of your own imagination.

Following a brief exit from the stage, Laufey, Sólveig and Margrét return to perform one final song amidst fan requests for ‘a screamy one’. The trio are of course happy to oblige, and the night draws to a conclusion with a throwback to their self-titled debut in the form of ‘Orao’. Although they may not be ones to take themselves too seriously, there’s no doubt in my mind after tonight about how devastating these women can be when they drag you into the depths of their world – once you’ve been there, coming back is like resurfacing from a vivid dream that simply cannot be erased from memory. 




Image credit: Barry Douglas