Mugison
Mugiboogie
(Ipecac Recordings)

For the last few decades, the Icelandic music scene has been fertile ground for genre-defying, ethereal artistry. But in terms of honest-to-goodness eclecticism, no Icelander—Björk and Sigur Rós included—holds a candle to Mugison (aka Örn Elías Guðmundsson).

On his fourth album, Mugiboogie (released in Iceland in 2007 and hitting the US on July 22), the singer/songwriter packs a bewildering amount of genre explorations into 12 songs—only one of which passes the six-minute mark. From whispering, romantic folk to churning goth metal, epochal R&B, sexually charged rock ’n’ roll, haunting country balladry, stripped acoustic blues, and maniacal thrash, this record is so magnificently all over the place, you’ll be constantly checking your iPod to make sure it’s not on shuffle.

While Mugison’s ambitions are impressive in and of themselves, if he couldn’t pull off these perpetual costume changes, Mugiboogie would be little more than a footnote. Luckily for listeners, this guy’s not just a great songwriter; he’s clearly listened to tons of records and has a deep love for each of these genres. There’s no other explanation for his ability to nail so many musical formats in one recording session. Granted, he does some things better than others—the keep-it-simple stuff is the artist’s forte, made especially clear in the solo acoustic cut “The Pathetic Anthem,” which is reminiscent of everything great about pre-Odelay Beck. The heavier material provides some thrilling surprises on first listen—check the transition between the gorgeous, string-laden ballad “Deep Breathing” and the industrial grindcore of “I’m Alright”—but it becomes relatively skippable once the novelty wears off.

Not so say there aren’t some lushly produced gems on Mugiboogie. “Jesus Is a Good Name to Moan” is a stomping rocker with a swirling, organ-fueled chorus that tips its cap to The Beatles’ “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” and lyrics that would fit snugly on a Leonard Cohen album. The ghostly country tune “George Harrison” sympathizes with the Quiet One’s spiritual quest, featuring some of the record’s most effective vocal harmonies. And the closing song, the smoldering R&B workout “Sweetest Melody,” finds Mugison practically screaming, beseeching God to save him over a trembling gospel organ, clattering drums and wailing guitars.

If you’re the type of person who craves the unexpected, who looks forward to the next shock— a horror movie buff, perhaps—then look up this Mugison fellow. He could be the closest thing we’ve got to a musical James Whale.

—joe sweeney