Icelandic music stolen /
Concerning proper respect

Earlier this evening I was reading up on the fourth edition of Shadowrun rules with the television news as a background noise when I heard a familiar tune that kind of got me intrinsically, but unbeknownst, humming to it’s melody. Still I kept my nose firmly down in my rulebook for the news seemingly did not raise enough interest for me to take notice of general things worthy of attention, ... or so I thought. Few moments later though the anchoring reporter mentioned a name of a late relation of mine and in an instant I automatically switched back to reality. The tune I had found myself humming to turned out to be “You raise me up” performed by Josh Groban, but with the mentioning of the name Vilhjálmur Vilhjálmsson (Willhelm Willhelms’son) everything had automatically clicked into place and I knew beforehand how the rest of the news report was going to unfold. In essence, the song “You raise me up” popularized by Josh Groban had all the signatures of being nothing more than a strong candidate of becoming a premium textbook example of a plagiaristic work of art!

The reporter stated that Jóhann Helgason who composed the music to Vilhjalmur’s song „Söknuður“, (meaning Regret or Missed dearly), had filed a lawsuit in Britain on those taking credit and holding the rights to the music to the song “You raise me up”. Interestingly enough it was stated in the report that 97% of the whole music is exactly like it’s original Söknuður*. I went online and listened to the English version. When hearing it, it became clear to me that the news report had some extensive ring of truth to it. In fact the music was almost exactly like the music to Söknuður. Furthermore I compared the text with the original and I found out that though the text itself is not a direct translation, the spirit of the original text, the intake itself is an obvious copy/paste, ... and a sloppy copy/paste at that! For instance the most emphasized part is “you raise me up to more then I can be” ... is a circumscribed wording of the last part of the first verse in Icelandic mish-mashidly translated by Your’s Truly as “if you were beside me, I would (gladly) become a better man.”

All in all, Josh Groban’s music performance was as stolen as a song can get. The most striking realization of that hit me when I heard a symphonic version for the prelude with the violins and the vocal emphasis that were almost exactly down to the minute detail of it with the exception of slight skipping of a couple of notes.

You can listen here to the song Söknuður performed by Vilhjalmur.

Concerning the song Söknuður, it is relevant to know that Vilhjalmur wrote the song in memory of a very dear friend of his. He needed a music for his lyric and asked Jóhann Helgason to compose it. With a very short notice Johann did a splendid composition and shortly thereafter Vilhjalmur sang his song during the private interment of his dear late friend. Söknuður was later pressed on his second solo album „Hana nú“ in the year 1977, see photo above (a CD release in 2001). Up until that time Vilhjalmur was not known for singing his own works, though it became quite clear with Söknuður that he did not only have a beautiful voice with a greater potential still, but he also was in fact a truly fantastic text writer. One year later another record was published, this time with his own texts to music composed by various other artists. Few days after that record was released the greatest bloodtake in the Icelandic music scene came to the fore when Vilhjalmur died in a horrible automobile accident in Luxembourg on the 28th of March 1978 at the young age of only 33 while being shuttled to a commercial airplane for Loftleidir, but he was a commercial pilot for the company. He often sang with his renowned sister Elly Vilhjalmsdottir, who also was a musical performer and had been singing professionally for years before her little brother Vilhjalmur was ushered up onto the stage with a microphone in hand. His seasoned sister withdrew herself little by little from the spotlight and focused instead on her family.

So back on track to the issue at hand:
Though the song “You raise me up” is performed by Josh Groban, those taking credit for ‘composing’ both the text and the music to the song are two, namely; the reputable Brendan Graham, and one Norwegian by the name of Rolf Løvland who incidentally is reputed to be very familiar with Icelandic music. In the following link you can see and hear Rolf Løvland with a stiff upper lip grin taking the credit before playing ‘his’ piece on the piano on stage during a Westlife performance of the aforementioned song. As for them taking credit in writing, a proof of that can be found right here!

As a trivia of information for those who are not versed in the Icelandic music scene of the pre-punk era, I should mention that Vilhjalmur Vilhjalmsson, and his sister Eldey Elly Vilhjalmsdottir, were one of Iceland’s most beloved musical performers in the late 60’s and 70’s.

Drawing to a close
Please do excuse my language but I firmly hope that Jóhann Helgason, the real author of the music to You raise me up, will successfully litigate this publicly, furthest up the arses of Brendan Graham and Rolf Løvland and the publishers of Josh Groban who have been abit too much ‘inspired’ for their own good by signing themselves as authors and owners of the rights to the above mentioned music piece. This I have to watch closely how this whole affair pans out.
The Evil baron has steamed off!

