Tough to describe without lapsing into clichéd talk of glaciers and volcanoes, much...
Adam Smith 2002
After a three-year hiatus, soundtrack-bothering Icelandic dronesters Sigur Rós are back to remind us what 'epic' really means.
Tough to describe without lapsing into clichéd talk of glaciers and volcanoes, much of Takk (Icelandic for 'thanks'), undeniably evokes the awesome spectacle of nature, making the human drama of conventional rock seem trifling.
Largely they stick to the formula established by their international breakthroughalbum Agætis Byrjun; drifting, orchestral hymns overlaid with inscrutable banshee-like vocals and sudden bursts of guitar distortion.
Despite the lack of progression on Takk there are some lovelymoments of playfulness, as in "Sé Lest" when, after six minutes of burbling glockenspiel and vocalist Jónsi's cooing, a chirpy brass band emerges to bring the song to a close. But mostly Sigur Rós remain grave, with skittery tracks like "Gong" which are full of shrill menace. Only after the tranquil "Andvari" does the album turn softer and less coherent, before the finalmajestic coda of "'Heysátan".
Takk. Our pleasure, as ever.