After spending the early hours of the morning between about 3am and 7am reading a book and listening to Sigur Rós in the background, I've come to the conclusion that they are one of the best, if not, the best band in the world. I've had the albums for ages, but this morning it just clicked with me perfectly. I used to think The Mars Volta were better, but after that mammoth listening session (listening to Takk, () and Ágætis Byrjun in succession) I don't think music gets much better than this. So I thought I'd educate all the people who've never heard of Sigur Rós, so that they will go and listen to them!
Firstly, who the hell are Sigur Rós?
Sigur rós were formed by jónsi, georg and the former drummer ágúst in 1994. The band consists of jón þor (jónsi) birgisson (vocals, guitars), kjartan (kjarri) sveinsson (keyboards), orri páll dýrason (drums) and georg (goggi) holm (bass). They create a remarkable sound considering the basic instruments used. Jónsi often uses a cello bow to play his guitar, resulting in an effects-laden, atmospheric, totally unique sound. His voice is probably the most unique thing about Sigur rós. A falsetto somewhere between thom yorke and a choir boy.
They have released three major albums, and have a few other bits and bobs including their first album aswell.
Their three masterpieces are:
Takk
This is probably the most uplifting and "happy" Sigur Rós album, and it truly is fantastic.
Many a critical evaluation of Icelandic quartet Sigur Ros has resorted to stock imagery of molten magma, omnipotent ice fields and burbling hot springs--and reasonably so. There's no disavowing the geophysical heartbeat which invigorates the very soul of this most supernatural of bands. Takk may well be Sigur Ros's most stimulating interpretation of their habitat yet--verdant serenity to pregnant anticipation to brutal paroxysms of volcanic thunder via icicle-like celestes, howling electrical winds of curving guitar feedback and hymns seemingly sung by castrato pixies.
Strange and overwhelmingly beautiful. Some may think of Sigur Ros as a permafrosted Pink Floyd (circa Zabriskie Point) and while it's facile to say as much it's an honour certainly worthy of them. There's a seamless, symphonic poetry to Takk where the exultant "Gong", the euphoric choristry of "Hoppipolla" (like the Beach boys turned into snowmen) and the National Geographic panoramas of "Glososli" blend with intuitive homogeneity. You'll wish you were here.
( )
This is a much darker affair, released in 2002, three years before Takk. It is still equally amazing however.
Anyone expecting Sigur Ros to have abandoned their emotional and majestic approach will think again after hearing the opening bars of their new album, ( ). When Sigur Ros released their second long player Agaetis Byrjun back in 1999, they caught everyone on the hop. Though it was pretty much the first anyone outside of their native Iceland had heard of them, the quartet had been studiously honing their sound for the last five years, developing a spellbinding mix of rock guitars scraped with violin bows, angelic falsetto vocals and dramatic builds of percussion fuelled tension that offered all the ineffable quietude of religious music.
( ) is a slightly rawer, undoubtedly heavier experience than its predecessor, but it still manages to shine a torch into the darkest corner of our souls, describing accurately the aching beauty and the hopeless anguish that makes up the contradictory essence of human existence. Experimental flourishes hark back to their eldritch debut album Von, and Jonsi's vocals-–which have devolved over two albums from Icelandic to his own "Hopelandic" half-language–-finally melt into lyric-less harmonic textures that still float across the band's earthy tapestries as naturally as clouds cross the night sky. Rest assured though that any changes are slight; the melancholy brilliance that made Agaetis Bryjun such a life-changing event is still very much the driving force behind Sigur Ros's music, making this new album every bit as essential as the last.
Ágætis Byrjun
Their first album, released in 1999, this is probably their best in the eyes of the critics, but I'm not too sure myself whether I prefer this one, or ( ).
Reykjavík-based noise quartet Sigur Ros are the biggest band in their native Iceland, which should say much, much more about the collective insanity of that earthquake-ridden, blizzard-beaten crag of an island than anything to do with Sigur Ros' sound. But in their music, Sigur Ros reflect all the breathtaking glory of the Icelandic wastes--a fairy-tale explosion of unhinged elemental majesty that's finally crystalised here, their debut European release. Poised somewhere between the haunting soundscapes of Labradford and the lilting Celtic falsetto of Enya, Agaetis Byrjun is a truly breathtaking listen. Frontman Jon Por Birgisson sings in a language that Sigur Ros dub Hopelandic--an otherworldly mutation of Icelandic, sung in the falsetto cadence of angels; similarly, he plays his guitar with a violin bow, opening the floodgates for brilliant waves of feedback. And while it's the opening "Svefn-G-Englar" that's Sigur Ros' defining moment to date, there's far more that Agaetis Byrjun has to offer; the pomp and flourish of a full orchestra on "Flugufrelsarinn", or the awe-inspiring near-religious mantra of "Ny Batteri".
Here's a link to reviews of the three albums by various websites.
http://sigur-ros.co.uk/media/releases.php
Here's the Pitchfork Media review of Ágætis Byrjun
http://pitchforkmedia.com/record-reviews/s/sigur-ros/agaetis-byrjun.shtml
Other than that, all I have to say is that if you like good music, you will not be disappointed by Sigur Rós. It's some of the most epic and beautiful music I've ever heard, which sends a shiver down my spine.
Get it now.
