Örvar Þóreyjarson Smárason sounds like he either suffering from an extremely heavy night out or he has the worst cold in history. His voice is deep, fogged out, almost-but-not-quite-yet croaky as the co-founder of quirky Icelandic group, Mum, surveys Manchester’s somewhat bleak and cold streets from a tour bus. It is 9.40am - unnaturally early for many musicians but Örvar is seemingly in a good mood. The group played the hip London club for alternative events, Scala, the night before and the gig went well. “I’m a not a big fan of playing in London,” he says. “Sometimes it can be difficult. It was a very good audience which is quite unusual for that city.”

It’s 10 years since Mum gently prodded its genuinely appealing experimental muse into the marketplace. Gentle vocals, predominantly female, odd beats and effects, more electronic than traditional instrumentation, more digital than real sound. Yet in all that unpredictability, there was always a firm melody. Something of beauty. Until now, their excellent fourth album, Go Go Smear The Poison Ivy, and it’s wonderfully titled first single They Made Frogs Smoke ‘Til They Exploded. Things have changed in Mum, you see. Singer Kristín Anna Valtýsdóttir left the band in 2006 following in the distant footsteps of her twin sister, Gyða, who left in 2002. The remaining duo, Örvar and Gunnar Örn Tynes, took the chance to break with tradition and bring in a bunch of new musicians including two singers, Mr Silla and Hildur Guðnadóttir.

The result is the first Mum album where instruments dominate over - or at least break even with - electronic sound, where the melodies play and even bigger part, where lyrics are written from a broader, less feminine perspective (although Örvar does disagree with this). It is a genuinely attractive and compelling album. “Very much so,” Örvar says. “It is probably one of the albums I am happiest with. I enjoyed the way it came out. When Kristín left we were joined by our friends in a much larger way [sic]. We worked very well together. We didn’t have alot of discussions. We just got on with it and saw what happened.

“We were more interested in where we could go. You say it is ‘more up’ and it probably is. We were happy to let the record and the music go its own way which is quite different from some of our records which, when we thought they were going in a ridiculous direction, we would stop what we were doing and go back to where we thought the record should be going. In the past recording often became a far heavier process. This was much lighter and happier.” And it shows.

As for the lyrics, Örvar doesn’t think there’s a fundamental difference. The band still uses the same way of writing, he says. Basically, the melodies drive the words. “Music comes first then lyrics. Sometimes you might have something scribbled on a piece of paper and of a sudden it makes sense,” Örvar says.

Not that he’s short of words; in the break between ‘Go Go Smear’ and the band’s 2004 album, Summer Make Good, Örvar published two books - one of drawings and another of poetry. He doesn’t make much fuss about it. Simply, it’s part of what he does. It’s the same kind of calm and modesty you get when talking to the members of Sigur Ros, arguably Iceland’s greatest group. Push any of them for an explanation and there is none. It’s just the way they are. And quite glissando of the music, and it’s equally surprising quirks or turns, reflect the fundamental physical nature of their country. Icelandic music feels Icelandic, evokes the land of light and dark extremes, of ice and flows and glaciers, and hot and cold. “Yes, the six months each of light and dark does effect you,” Örvar says. “There is no way it couldn’t. We do lots of working in the summertime and get filled up with energy and then when it is dark we stay in a lot and try and find things to do to pass the time.” Like go on tour. “Yes, well there is that. It lifts the spirits.”

Now, about that song, They Made Frogs Smoke ‘Til They Exploded … “Yes, well it has caused some confusion. It is about when as a kid you found a frog and put a cigarette in its mouth - once it exploded. It’s one of those disgusting things you do.”
Some kind of Mum.