*Icelandic Musician Sues Josh Groban a news report on Icelandic-Review-Online; 07/02/2007 | 11:58 GMT

P.s. Brynjar, ... ’appy birthday you dormant rascal!

Long time no scribble!

While tending to one of my photo albums and it's contingent cinematic materials I came across this truly amazing video. Watching it reminded me of people I've gotten to know throughout my life that have had various limitation to their existence, whether it be; physical, mental, cognitive, perceptional or communicative. This video also reminded me of the respect they truly deserve. In all regards the ruling majority of society has in general placed them on a different pedestal. Handing them lower cards to play out their lives with, then with the ones the rest of us are handed, us who are considered healthy in all aspects. Getting to know people who have these very much so challenging limitations and seeing how they learned to deal with their everyday lives has not only taught me something and given me new viewports on life but further deepened my respect for them, more so then for people that generally do not have any obvious 'real' limiting predicaments to deal with. Therefore I will share some experiences with you of few of the people who I've gotten to know abit:

First person of inspiration: Some years ago while earning capital for my collage and university costs I worked for the inventory of the State Telecommunication Department. There I worked in a team of somewhat colourful bunch of guys who all happened to be Scorpios. Be it because they were all born in the same astrological sign or by wild change of fate but they all emitted in consensus the Scorpio spirit to such a degree that the person who had my job before me just couldn't take it, and had to be replaced after a couple of weeks. So there I was, the newbie on the floor, and as soon as I stepped into the work environment I became the butt-end of the local staff-culture. The initiation process started right away and I wasn't even aware of it until it was over, but I credit my star graced stubbornness to have gotten me through it. The leading prankster and the most cerebral of them was in charge of postal communications within the building. He limped abit and couldn't use his left arm. He also had to lift his left foot up a little with his hip when he walked. Furthermore his verbal communications were sometimes quite paused and strained from time to time when his ‘bodyworks’ had to process his thoughts into speaking patterns. After the initiation period was over they told me about my predecessor and welcomed me as one of the team. The silliness and light pranks never ceased of course. Once though I did the mistake of "getting back" at him for a prank he played on me earlier that day. I had rolled up a paper into a long cylinder and ‘clicked’ on the backside of his head as I passed him by, hurrying myself out before he could throw something at me. In a blink of an eye he became VERY angry and shouted at me to “NEVER EVER DO THAT!” To say the least, I was somewhat surprised by this very overblown reaction in comparison to what he had played on me a short time before. Almost as quickly as he ‘snapped’ he calmed down and told me, “I realize that you don't know, so I will tell you that my head is off limits!” So he spilled the beans why. The reason turned out to be that when he was a kid his friend had been showing off with his father's gun/rifle and had pointed it at him. He doesen't remember anything of what happened or several days prior to that but he was told that he had grabbed the barrel pulling it away from his face. The effect was that a shot went off clean through the right side of his head. Unwittingly I had ‘clicked’ him exactly on the spot where the exit wound had been but was no only covered by his scalp that sheltered his cerebral cortex within. So in short he became quite handicapped after the accident and the left side of his body became paralyzed to a certain extend. He showed me in detail where the no-bone zone was. He was very lucky to have survived a head shot like that and the two main reasons were; firstly how quickly he was rushed to medical care and secondly how qualified his cerebral neurologist surgeon at the hospital actually was. My former workmate is very intelligent and speaks more then a few languages; Danish, Swedish, German, French, (Icelandic and English go without saying). To get a driver's license he had to fight the system to both be allowed to drive a stick and also to be allowed to drive alone, (he had to prove to them that he knew beforehand when he would get epileptic seizures, an after effect of the shot). I have to point out that he likes to drive very fast and decisively. It is quite admirable how quick he is to turn gears and steer in very rough circumstances like when turning in havoc traffic, all with one hand and one foot.

When I confronted the other Scorpios why they hadn't told me this unspoken rule, they laughingly explained to me that they didn't tell me so they would have a change of witnessing him short-fusing on the latest newbie, and hence laughing their heads off. They admitted that they were surprised at how long it took me to play a proper prank on him that would have the effect of polarizing his temper.

Not only did he point out to me that “why use both hands to do something when one hand suffices?!” but he also taught me the that though almost half of you're body does not work properly, you still can live a normal life, ... even after surviving something on par with his experience! He seems to have been quite interested in politics and news in general since some years ago he flew off to Canada to get his masters in something called international media studies, or the alike.

