It doesn’t happen often, but every once in a while you come across something that’s truly new. So new and different that its difficult to  clearly trace influences. This was the impact the Sugar Cubes had on me when I first heard them on their 1988 debut Life’s Too Good.
That album had no counterparts in what was then an increasingly mainstream alternative rock scene.

Perhaps Iceland’s biggest cultural export, the Sugarcubes were a group of performers who played rather conventional instruments. What was unconventional was how these elements came together to create a surprisingly diverse yet playful take on the alternative pop.

‘Birthday’, the first of five singles, established the band as the most innovative of 1988. The odd combination of musical showmanship, alluring presence and just plain strangeness made vocalist  Bjork the pin-up girl for the rock press. For many Americans like myself, it was the first time I had heard any music that came from Iceland. The very fact that rock could come from a frozen Nordic nation made it intriguing enough.

Musically the guitar, drums and bass were straightforward, but arranged in a way to highlight Bjork’s playful and child-like delivery. Bjork not only sang, but wrote and played keyboards too. Culturally Iceland might have seemed like it was a million miles away, but Life’s Too Good featured themes that any Trans-Am driving American could relate to. The single ‘Motorcrash’ used street racing as a metaphor for angst, while ‘Deus’ could have been interchanged with any childhood fairy tale or urban street legend.

Other elements like off-key chanting in ‘Blue Eyed Pop’ and ‘Sick for Toys’ made those songs sound as if they could have been written for the B52s. If fact, parts of the album drew from the same vintage rock library of influences  that formed the basis of the B52s’ sound.
In keeping with a vaguely ’60s era influences, Life’s Too Good would offer unexpected diversity with rockabilly tinged ‘Fucking in Rhythm & Sorrow’ and the blues-like ‘Coldsweat’.

The more I listened, it became apparent to me that much of the reason Life’s Too Good sounded out-of-place in its time was because unlike Americans most Europeans love our vintage music more than we do. With that line of reasoning Life’s Too Good began to sound like a review of late ’50s and early 60’s musical styles. Even the multiple versions of the cover art celebrated ’60s era space age design.

Still, the originality of the Sugarcubes can not be understated. Little did we know then, the talent leading the band was just the proverbial tip of what would come out of Iceland. Bjork would record with the band for two more albums before branching off to a successful solo career. I the process of putting Iceland on the musical map, she opened the door for fellow Nordic bands like Sigur Rós and GusGus.