Keeping a finger on the pulse

Snorri Helgason will make your morning coffee

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I was made in the mountains. I had spent there summer vacations for at least 13 years so when I close my eyes I can hear music that would suit perfectly to that surrounding. There, in my aunt’s garden at the end of the village are bushes of rose, raspberry and redcurrant. And two apple trees because the third one was knocked down by the storm once. So in my imagination I put on rain boots and with a cup of good coffee in my hand I walk to the garden and sit under the apple tree. And what can I hear? Music by folk singer-songwritter called Snorri Helgason. Look, morning dew is shining in a soft sunlight. I discovered works of Snorri Helgason a few years ago when he turned out to be a surprise guest at a student festival in Cracow. Almost nobody then heard about him in Poland and my editor-in-chief at was transported with delight on Snorri’s music. I remember that Snorri Helgason went on stage armed only with his guitar and harmonica… and actually stole the show. And soothed my terrible headache of that day. He received such a warm feedback from not that easy audience (you know what I mean by a student festival?) that I was impressed. Kudos!   Since that day I have been in love with his music skills and had been pretty sure he can do magic as a solo performer… until I came to Iceland. It happened that

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