Second persons of inspiration: My secondary school is a very inclusive school. People with various disabilities can attend the school (though the facilities are not really up to standards for invalid individuals).
When I was taking my student's science degree there were three fine lads that were deaf attending some of the classes I took. So for a few years I got used to speaking, or so to speak, to deaf people. Talking to them rather than at their gesticulating translator. When the translators weren't available I got used to get by by getting somewhat familiar to their communication methods, learning the gestures they used for our teachers who were renamed in sign by some common quirk each of our teachers had. Little by little one got familiar enough to realize who or what they were talking about and being able to communicate back for they could all read lips. One of them lives close by me today and I bump into him from time to time, often with his hearing daughter who's first language is not Icelandic but Icelandic-sign. Well, if I don't understand something he just flips his cellular with a build in keyboard and writes it in common text. These fellow students taught me that though we aren't fully apt in each others languages then it is no excuse not to communicate.

Third person of inspiration: Another student in my secondary I got to know abit is extremely spastic and has no fine motor skills. He has to go by crutches and wheelchair after he has gotten out of his car that is fully rigged to accommodate his disability. He always ate at the faculty canteen where the service was/is of a much higher standard then for the common students. At the faculty canteen he often played chess with the faculty during long brakes. Few have bested him in that conservative and cognitive game. The trouble he has to go through just getting about, shopping, attending meetings, studying. He taught me how grateful I should be of not having to deal with; impaired speaking abilities, limited balance and not having the ability to do fine little tentative things like punching these keys quickly and surely into text such at this.

Forth person of inspiration: My modest aunt who was broken down in early teenhood never to recover. She is so kind, kindest person I've ever gotten to know. People and 'professionals' label her as cognitively challenged. Interestingly enough I've never met anyone who has surpassed her über-sharp memory. If it concerns; marine life, weather of every day all the way back to her earliest childhood from the time she remembers herself, significant days of every member of the family down to the minute of their birth, then she will remember it. She is the family's walking dictaphone and encyclopedia and keeps my grandmother company in her forgetful autumn years. My aunt taught me the value of a promise and to respect it. Sadly I take my aunt for granted.

Fifth person of inspiration: Some years ago I got to know a blind person. ... (writing pending).

Sixth person of inspiration: A friend of mine who was a trained rescue squad volunteer and a very experienced mountaineer who thoughtfully took on the most intimidating mountain ranges in various continents of the world had a horrible accident of neglect. During the first year of his MD studies he went on his first ice climb. A planned group excursion catered for newbies in ice climbing on the seemingly easy but very sly mountain signature of Reykjavik, Mt. Esja. He and his friend were careful on the ice climb so careful in fact that they were the last ones up onto the mountain plateau. They saw the last persons in front of them disappear over the cliff's edge they still had to reach. Once there they didn't see anyone from their group, in fact no persons in sight at all. Years of training told them to stay on the same spot and wait until their group would search for them and then it was best to not have wandered off. Sadly their group had totally forgotten them. They were exposed to the elements in the high of Icelandic nature in the midst of winter for hours on end. When night settled in they got comfortable to the best of their abilities always waiting for them to be rescued. Next morning they woke up and did some exercises to get the blood flowing again, something they should not have done with too much bravado. My friend collapsed. His friend got his unconscious body sheltered as best as he could and then ran panic stricken down the whole of the mountain in what I would imagine to be a Ültra Down Hill run to call for help. Two weeks later my friend woke up in a hospital his life changed forever, his friend had managed to safe him. Sadly my friend could not follow his father's footsteps and get on with his MD-studies. But he kept his greatest gifts; his mind, intellect, sharp wittiness, humor, penmanship and inhuman stubbornness. His battle for recovery has been inspiring but the greatest faculty is his mental stamina that has just been truly awesome. Today his speech is all but gone, fine motor skills very limited, balance recovered enough to keep a good balance on bicycles, muscles somewhat diminished and swallowing of edibles and fluids extremely difficult. On first impression people often think he is cognitively challenged and too often talk at him rather then to him. Sometimes even refer to him in second person singular to the person who happens to stand next to him, rather then to talk straight to him like an equal. That I consider much much worse to talk ‘to’ him like that, like he wasn't even there or couldn't understand. That is the worst form of ignorance and social inaptness of adults that I have witnessed, and that happens way too often. My friend's cognitive proves is of very high standard, if not intimidating sometimes. His skills for the written word is very difficult to surpass (and in Iceland that is extremely impressive considering the pinnacle level the literary culture here is at). When I have difficulty with my English I ask him for suggestions and corrections. He likes to ride bicycles, has various models of them from classic diamond frames to recumbents and trikes even, all designed for 'normal' persons. All his cycle enthusiasm improves his balance and practices the different muscle sets of his body. On his self powered metal horses along with his stubborn mindset, physical toughness, knowhow, patience, endurance and contraptions he commutes within the capital area of Iceland. Not all that uncommon that he gives drivers, who show lack of commute etiquette (especially those that cut him off) and professionals responsible for badly conceived motorworks implementations, The Finger, ... both literally and literally for his newspaper articles are published. If further dues are justified he pays them back in kind by other means in the spirit of Direct Action. Furthermore he goes solo touring all around Iceland and abroad with all the necessary equipment. He doesn't ask for help, he doesn't care for help, he doesn't even want help. If people stoop over trying to help him, he does his best to wave the would be Samaritans off, since it would probably take more time explaining what has to be done rather then just getting on with it. His mechanical skills are considerable and if he can solve the immediate problem, he does it himself, even if it takes more time. My friend is so self sufficient that he can sleep out in a tent in Iceland's wild in every weather imaginable, if he so bothers. He is truly hardcore! If he has the equipment he can do it! He showed me the spirit of mental stamina and rock solid stubbornness.

