I have mentioned quite a few times now that I've had a Sigur Rós trip as of late. The other day I re-saw Heima, the band's beautiful DVD of their Iceland homecoming tour in 2006. Also, when I was down at the record store picking up Konkylie, I stumbled upon Sigur Rós' latest and, anyhow for the time being, last album, Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust, from 2008. By all means the band's most accessible record, it sort of bridges the gap between the pathos tsunamis of Ágætis Byrjun, () and Takk... and front man Jónsi's debut solo album, the lush and twinkling Go of yesteryear.
You really only have to be borne through la-la and acoustic guitar-driven opener 'Gobbledigook', which with its mere 3 minutes playing time would almost qualify as an interlude on the band's extremely slow-moving and gradual older albums to sense that something's changed. It's like the massive frozenness that holds the larger-than-lifeness of an album such as () firmly in its grasp has been lifted.
Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust is thaw. It's little daffodils valiantly breaking through the black soil. It's children smiling at the sun, it's carefree youths running around naked (as the cover suggests...). 'Ínni Mér Syngur Vitleysingur' carries on the burden-free high-spiritedness, 'Goðan Daginn' very aptly means "good morning", and is surely a tune to want to be awakened by, and 'Við Spilum Endalaust' is purely triumphant.
Sigur Rós are still emotionally impactful on the opening cuts of this album, although they seem to have realized they don't need to resemble the sputtering volcanoes and shoulder-rubbing tectonic plates of their homeland. Pathos and grandeur does eventually sneak in through the back door by way of lengthy cuts 'Festival' and 'Ára Bátur', both of which are Sigur Rós at the helm of the forces-of-nature size rapture and snaillike progression. Luckily, the band still operates this dashboard as well, and a tune like 'Fljótavík' reminds me how we the destructive species perhaps didn't deserve Sigur Rós in the first place.
You really only have to be borne through la-la and acoustic guitar-driven opener 'Gobbledigook', which with its mere 3 minutes playing time would almost qualify as an interlude on the band's extremely slow-moving and gradual older albums to sense that something's changed. It's like the massive frozenness that holds the larger-than-lifeness of an album such as () firmly in its grasp has been lifted.
Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust is thaw. It's little daffodils valiantly breaking through the black soil. It's children smiling at the sun, it's carefree youths running around naked (as the cover suggests...). 'Ínni Mér Syngur Vitleysingur' carries on the burden-free high-spiritedness, 'Goðan Daginn' very aptly means "good morning", and is surely a tune to want to be awakened by, and 'Við Spilum Endalaust' is purely triumphant.
Sigur Rós are still emotionally impactful on the opening cuts of this album, although they seem to have realized they don't need to resemble the sputtering volcanoes and shoulder-rubbing tectonic plates of their homeland. Pathos and grandeur does eventually sneak in through the back door by way of lengthy cuts 'Festival' and 'Ára Bátur', both of which are Sigur Rós at the helm of the forces-of-nature size rapture and snaillike progression. Luckily, the band still operates this dashboard as well, and a tune like 'Fljótavík' reminds me how we the destructive species perhaps didn't deserve Sigur Rós in the first place.
