This reminds me discussions such as Jack Antonoff’s association with New Jersey.
Left unadorned, Mr. Antonoff’s songs would join the hearty broad-stroke school of songwriting of his New Jersey predecessors Bruce Springsteen and Bon Jovi, with their four-chord choruses and whoa-oh invitations to join in.
The question I wonder though is whether all music is associated with space. For example, is Trent Reznor’s work the product of being bored Pennsylvania:
You grew up in Mercer, Pa. Was that a part of the state with the “weirdo culture” the Midwest is famous for? One could make an argument. There weren’t a lot of things to distract you, so you’d end up turning inward. I can’t help but think about that lack of access. The side effect was that when you could get something, whether it be an album or a magazine that looked like a portal into a new world, you pored over it, because it wasn’t one Google search away all the time. I think I turned out the way I did because I was so bored.
Sometimes such spaces are nostalgic and slightly concocted, as with Antonoff’s re-creation of his childhood bedroom.
For “Gone Now,” that meant executing his most quixotic idea to date: removing his teenage bedroom — where he lived until he was 27 — from his parents’ home, replicating it exactly in a trailer and taking it on tour.
Kevin Parker pushes back on the idea of place and music.
At the end of the day, geography shouldn’t have anything to do with it. I have never consciously been aware of it. You know like so much of the music I started making I made in like my bedroom in a really dirty share house.
What is interesting though is that although Parker’s music may not necessarily be influenced by space, it is still a product of place.
In Perth there was a bunch of us, but there weren’t that many people. We made tons of bands out of it, so like 10 people when there’d be like six bands with different combinations.
As a side note, I still think that nothing captures Iceland like Sigor Ros: