Sigur Rós - Kveikur
It would have been tempting
for Sigur Rós to have capitalised on 'Hoppípolla' back in 2005/2006,
having had it blast into the stratosphere thanks to some uninspiring
usage from the likes of the BBC et al. Thankfully, Sigur Rós had the good
sense to keep on moving in directions that were as confusing as they were
interesting. And, while it's fair to argue that some of those pieces of
music that followed have been a touch hit and miss, it's also perhaps
missing the point to say that 'Kveikur' is a return-to-form. This, it
would seem, is to suggest that Sigur Rós lost their way, and have returned
to former glories. However, Sigur Rós have never really had a form to
return to; 'Takk' is possibly their commercial highpoint, but it's a
shining diamond in a bag full of creative rare stones. One can be assured
that Sigur Rós have never been shy of 'creating'.
Last album, 'Valtari', was something of an enigma for a lot of folk; a welcome break from the perceived simplicity of 'Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust'. It was, though, something of a curious cul-de-sac; "where to go from there?" Well, as it happens, the place to be right now is in dark(ish) territory. They've not exactly shunned the brightness of their former selves (although, let's be honest, most things pre-'Takk' were sometimes a little cold), but there is a new sense of tormented wailing; a little smoke in their souls. Opener 'Brennisteinn' sets the mood for the entire album; distorted throbbing bass lines, Jonsi's soothing vocalisation, sparse drum patterns, subtle orchestration. It's classic Sigur Rós. Albeit fed through knackered speakers. Elsewhere, the mood is mostly subdued yet anthemic, akin to Radiohead's turn-of-the-century output (before they went weird for the sake of it and disappeared up their own arses). This is probably most keenly heard on 'Yfirborð', complete with lo-fi vocal effects and beats. Such down-beat sonics could become tiresome, so it's with relief that 'Stormur' ups the tempo and the feel to something closer to positivity. Sweetness abounds elsewhere in the decidedly 'Icelandic Joy Division-alike' sounds of 'Rafstraumur'.
All in all, this is an album to be embraced and enjoyed in a number of sessions; don't make your mind up prior to or on your first listen. That would serve this work an injustice. Forget what you think about Sigur Rós' past, what you believe is their high-point, and allow the ambience to take hold instead. You may find that this is your new favourite Sigur Rós album. Either way, it stands as a testament to the progressive nature of these musicians that we will always be surprised by their albums - mostly pleasantly - and in these days of predictability being the new selling-point, that can only be applauded.
Last album, 'Valtari', was something of an enigma for a lot of folk; a welcome break from the perceived simplicity of 'Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust'. It was, though, something of a curious cul-de-sac; "where to go from there?" Well, as it happens, the place to be right now is in dark(ish) territory. They've not exactly shunned the brightness of their former selves (although, let's be honest, most things pre-'Takk' were sometimes a little cold), but there is a new sense of tormented wailing; a little smoke in their souls. Opener 'Brennisteinn' sets the mood for the entire album; distorted throbbing bass lines, Jonsi's soothing vocalisation, sparse drum patterns, subtle orchestration. It's classic Sigur Rós. Albeit fed through knackered speakers. Elsewhere, the mood is mostly subdued yet anthemic, akin to Radiohead's turn-of-the-century output (before they went weird for the sake of it and disappeared up their own arses). This is probably most keenly heard on 'Yfirborð', complete with lo-fi vocal effects and beats. Such down-beat sonics could become tiresome, so it's with relief that 'Stormur' ups the tempo and the feel to something closer to positivity. Sweetness abounds elsewhere in the decidedly 'Icelandic Joy Division-alike' sounds of 'Rafstraumur'.
All in all, this is an album to be embraced and enjoyed in a number of sessions; don't make your mind up prior to or on your first listen. That would serve this work an injustice. Forget what you think about Sigur Rós' past, what you believe is their high-point, and allow the ambience to take hold instead. You may find that this is your new favourite Sigur Rós album. Either way, it stands as a testament to the progressive nature of these musicians that we will always be surprised by their albums - mostly pleasantly - and in these days of predictability being the new selling-point, that can only be applauded.
Score: 9/10
