Filling up a whole stage all by your lonesome can prove a difficult task, but it’s one that Ólöf Arnalds was mostly up to last night at the Roseland Theater. The Icelandic singer-song writer and member of Múm strummed and picked through a beautiful set that was witnessed with subdued appreciation and closed-eyed-swaying by the audience. At 9 pm sharp, Arnalds took the stage, adorned in old school fashions like bright red lip stick and blindingly blonde hair, and cloaked in a Blue-White light that illuminated her from every angle.

Ólöf Arnalds is neither a show off, nor particularly shy, and her silly mid-show asides, complete with adorably broken (though fluent) english pronunciations like ‘Blissert’ in place of ‘Blizzard,’ worked wonders to liven her mellow set. Arnalds even took the occasional time-out to explain the meanings of her Icelandic tunes, describing Innundir Skinni standout, ‘Vinkonur,’ as a tribute to her four best friends back home. Though the Roseland may be frequently looked down upon by us Portlanders, the simple pairing of Arnald’s sharp, wobbling voice and gorgeous guitar accompaniment sounded just as simple and clear as on her studio recordings.

The big surprise of the night was Arnald’s love of covers, ranging from Hank Williams (Please Don’t Let Me Love You) to Gene Clark (With Tomorrow) to the Boss himself (I’m On Fire). Though the changes were subtle, Arnald’s face would change with each new song like a stage actress entering a new scene, complete with the endearing tick of shrinking to the sound of applause with a nervous smile on her face. Arnald’s stayed remarkably stationary, fixed to the center of the stage, only ever putting down her trusty guitar to produce a Charango, a small, spanish string instrument with a high, banjo-like sound, and a dried Armadillo shell for its back.

Arnalds played for about forty minutes before taking a bow, and walking of stage with one instrument in either hand. For the next half hour, fog machines worked at full blast, almost concealing the stage before Blonde Redhead had even made their appearance. The band’s stage set-up looked brilliant, light bulbs that flicked orange light flicked near the front of the stage as the back wall was fully covered by up-turned shining, golden umbrellas.

Those for whom Ólöf Arnalds’ set might have been a bit to quite found their consolation here, as the band’s blisteringly loud beat machine wrapped around harmonic tinkerings from twin keyboard players. Vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Kazu Makino entered the stage wearing a strange white mask and proceeded to sing the whole first song before revealing her face. It was a night for the band’s newest album, Penny Sparkle, to the simultaneous joy and chagrin of various audience members. But while Blonde Redhead certainly did not disappoint, the artist to watch last night was Arnalds, whose delicate ballads might just find their way into the ears of more adoring listeners yet.