On thinking of Iceland, the first things that might have sprung to mind a few years ago may have been, in no particular order, hot springs, Bjork, geysers, sheep, maybe some more sheep, and possibly a few more geysers. And of course, the fact it was apparently one of the richest, happiest, greenest and most creatively vibrant countries in the world. Now, however, it’s more likely that any conversation that turns to the stunning land of ice and snow is understandably monopolised by talk of the economic collapse. So it was heartening to attend the third annual You Are In Control digital and music conference to see how, the creative sector at least, is looking forward with a dynamic positivity to the future.

It reminded us to rise above lamenting the decline of the record shop, the zine, analog expression, the rise of social networking or the changes that are befalling the music industry, and how musicians can expect to make things work. We need to adapt to survive, and embrace the changes and make them work for us, be lifted by them, as opposed to paralysed or isolated by them.

Director Anna Hildur, a true force within Reykjavik’s ever-sparkling arts scene, admitted she was unsure whether, this year, Iceland would be able to afford to put on such an event, but was assured by mobile entertainment guru and conference speaker Ralph Simon that Iceland ‘could not afford not to’ showcase its gifts at a time like this. Indeed, the event, held at Reykjavik’s Hilton Nordica to coincide with the music festival Rettir as well as the Reykjavik International Film Festival, pin-pointed ways that music and musicians could move forward, using the digital revolution to their advantage. It reminded us to rise above lamenting the decline of the record shop, the zine, analog expression, the rise of social networking or the changes that are befalling the music industry, and how musicians can expect to make things work. We need to adapt to survive, and embrace the changes and make them work for us, be lifted by them, as opposed to paralysed or isolated by them.

We were eased into the proceedings with a mesmerising set from Rokkurro, a Reykjavik group, who, like many Icelandic groups, reflect their unique environment in their dark but soft, haunting sound, immediately casting a spell over a room of suited delegates and conjuring up images of pastel skies, treeless lunar horizons, perfect rainbows and strange creeping mists. Reverb-saturated guitar sounds a la Sigur Ros merged with the celestial vocals of the singer, who also played cello. Strings are everywhere in Icelandic popular music, it seems, and I was assured by one gig-goer that he was off to see a group which featured the ‘best hip hop cellist in Iceland’. I asked how many hip hop cellists there actually are in Iceland, but he assured me there were quite a few.

What could follow Rokkurro better than a slice of uber-kitsch Italian 70s disco? I know that’s what you were probably thinking. Well, you’ll be pleased to know that that is exactly what followed Rokkurro — after an uplifting speech from the Icelandic Minister of Culture Katrin Jakobsdottir, Paul Bennett, the inspirational creative director of design consultancy Ideo kicked things off with a Youtube clip — Prisencolinensinainciusol — Adriano Celentano and a troupe of mad disco dancers in cat-suits. I’d never been to a conference before but I was expecting projections of pie-charts, so this was a pleasant surprise. Both Jakobsdottir and Bennett set the tone of the entire event with positivity in the face of the economic climate, making the point that despite the title of the conference, the key to moving forward was to let go of our idea of control, ‘unclench’, urged Paul with a cheeky twinkle, and be less individualistic in our approach.

The way we listen to music has changed, therefore music, and musicians can’t be blind to that. Bennett declared that the culture of ‘immersion’ has gone, people don’t listen to albums all the way through as much as they used to, they want everything in soundbites, which can be a disheartening thought. Or it can be an exciting thought if we work with it, use a bit of Darwinian joined-up thinking and use the changes to evolve. The fact is the artists, at least, are not in control, ie. they can’t ‘control’ the consumer’s experience any more. We as consumers cherry-pick tracks on iTunes as opposed to investing in a whole album. Or if we do buy a whole album, we can preview the tracks, there’s no mystery any more, no trust. We are expecting more and more for free, there are less reasons for us to leave the comfort of our home when we can technically ‘attend’ a live gig thanks to streaming. But there are pluses and minuses. And as life becomes more complex, the best solutions remain the simple ones. Guðjón Már Guðjónsson, from Iceland’s Ministry of Ideas, reminded us how, when the US prepared to send the first man into space, American scientists spent millions producing a ‘space pen’ so astronauts could write despite gravity’s effects. Then Russia piped up and said, ‘Why not take a pencil?’ In Iceland, he said, the urgency of the current situation is creating opportunities for change, and for a tiny country (300,000 people), creatively and otherwise, they have a reputation for thinking big, which may be a saving grace. YAIC drew together some cutting edge movers, shakers and thinkers and I strongly advise you to check out You Are In Control’s twitter page for video clips and interviews from the two-day event. http://twitter.com/youareincontrol.

It was difficult to fit everything in during the short time I was there for the conference, there was so much to do and see – Icelanders of all ages seem to have an indefatigable energy to go to gig after gig after gig and still be fresh for a full day’s work the next day. Our trip commenced swimmingly (literally) as we were whisked to the milky and magnificent Blue Lagoon straight after our flight. All the delegates and speakers together, semi-naked, in a great big geothermal open-air bath. Quite an ice-breaker. Then it was off to Reykjavik and dinner at its coolest bar, Boston, for some traditional fish stew (made by Bjork’s chef, I was assured). Throughout the conference we were reminded to check out music fest Rettir, the Reykjavik Round-up, which featured acts as diverse as Hanne Hukkelberg, Hjaltalin, Dr Spock, Mugison, Gus Gus and hypnotic highlight Olafur Arnalds who played a beautiful set – with lap-top and strings (of course) – at Nasa after groovily haircutted and highly talented young indie bucks For A Minor Reflection, who were accompanied by ‘Kilford – the music painter’, a man of studied rock-star persona who sees music in colours (but apparently doesn’t actually have synaesthesia). Nice concept anyway but the audience seemed divided between those were intrigued, those who totally bought the entire package with enthusiasm and those who felt … well… otherwise.

Rettir coincides with the time of year that the sheep are shepherded from the mountains (‘and so we are sheeping the musicians into the venues’ quipped Anna Hildur), and downturn be damned, the whole shebang was sold out. Árstíðir (Seasons) enchanted a silent, reverent crowd in the stunning, candle-lit Free Church, after a bluesy, often moving set by Icelandic acoustic guitar hero KK. There may have been a storm raging outside but the vocal harmonies (think Crosby Stills and Nash, Fleet Foxes) acoustic finger-picking, quite impassioned piano and, you guessed it, strings of Árstíðir were like shafts of sunlight. Seriously impressive and in the perfect setting. People of all ages were in attendance at all of the gigs I popped into, and the sense of respect for the artist was huge. One of my colleagues was immediately escorted out of an Olof Arnalds gig after indulging in a bit of heckling. Two others were glared at repeatedly for whispering almost imperceptibly at the Free Church gigs. (Actually I found the glaring more off-putting than the whispering). These people are serious about their music and nothing is about to ruin their experience of it.

Iceland may be a tiny country but there are not enough hours in the day or days in the week to take advantage of what’s going on there. None of us might be as in control as we may feel it necessary to be, but this trip has been a lesson in loosening our grip on the idea of control. And if Iceland’s courageous examples are anything to go by, contrary to how we may feel in this current climate of uncertainty, it’s a more important time than ever to open up, brush off our plumage and shine. It’s the only, and the best, way out.