MOG

Sigur Rós make landscape music. It’s kinetic, progressive, scenic, responsive, complimentary. Subtle, yet emotive and powerful, the Icelandic group’s fifth album, med sud i eyrum vid spilum endalaust (which translates to "with a buzz in our ears we play endlessly"), is not drastically different from Sigur Rós’s previous work. Considering the quality of those other four meticulously-crafted albums, this is a very good thing.

Staccato marimbas over lush, fluid strings and windy drum rolls topped with Jón Birgisson’s soulful stagnant vocals hanging like an intoxicating fog over the music invokes images of those sweeping aerial shots of Sigur Rós’s native Iceland from their recent documentary, "Heima." The music and scenery are a perfect fit.

At some moments, this album is progressive ala Explosions In The Sky or A Silver Mt. Zion (heard towards the end of such songs as "Festival," and "Inní mér syngur vitleysingur"), and at others it has intimately acoustic melodies (heard in the beginning of "Gódan daginn" and "Íllgresi") that conjure up the wispy nostalgic spirits of folkies like Tim Buckley and Nick Drake. The album’s final track, "All Alright," even transcends into minimalist melodies that make me think of Jim O’Rourke and the slow spacey sounds associated with Daniel Lanois.

Somewhere between the soft bellows and hums of Gregorian chant and the prolonged crescendos of modern prog rock, between the not quite John Williams-style scoring, and the faint brushstrokes of the late 60s/early 70s folk movement, Sigur Rós make their home.

A great strength of this band is that their music never feels composed, but rather, just played, improvised. The reverberations of strings and metal keys, the delicate strain wafting from the throat of Birgisson, the rolling snares and bases rumbling like the softest thunder of a distant summer rainstorm — when you close your eyes, you can see that this music is not made, but just is.

All of the news reports that we keep reading about globalization and an international marketplace do not exclude the world of music. Sigur Rós’s growing international appeal marks them as a globalized band. Evidence of their music’s widening reach is not only seen in album sales statistics, but in this album’s recording and engineering locations, which includes cities as far and wide as New York City, Havana, Álafoss (Iceland), and London. 

Along with Sigur Rós’s four core members (Jón Birgisson on vocals and guitars, Kjartan Sveinsson on keys, Orri Páll Dýrason on drums, and Georg Holm on bass), many more musicians contributed to the massive final product that’s been flying off shelves and climbing chart lists all over the world. At one point, the group breaks personal records (and probably some others) when during the song "Ára Bátur," they are joined by the London Sinfionetta for a dizzying total of 90 people playing at the same time.

Also add a great big production credit to Mark "Flood" Ellis who has produced a handful of little groups you may have heard of like U2, Smashing Pumpkins, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, Nine Inch Nails, PJ Harvey, and a slew of others.

Another name to add to the list as partly responsible for this album is photographer Ryan McGinley. A piece from McGinley’s recent exhibit "I Know Where the Summer Goes" ended up as the cover art for med sud i eyrum vid spilum endalaust. Although much of the inspiration for the music on this album was "inspired by the unfettered feeling of the acoustic performances filmed during heima," (ref) McGinley’s work captures the spirit of this album with what seems to be some common inspiration. Some of McGinley’s recent work highlights human nudity and the natural world (as shown in Sigur Rós’s album artwork), and shows a spiritual connection between the two by tapping into a freedom-loving, primordial sense of life on this planet.

Sigur Rós have their priorities straight. They make music in effort to connect spiritually with their surroundings and community. As I’ve implied here, that all comes through in the music. Keeping in line with the idea that this is "landscape music," I’ll say that the uplifting tones of this album (more so than the vaguely melancholic vibes of previous Sigur Rós albums) provide a sense of appreciation for the natural world—a celebration of the overwhelming beauties of everyday existence.

Sigur Rós’s music is not just to be heard by us, nor is it just to be played by them—it is to be experienced by all.