Sigur Ros’ seventh studio album, Kveikur (XL Records), returns the Icelandic band to a
sound more reminiscent of their native landscape: beautiful, barren, and rocky.
The album retains some of the watery electronics prevalent on Valtari,
their 2012 release, but harkens back to the chimes, post-rock guitar, and
traditional beats on Takk (2005) and Með suð í
eyrum við spilum endalaust (2008).
I saw
Sigur Ros perform at Bonnaroo in 2008, the first year they toured with a
fucking marching band. It was outrageous (white and red suits and instruments),
mind-blowing (the level of professionalism on so many instruments), absolutely
the most thrilling concert I’ve seen (though I was hopping up and down like
kernel to witness the ever-changing set). And it was a concert—like watching Led Zeppelin or the New York Philharmonic. The
sun was setting, the energy was enormous, the crowd was full of psychedelics
(and probably void of any real food), and the sound was enrapturing! It was an “experience;”
after which, oddly enough, I stopped listening to the band. As if Sigur Ros
music exploded and I couldn’t possibly put the pieces back together. The same pieces, I think, the band compiles every album out of. As if the
music exploded for them too. Kveikur is a variation
on a theme—gorgeous and unusual, but I just don’t like doing the same puzzle (a
castle in the clouds; a seaside view with lighthouse; a flock of Escher-birds;
some faeries in a magical garden) over and over again.
The
thing is, I love this album, just like I love a puzzle when I’m in the mood. It
incorporates a few different elements, but mostly it infuses the Sigur Ros style
I like the best (rock) into the fantasy. Starting off with a heavy chain of a
song ("Brenniseinn"), the album drags slowly over a medieval landscape. Fanfare
and horns (in "Hrafntinna") lower down the promise of something Sigur Ros-traditional
and fun ("Isjaki"). The title track is
one of the most exciting Sigur Ros songs I’ve heard in a while, because it
unleashes a level of noise (bordering on punk rock) I had come to not-expect. And
the final track, "Var," is like waking up from a nap to discover we’re a
character, stolen and placed in a high tower (that damn castle again).
I guess we’ll have
to wait until Sigur Ros releases their next album to find out if the dragon is
slayed, or—the pattern indicates it’s the more likely outcome—the dragon
extracts us, hair blowing like a waterfall, and carries us away to another
pretty place.
Grade: B
Grade: B
Good review.
My own review turned up on their site's tweet page, which I had no idea even existed until my blog got a hit from it :p I was led to your own review, and enjoyed it muchely. You lucky thing, seeing them live. Ive not had the pleasure yet, but I'll be damned if I miss them in London later this year.
Take care. Raishimi.