
Album · 9 tracks · 47 min · Released 23 October 2026
Hrím means frost. I wrote most of it in the weeks when the sun doesn't clear the mountain, and recorded the last piece on the beach the morning the fjord froze at its edges.

Live
Doors at seven. Come early for the new songs.
Saturday, November 14 · 7:00 PM
Save my spotThe new album

Album · 9 tracks · 47 min · Released 23 October 2026
Hrím means frost. I wrote most of it in the weeks when the sun doesn't clear the mountain, and recorded the last piece on the beach the morning the fjord froze at its edges.
Start here

Album · 9 tracks · 47 min · Released 23 October 2026
Hrím means frost. I wrote most of it in the weeks when the sun doesn't clear the mountain, and recorded the last piece on the beach the morning the fjord froze at its edges.

The sounds behind the album: patches from the modular wall, field recordings from the beach and the harbour, and drums played on factory pipes. Yours to use in your own tracks.

A soft cotton tee, printed to order.

An 11 oz glossy mug, dishwasher safe.


About
I grew up in Seyðisfjörður and came back in 2018, after ten years of playing in other people's bands in Reykjavík and Berlin. My studio is the old fish factory by the harbour, where the walls hold the cold and a wall of modular synthesisers keeps me warm.
I write for the screen as often as for records: short films, a few documentaries and one very quiet ferry advert. Most of what I sell started as a field recording, a patch or a drawer of score sketches.

Letters
A short letter when there is something to hear: a new piece, a field recording or a score I have finished. About six a year.