After a promising interaction with the publicist for the band Of Monsters and Men, I'm sorry to report that I haven't heard back from the woman now that I'm in-country. In a bizarre coincidence, however, we are now actually staying in the band's old apartment just north of the city center.
After tiring of hostels where we slept 37 to a room and Bojo's tectonic-plates-subducting sounding snoring kept everyone awake (except for Bojo) and Bojo and Trinetti got caught multiple times lathering each other's backs with soothing lotion after we all got sunburned at the Blue Lagoon and my morning erection evolved from "manageable inconvenience" to "madness-inducing priapism" and the National Coalition of Icelandic Hostels sent a letter to Trin asking him to please take it easy on their toilets because apparently he processes food like Paul Bunyan after eating an entire fibrous evergreen forest, we decided to relocate to an Airbnb.com apartment for our last days in Reykjavik.
And yeah, not only is this where the band used to live, it's also where they filmed the music video for their hit single "Little Talks." The walls remain decorated with their artwork, including a wolf with colorful feathers and a yellow nose howling at the ceiling and some kind of stick-legged elephant spouting oil from its trunk--the oil crawling up over the bathroom door and scrawled with gold-and-silver graffiti. The band also left their names written above their rooms, and we assume the word "fokkingz" means approximately what it does stateside, those potty-mouthed rock stars.
While this seems like an enormous conicidence, it's really not since any famous Icelander apparently knows all the other Icelanders in vaguely personal ways. You could never play Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon here (with Kevinjum Baconjdarger, I presume?) because you'd start and then just figure out whoever you were talking to knew the guy. Or his sister would work with the famous person at the hospital or their fathers would be golfing buddies.
In fact, Iceland even has what I've come to describe as "Incest Facebook," which is a government website where people can look up potential dates and hookups to find out if their children would be born with 11 fingers. Part of the brilliance of being some American guy going up to a female in a bar is that they don't have to check their Incest Facebook app because all our incest is at least four generations behind us (so we know that Bojo and Trinetti's back-lotioning time is totally fine).
As for Of Monsters and Men, they had clearly passed Peak Plead, but I thought I might be able to sneak an interview with them anyway ("Peak Plead" being a term I invented and used mostly in my head back when I was interviewing bands and musicians a lot; they are basically the most wretchedly aggressive self-promoting artists who will beg, cajole, and weep for you to write them up in any kind of music venue in any significant way right up until the moment they realize they've gotten famous, at which point music writers are of as much interest and use to them as conch shells superglued to a business suit [which is to say, ridiculous and useless to the point where it's almost annoying to think about such a thing]; by the way, this is not an indictment of any particular musician, especially of Of Monsters and Men, who are probably very nice people judging from the way basically all the Icelandic are, but think of any struggling musician you know, and then think of how all famous musicians behave, and tell me I'm not right).
Now the main reason I want to interview Of Monsters and Men is to find out how they had all thos people sharing this lackluster low-flow toilet? Because it's barely keeping up with Trinetti alone right now.