Reigning the stories in to make a point:
All those people I wrote about have overcome their limitations to impressive levels, they truly deserve respect. So back to the video that reminded me of those very special individuals.

You are about to see twentyone deaf dancers performing a synchronized dance. So as you watch this video think of the hurdles in their lives these dancers have had to overcome to reach this level of professionalism and recognition, and that in the very field that limits them by their handicap.
Contemplate also all of the pre concieved ideas and attitudes society has hindered them with. Not many in their right mind would think deaf people could dance or to keep rhythm, ... and not only be able to do it but master it as professionals! Though they can feel the music vibrations their coordination is due in large part to hidden conductors, like those we find familiar conducting choirs and symphonies. This group of deaf dancers performed at the closing ceremony in the Paralympics in Athens 2004. Without further due here is The China Disabled People's Performing Art Troupe. Be amazed and drop your jaw!

8. of July. Saturday. Big Nicks birthday bash. Started by bashing up the whole kitchen to make space for a new kitchen installation. Keeth, Karla, Christian and Egons all made their contribution. Karla and Christian took me for the housewarming party of Robert and Nolan. Once there I recognized imidietly the "Pirate of the Carabien" siluette of Robert from Karla & Christian's wedding. Everything clicked into place, ... until abit later it was anounced that this was really a wedding! Celebiant and all later they were hitched.The first surprice wedding that I've been in ever. Alot of bubblies later we drove off and had in the interrim missed Big Nicks birthday invite on the Belgium bar premisis.

hic!

5. July. Wednesday. Beautiful day here in Sydney. Really sorry to miss the great weather and sit at the domestic airport waiting to board my plane in a few minutes back to Brisbane. Have to run to the Miss Loo & Poop, ... !

20. June, Tuesday, ... in New Zealand. (customs and free duty adventures at Brisbane airport: details pending!) Landed in Christchurch and reset my time to two hours in advance to the standard Kiwi time, but that is excactly twelve hours ahead of the Icelandic time (GMT). (Got through Kiwi Customs: detail pending)Egons went straight to the information boot for commute and accomidation and asked for direction to a good hotel of reasenable and pricing. The handsome chap recomended a hotel at the end of the airport carpark. Walked out into the carpark and finally we found painted footprints thd led towards some buildings in the distance. Nice way of grabbing custemers to get them into the hotel. Found the walked into the first hotel by the airport. After settling in to the rather sad looking hotel we had a walkabout mission to find an ATM machine and after alot of walking. On our way we walked by a string of roadside hotels and there we had a much better deal and everything with a kithenette and more space for a lot less and also a shuttle service. Egons spoke words of love and travel directed at the chap in the commute and information both at the Christchurch airport.
Finally we found an ATM and bought heaps of edibles to cook and stuff. Tried some chocklate drinks and a mushroom meatpie.
Went back to the hotel by taxi and settled in. Egons went straight into his pulp of adventures and magic while I tryed my outmost to watch kiwi telly to listen to the accent and relish my eyes on the occaisional Kiwi advert. Being fair I had the habit of lowering the volume and got into a silent remote control dispute with Egons where he kept raising the volume, seemingly reading the pulp and adoring the peculiar Kiwi accent. Finally there was to much sports and trash on the telly so I said to Egons "should I set the alarm to 06:30? "Yeb!" was the anwser so I set my cellular and went to sleep.

20. of June. Tuesday - part 1: It's 05:35 here in Burbank in Brisbane, (19:35 Monday in Iceland). Soon I'l depart to the airport in the next hour and fly off to Christchurch in the South Island of New Zealand. Thougts of Iceland come to mind, Julie, Kate and Tessa. Friends of hugs, mission of clousure.

Breakfast is ready :o)

12. May: My soul sister Karla and her mate Christian get them selfes hitched bigtime. See photos!

(writing in progress)