Bríet: With Her Heart in Esja and Her Eyes on Nashville
From jazz bars to Spotify charts, Iceland’s genre-defying singer is rewriting the rules – and now, switching languages.
Photo: Maggi Gnúsari
Reading time: 5 minutes
It starts with a mountain. Not metaphorically. Literally. Bríet Ísis Elfar named her breakout single after Esja, Reykjavík’s silent guardian. The song became an anthem. So did she. Today, Bríet is one of the most talked-about artists in Iceland – a household name with a voice that shifts from sultry pop to aching balladry. She’s not just singing anymore. She’s building. A sound. A story. A universe. And now, she’s doing it in English.
From Reykjavík Basements to National Awards
Born in 1999, Bríet began performing at age 15 in jazz bars and off-venue gigs at Iceland Airwaves. By 17, she was releasing her first singles. At 21, she dropped her debut album Kveðja, Bríet ("Sincerely, Bríet") – a breakup record that broke every streaming record. Eight tracks hit Iceland’s Spotify Top 10.
It wasn’t just a hit – it was a cultural event. She swept the Icelandic Music Awards: Album of the Year, Singer of the Year, Lyricist of the Year. She was raw, stylish, and strikingly visual. She wasn't trying to be famous. She was just honest. And that made her unstoppable.
A Sound Without Borders
Bríet’s music refuses boxes.
Country ballad? Sure.
Synth-drenched soul? Yep.
An Icelandic cowboy heartbreak anthem with vintage visuals and feminist undertones? Done.
Her secret weapon: songwriting that balances poetic vulnerability with pop precision. And a voice that can whisper, soar, or crack on purpose. You can’t fake what she does.
She’s also deeply involved in the visual side of her work – often directing or art-directing her music videos and live visuals. There’s always a story behind the styling, always intention in the aesthetics.
Photo: from Bríets facebook
Why English, Why Now?
After conquering the local scene, Bríet didn’t rush abroad. In fact, she once said she was “grateful for not jumping on international offers too soon.” She wanted to build something solid first. Now, she’s ready.
In early 2025, Bríet began teasing her first all-English album. The first single, Blood On My Lips, was released May 21. On Instagram, she announced it simply with:
”🩸 Blood On My Lips. 21.05.25.”
No press release. No drama. Just blood-red typography, a cryptic caption, and the calm confidence of an artist in full control.
Her fans? Eating it up.
Bríet’s Story, In Her Own Stories
Bríet doesn’t over-explain. But she’s not distant either. Her Instagram stories are a chaotic blend of glam, humor, sincerity, and Esja energy.
She recently responded to fans asking about the album. One follower asked:
“Are you releasing a full album or just singles?”
Her reply? “Let’s see where it flows.”
That’s Bríet in one sentence: intuitive, unbothered, and allergic to hype.
She also hinted at new songs being previewed live – including a track tentatively titled “Cowboy Killer”, a nod to her earlier cowboy phase. Same boots. Different weapons.
Photo: Maggi Gnúsari
Photo: Maggi Gnúsari
The Global Shift
There’s a quiet momentum behind her now. She’s no longer just Iceland’s most exciting pop voice – she’s positioning herself as a rare international act who can offer more than trends.
Her upcoming album is still mostly under wraps. But if Blood On My Lips is any indication – dark, slow-burning, emotionally exact – we’re entering a new era of Bríet: sharper, broader, and still unmistakably her.
No press machine. No shock value. Just music. Just blood. Just truth.
She still walks up Esja. Still writes songs alone. Still answers DMs.
But Bríet is leaving the fjords – at least musically.
The mountain stays.
She moves.
1000 Words – When Music Becomes Cinema
Photo: Bríets Facebook
In 2024, Bríet and rapper Birnir did more than release a collaborative album – they made a film. 1000 Words, a visually stunning short directed by Erlendur Sveinsson, was selected as the Opening Film at the Reykjavík International Film Festival.
It’s not a music video. It’s not a promo reel. It’s cinema.
Shot on film with haunting cinematography by Anna Smoronova and a magnetic score by Magnús Jóhann Ragnarsson, 1000 Words captures the emotional weight of the album through movement, performance and subtle visual storytelling. Bríet and Birnir star as versions of themselves – lovers, fighters, ghosts – navigating a fractured relationship through poetic, fragmented vignettes.
The project was produced by Sensor, with an all-star Icelandic crew that includes production designer Melkorka Embla Hjartardóttir, colorist Marina Starke, and editor/steadicam operator Jónas Thorhallsson. The soundscape, crafted by Nicolas Liebing, brings the story to life – while Aðalheiður Halldórsdóttir’s choreography pushes the emotional tension into the body.
It’s a rare feat: turning an album into a narrative short without losing its rhythm. 1000 Words proves that Bríet isn’t just stepping into English – she’s stepping onto the cinematic stage, too.
