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Since the turn of this young century there have been few albums that have been showered with as much praise as Sigur Rós' 2000 release, Ágætis Byrjun (a good beginning), an album filled with epic sonar scenery of glacial landscapes and the magic of the ghosts and mythology of their homeland, Iceland. The sound was as full as sound gets, had an energy and enthusiasm the likes that are rarely heard, and evoked strong emotions and colorful pictures. The band may have overstepped things when they claimed “we are simply gonna change music forever, and the way people think about music. And don't think we can't do it, we will,” but their big egos weren’t unwarranted, they introduced a new energy to a listless scene waking from the grunge-filled ‘90’s.
Track listing:
01
02
03
04
05
06
07
08
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So it’s no wonder when they mixed up their musical style on the 2002 release, ( ), that listeners had mixed emotions. And to top the confusion off, the band released this mysteriously titled album with no track names and twelve - that’s right - twelve blank pages of liner notes. So those who remembered their grandiose claim slapped the “pretentious” label on it immediately. However, I like to think that they might be making a statement that the music is all that matters, and they’d like for people to take their own interpretations from it. And the lack of lyrics (except for a few syllables in the band’s made-up language, “Hopelandish”) makes it easy to do this, leaving you with the music and your imagination alone. Plus, I have a hard time calling something “pretentious” when it’s actually really good. And this is.
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Sigur Rós took a less epic approach on ( ), and delivered a more minimalist poison. Gone are the layers upon layers of rich sounds of Ágætis Byrjun, but make no bones about it, the energy and emotion are still there, there in its rawness. There are two sides to this story, the upbeat sounds and constant flow in the first half if ( ), and the darker, Dark Side of the Moon-esque, contemplative side. I say “contemplative” to refer to the last four tracks, but the first four are just as much so in their own way, in the way that I get lost in the music. It’s almost meditative, the music’s ability to draw the listener in so well.
The album starts with a beautifully sad piano and organ duet, soon accompanied by haunting meanderings of the band’s signature bowed guitar and Jónsi Birgisson's voice, a voice like none other, more instrumental than vocal with its high-pitched careening. The melancholy tone continues in track two, a song that introduces some distortion and fuzz overlapping Sigur Rós' familiar whale-song-ish sounds. In the third track the mood lightens as the song slowly swells and entices you into a dream with repeated keyboard chords rising and falling over a sparse, magical icy landscape, the perfect lead-in for what may the the most anticipated track, that song from Vanilla Sky. Track four, or "Njósnavélin" (The Nothing Son), contains the most vocals, here Birgisson's voice overlaps twinkling keyboards and lush guitar and organ, and it doesn’t even matter that the lyrics are in the undecipherable “Hopelandish,” the feeling’s there. Something decipherable, something tangible, would probably ruin the wonderful mystery this song conveys.
Then there’s the second side, where the tone is darker and the sounds from the previous four stretched out. It’s slow, but never lethargic, it still contains that intensity that Sigur Rós develops so well. These are definitely mood pieces, but when you get in the mood, they can be very rewarding in their own right. Track eight takes you full circle back to the beginning with more upbeat guitars and explosive percussion, and this is the way the album ends: not with a bang, but with a whole damn fireworks show. ( ) is an entirely different beast from Ágætis Byrjun, but no different in quality. The imagery of magical Norse mythology and sparse landscapes remains, as does the mystery and emotion that run deep beneath the iceberg.
-Jennifer Hall 04/30/04
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