Heims Um Ból Nýjárssálmur by Elsa Waage – A Raw, Unfiltered Blast from Iceland’s Frosty Past
Alright, buckle up. This isn’t your glossy Spotify playlist fodder; this is Heims Um Ból Nýjárssálmur, a 1977 relic from the cold heart of Iceland. It’s got that “we didn’t overthink it” vibe—just straight-up Classical, Folk, World, and Country vibes smushed together like leftovers on a plate. And yeah, it’s kinda beautiful in its own messy way.
Let’s talk tracks. First off, there’s “Nýjárssálmur (Happy New Year).” You’d think with a title like that, it’d be all champagne pops and confetti showers, right? Nope. This thing hits you like a sobering slap in the face. The melody creeps along, slow and deliberate, like someone tiptoeing through snow so they don’t wake up the trolls or whatever mythical crap Icelanders believe in. Elsa Waage’s voice? Damn near haunting. She doesn’t sing—it’s more like she’s whispering secrets into your soul. By the time the strings kick in (shoutout to conductor Dick Bakker for not screwing this part up), you’re already knee-deep in feels. It sticks with you—not because it’s perfect, but because it’s real. Like an old sweater that smells like regret but somehow still fits just right.
Then there’s “Heims Um Ból (Silent Night).” Oh man, this one. If you thought Christmas carols were supposed to be warm and fuzzy, think again. This version strips everything down to bare bones—no bells, no whistles, just raw emotion wrapped in frostbite. Elsa sounds like she recorded this standing outside in December, shivering but too stubborn to come inside. There’s no sugarcoating here; it’s stripped-back and unapologetic. And honestly? That’s why it works. It makes other versions sound like cheap knockoffs designed for shopping malls.
Look, I ain’t gonna lie—this album ain’t for everyone. If you’re looking for polished production or flashy beats, go stream some TikTok trend song instead. But if you want something that feels like a time capsule from another world—a glimpse at what music sounded like before algorithms tried to tell us what to like—then give this a shot.
And here’s the kicker: listening to this made me realize how much modern music lacks guts. We’ve got autotune and layers upon layers of crap masking any actual humanity. Meanwhile, Elsa Waage just stood there in 1977, laid her heart bare, and said, “Take it or leave it.” Spoiler alert: I took it.
