Crucially, he also approached his new home with patience, respect, and genuine curiosity. Anderson speaks Icelandic, learnt by studying the language through the early 20th-century poets Jóhann Sigurjónsson and Hulda. “Old poetry gives you a particular perspective on language, a glimpse into the paths of language,” he tells me. “Each language has its own way of thinking.” 

Three of the seven tracks on Ironclad and Palm trees are sung in Icelandic, directly influenced by the poems. The lulling, optimism ‘Þá komst þú’ is inspired by Hulda’s ‘Mig dreymdi eitt sinn’, while ‘Báran’ is based on the words of Sigurjónsson’s poem of the same name. “It just matched what I wanted to say, matched the imagery about the sea and sunset, establishing a parallelism with a more personal and emotional connection,” Anderson says. Living in Iceland has also made him more contemplative and observant, “first because I didn’t know the language, you are listening and observing more than participating”.

This experience is acutely clear in tracks like “Foxglove”; which simply describes a scene over the rhythmic plucks of guitar strings and rolling percussion: “The pulling of the tides, The wind against the walls,The pulling of the tides,The swelling and the surge”, he sings, softly. 

“My songs are very much painting a picture, just because of what we have outside the window, the qualities of the country, the light, the atmosphere, the landscape,” Anderson says, gesturing to the window beside him.