This isn’t how a band interview typically goes.
The phone call is transferred from Iceage’s tour manager to one of its band members. In the background, the quartet could be heard deciding — until the very last minute — which one of them would take the interview. This isn’t unusual for the notoriously press-shy band, whose attitude has been part of its appeal from the beginning.
This go around, the call lands with drummer Dan Kjær Nielsen.
The Danish punk outfit is headed to Chicago’s House of Vans for a free show Thursday night as part of its summer house parties series, along with psych-rockers The Black Lips, Mary Lattimore and Torture Love. Since the May release of its fourth studio album, “Beyondless” — numerous media outlets have hailed the act as one of the best bands of the past decade. Noisey contributor, Zachary Lipez dubbed Iceage “the greatest rock and roll band in the world.”
Nielsen, along with singer Elias Bender Ronnenfelt, bassist Jakob Tvilling Pless and guitarist Johan Surrballe Wieth have been performing as Iceage since 2008 — when their ages averaged 17 years old. The foursome’s debut LP “New Brigade,” released in 2011, was a wild-eyed whoosh of punk — a collection of 12 tracks with enough hardcore clamor to make even the most jaded listener take note (for 24 minutes). But by 2014, with its third album “Plowing into the Field of Love,” the band had moved on from churning noise rock, embracing flourishes of psychedelia and even a bit of country.
“Beyondless” features its most expansive and complex music to date. Employing additional musicians: Nils Gröndhal on violin, horns by Kasper Tranberg (trumpet), Lars Greve (saxophones) and Morten Jessen (trombone) to capture a grander sound, layering jazz influences atop Iceage’s already-established brand of musical restlessness. Nielsen attributes much of its sprawling nature to the time taken between projects.
“Having a bit of a breather to come up with new ideas, allowing them to conjure themselves up, being a bit more experimental — whatever you want to call it, was just us letting ourselves be carried away more,” Nielsen explains. “We tried (adding horns) a little bit on the previous record, so we made this one with that in mind. We saved space in the songs, but before where it kind of sat on top, this time it’s organically incorporated within the songs themselves.”
While much of the act’s latest sonic explorations can be attributed to American music’s influence, Nielsen doesn’t see Iceage becoming “Americanized” after spending so much time in the U.S. over the past few years. If anything, he argues, the band isn’t much different than it was a decade ago — just evolved.
“We’re not taking anything away in order to find a new approach,” he says. “It’s a new expression, but I wouldn’t say our tastes have changed.”
From the outside looking in, Iceage feels miles away from its 2011 introduction. Early write-ups of its live performances often included references to thrashing and bloodshed, gigs shut down by police; singer Ronnenfelt staggering through the crowd to leave the stage. Now, there’s an undeniable, rock ’n’ roll cabaret feel to its stage presence and antics. Its whirlwind of rage and catharsis had been replaced with theatrical showmanship — its front man still often throwing his body about, directing the crowd — arms extended over it like he’s casting a spell rather than inciting chaos.
“It’s definitely a spectacle,” Nielsen says through an audible smile.
Part of that spectacle is due, in part, to much of the legend that already surrounds the young outfit. Punk veterans Iggy Pop and Richard Hell have praised the band for its ability to successfully capture a certain darkness musically and lyrically — to still sound dangerous. Hell even wrote an essay that accompanied “Beyondless” upon its release.
Politics, as with most punk acts, have wormed their way into the band’s lore. Early on, Iceage was accused of flirting with Nazi imagery and appropriating aesthetics of fascism. While those arguments have widely been put to rest — Ronnenfelt particularly has been vocal about being disturbed by the rise of far-right nationalism in Europe and America — lyrically, the band attacks ideas of authoritarianism; condemning those abusing their power as heard on tracks like “Hurrah,” “Thieves Like Us” and “Plead the Fifth.”
But Nielsen insists the band has no political identity on its agenda, nor is it limiting itself to expectations of punk — as a genre and as an ideology.
“It’s more humane and observing — that sort of thing. Our music isn’t about politics, but we all have those views personally. It’s about a lot of things. Some of it may paint a picture of what we think of the state of the world, but we try not to press ideas or accuse anyone.
“You can’t think about (other people’s expectations or reaction) when you’re creating something,” he continues. “It’s the whole idea of expressing something personal — you can’t do it for anyone else but yourself. We try to pay as little attention as possible to stuff like that.”
The band sees its music as an extension of energies and each member’s is its own obvious force. Apart from the hype that surrounds it, Iceage still only has one thing on its mind — capturing a sense of urgency.
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When: 6:30 p.m. Thursday
Where: House of Vans, 113 N. Elizabeth St.
Tickets: Free with RSVP; www.vans.com
