Overpowering depth, dramatic beauty, majestic chaos - Sigur Rós is a band that can be described in many ways to many people. The Icelandic quartet has been saluted with its undeniably sharp and inventive stage shows as well as its demanding, layered albums, but what happens when a few virgin ears and a few jaded minds are confronted with the band’s thunderous dramatics? Here are four reactions, four impressions, four takes on Sigur Rós’ Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust.
This is my first experience with Sigur Rós, so I can’t talk about how this album compares to their past works; I can only write about how it affected me. Or, I could just think of a bunch of random non-sequiturs to describe the music; isn’t that what music journalism is all about these days? For example: this is the music that plays in your skull right as you freeze to death and get eaten by scavenging polar bears under the Aurora Borealis. This is the music your high school art teacher plays while he does free-form line drawings late at night. This is the music they blast in extraterrestrial cathedrals while thousands of slimy tentacles reach to the stars in praise of some gelatinous alien god. It’s got an otherworldly quality to it, though it is firmly grounded in the (very human) traditions of tension and release, of building up to catharsis. As I couldn’t understand the lyrics, this structural aspect was emphasized—the album has a force-of-nature quality to it; rather than processing the songs as poetry set to music, I heard it as an elemental force washing over me. There is a changeup later in the album with “Illgresi,” a beautiful little acoustic ballad, but for the most part the songs kind of ran together for me. Still, this is an enthralling album; a challenging listen, but a rewarding one. [Kyle “El Guante” Myhre]
Sigur Rós are kind of like the Daniel Day-Lewis of the music community – mysterious, reclusive geniuses who consistently produce some of the best work in their field. Like Day-Lewis though, they also give the impression that they could be pretentious misfits, who may also have a touch of the crazies. Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust is their fifth studio album – and the first one recorded outside of their home of Iceland. Possibly due to their removal from the pristine coldness of their country, this record has more warmth to it than previous efforts. Tracks like “Inní mér syngur vitleysingur” and “Við spilum endalaust” sound a bit like they could be indie pop songs, just sang in a made up language. “Íllgresi” is even a brief foray into chamber folk – putting a slightly less polished but more human face on the band than I have previously seen. Fans of the band’s epic work won’t be disappointed either: there are a couple tracks here that rival anything on ( ) in minimalist beauty and range. “Ára bátur” is the best of these: a gorgeous nine minute journey that culminates with a full orchestra and children’s choir. Overall the scope and geniality of endalaust gives the impression that the group may be ready to reach out a bit from their island in the frozen sea (some of the song titles are even in English!). In true Sigur Rós style though, they have maintained their strange remoteness even while becoming more accessible. [Jon Behm]
It has been my experience that Sigur Rós is one of those groups some people love and some people just don’t get. With me hanging on the “Don’t Get It” side, I have found my personal attempts to get through a whole album completely futile. However, I have to say this - thank you, Sigur Rós – I have just gotten through Med sud I eyrum vid spilum endalaust. I have no idea what you are really saying, but I am pretty sure I latched on to the emotion you are conveying and it was a lovely experience. The drone of past albums that I have personally found to be barely unlistenable has been energized with some poppier bursts here and there, and a more accessible listen for my occasionally stubborn ear. Even “Ara batur”, at almost nine minutes was inspiring and insanely beautiful and for a brief moment had tears welling up in my eyes. This album will have me sheepishly diving back into their catalog to catch up on what I have been missing. [Jen Paulson]
There are many tragic injustices that have been part of our culture’s history for decades. For instance the tendency for so-called iconic figureheads to fall prey to media and cultural critique while their seemingly harmless contemporaries escape the same exposure unscathed. In this vein there have been various musicians or artists who have been accused of taking an active part in the destruction of our society’s youth due to their platforms, subject matter, or delivery. Key moments stand out: the PMRC’s trial of Prince, W.A.S.P., Cyndi Lauper, and others in the 1980s, or the mainstream media’s fear mongering of Marilyn Manson in the 1990s. Unlike these acts though, there are some artists who should be considered real threats. Like Sigur Rós. The majority of the listeners of the group’s latest album could easily find themselves mistaking the album’s title or lyrical gobbledigook for occult tribal calls or self-corrupting poetry. Think: “Beautiful People.” Moments akin to the subtle wave of “Straumnes” can menacingly destruct a person with their ability to lure the soul clean of the body. The album’s concluding track, “All Alright,” echoes a feeling of sadness far deeper than anything ever hinted at by the “Filthy Fifteen,” and it’s a shame that more people don’t suspect that the same beautiful melodies that the band creates might be some of the most dangerous on the planet. [Chris DeLine]
Sigur Rós “Gobbledigook” (mp3)
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