Iceage frontman Elias Bender Rønnenfelt reveals how Copenhagen’s DIY punks-at-heart have organically matured their sound and what it’s like recording a song about rainwater in a studio with holes in the roof and the elements pouring in.
My first encounter with Iceage was way back in 2014 at Oxford Street’s 100 Club. Closing their European tour at the iconic venue, the show was unforgettably intense and untamed. I remember it well, a sold out show packed full of weighty sweaty bodies soaring into each other as Elias commanded the room with his infamous ardent stare. Renowned for their hectic live shows, Iceage fans are gagging to dance once again under the rule of possibly the biggest band to ever come out of Denmark.
Posted up in his flat in Copenhagen I chat to frontman Elias, who has too often been mislabelled as ‘difficult’ and ‘cheerless’ by the press. Anxiously poised on my sofa to speak to him, I listened once again to a preview of the latest album. For the very time the music calmed me, which is so rare for a band with their roots deep in hardcore. Whilst some bands creatively fatigue over time, Iceage remain entirely inventive and thought-provoking, addressing the world’s wrongs with their pounding drums and droning guitars. As my zoom call eventually connects I am warmly welcomed by the chain smoking Elias to discuss all things Iceage.
ArrayHey Elias, congratulations on the fifth album! Many of your fans have been patiently waiting for new music since the 2018 album Beyondless. What is the current emotion within the band ahead of its release?
The feeling is pride and the fact that we are so proud of whatever this is and what Iceage has now become. We’ve been sitting on this record for a while now and it’s nice for it to finally fly the nest, let it have whatever life it has and to let it finally breathe. I really cherish that ten years on since the birth of the band that it hasn’t run its course and that it’s still a deep friendship that provides us with meaning in life.
We’ve been sitting on this record for a while now and it’s nice for it to finally fly the nest, let it have whatever life it has and to let it finally breathe.
This friendship is very much the core of the band, it acts as an anchor for us. At the core of the band we genuinely care for each other and want to spend time with one another, I’m glad that the moments we have together manifest into these songs we create.
On first listen Seek Shelter is unexpectedly uplifting and rousing however there is still some darkness present. Was there a particular emotional drive when writing these songs?
Everything we do is emotionally driven, I don’t know why the record came out the way it did to be honest. When we are talking about this uplifting feel it isn’t that the pain isn’t still present. There is a lot of commotion within these songs and there still is catharsis present but there is also a great deal of compassion. Each creative leap we take puts us in a new position rather than going backwards, forwards really seems to be the way for us.
‘Drink Rain’ for me is a wildly different sound for Iceage, it still bears the same emotion as many of your other songs but there is something special yet estranged with regards to the song.
I had the composition done and wanted to see what I could get away with lyrically. I was in the process of songwriting when in a notebook I discovered some random scribbles about a man drinking from rain puddles. It was one of those things that you just accidentally blurt out. It isn’t actually as personal as it sounds in the song and it’s strangely about a man who tries to get closer to his love interest by drinking puddles of rain water, which is disgusting really and nonsensical. I find the song hilarious, in a way, but also very beautiful. It’s an example of when your brain just creates these absurd twists and turns, like a demented lounge.
You recorded Seek Shelter in Lisbon at a studio called Lamouche, from what I’ve read it sounded like a rather difficult experience at times. Most bands of your calibre demand a lot when it comes to recording a new album, why did you opt for the latter?
We’re always looking for some sort of atmosphere rather than a functional state-of-the-art studio. It rained form time to time inside Lamouche – there were buckets placed around the space with towels. The studio was old, peeling and dilapidated but it suited us and housed us. Funny we would write a song about drinking rain whilst being rained on. It’s a fantastic studio; it feels like there are spirits from the past echoing down the halls.
The studio was old, peeling and dilapidated but it suited us and housed us. Funny we would write a song about drinking rain whilst being rained on.
You really have to lend yourself to the process, we punish ourselves in the studio we let ourselves lose our minds to get to the right place to record. Things were cracked and broken like we are, it made it easier to immersive ourselves in the studio and perform in that way.
Being just just one room and other no rooms to isolate amps or to even get away was an obstacle in itself, but we cherish obstacles, we enjoy working our way around things. It creates more chance for freak accidents to happen; it ensures that things aren’t predetermined.
You have previously described working with Peter Kember aka Sonic Boom as like working with a wizard, in what sense did he personify this wizardly status?
He was just really good with new ideas. He’d constantly add in extra machines and pedals and it would just somehow work. A very valuable trait within a producer is to be willing to listen and be present and he did both. He has his own way of understanding sound and music that is very much unique to him. He became part of the unit whilst trying to birth this album.
Kember of course was part of late 80’s psychedelia band Spacemen 3, did you ever have a relationship with their music and did this feed into your sound?
I still listen to them, I have loved them since I was a teenager. We weren’t really thinking of bringing anyone in because making these records is just sacred to us. Someone drew our attention to an interview where he said he mentioned he would like to work with us. It’s almost reality-shattering when a voice from your teenage years speaks back to you in person – it was quite wild. Don’t get me wrong, we were still having fun and bullshitting with him and I’m looking forward to meeting up with him again.
It’s funny to me how some records come together, by the time it’s done it almost feels predestined. I couldn’t imagine a universe where the record could have come together in other way.
‘Shelter Song’ is a sincere and welcoming introduction track on the album that features the incredible harmonies of the Lisboa Gospel collective. You’ve come a long way from sweaty DIY gigs in basements, how was it recording with a Gospel choir?
Before they came in I was shitting myself as I have no experience of arrangement or any technical knowledge. It was on the last few days of recording and we were losing our minds, your mind is just so tangled at this point of the process. Suddenly the orchestra arrived and we sat down and played them our songs and they were extremely intuitive and started organically harmonising. As soon as they started singing the spirit in their studio it immediately became uplifting and transcendent. It just seemed like the natural conclusion to our recording process.
I really felt like I was hitting notes on this album but as soon as I started to try and sing alongside the choir, it became clear how mangled my voice was. But it was a beautiful contrast.
Without the risk of frustrating you, do you have any touring plans this year?
Our American tour has already been moved to next year, its just one big clusterfuck really. We’re playing a lot of cities in Denmark that we’ve never played before, so that will actually be really interesting. This summer I’m going to go out with an acoustic guitar and just get lost again. I am going to travel with a guitar on my back because that is all I can do right now. I would rather get out and do that than politely sit and wait.
