Vigil Lights in Ash: A Review of Gugga Lísa's Debut
The quietness that inhabits Gugga Lísa's singing embodies a type of acoustic resonance that resonates beyond something that is simply stillness. There is an essence of tangible rawness beneath this peaceful experience; something heavy underfoot weighing you down and with static in the air and warm ash around you. On her first single “Virgin,” the experience is more than just a musical piece but rather a prayerful light(s) left on all night.
Gugga Lísa (Guðbjörg Elísa Hafsteinsdóttir) comes into this world as a survivor and not as a debut singer. Her life follows the trajectory of the archetypal heroic character's journey: falling down, facing the truth; and returning back to where they started from. In Gugga Lísa's case, she redefines the traditional Hero's journey as being based on submission as opposed to prideful arrogance. The path that each chooses has everything to do with the decisions one makes along the way.
On the debut record Komi Ríki Þitt (Thy Kingdom Come), faith is no longer an easy sell; it is now a history that has been mistreated and weathered by the elements. The emotions expressed through each piece carry with them the weight of the have endured a rough past. “Virgin,” based upon a parable referenced in many Christian cultures, flows with a sense of urgency; we have prepared our lamps; have our minds wide open; and are focused on our way back to God—all without fuss or hoopla.
An angelic voice that is also grounded is what leads the way throughout all of the arrangements. There is also worship, but there is narrative intelligence as well. Gugga uses intimacy as a tool. She builds trust through truth, one micro-beat at a time.
The instinct for this runs deep. The first song, "Engillinn minn (Angel of Mine)," is a memorial to Gugga's mother, as filmed using the very same fur coat that her mother had worn to demonstrate on behalf of Icelandic parliament during one of their most significant protests. The history of the family thus becomes the visual representation of the history of the family, and memory becomes the message.
Other songs on the album consist of, among other things, ancestral prayers, prophetic rock songs, and popular live songs, such as “Kvöldbæn” and “Soldiers of the Word United,” and together they create a cohesive pathway from brokenness to restoration, from ashes to breathing.
Gugga Lísa does not perform belief; she lives it. In a world that is loud with the certainty of the existence of God, her music does something rather few are able to do—namely, it listens back.