Let's clear some things up about Sigur Ros right now: Their "Scandinavian mystic elf" schtick is completely transparent. Their singer has laid down, to the best of my recollection, a grand total of maybe three different vocal parts (three is generous, considering that there was roughly one on their last album). They're too pretentious for words (this should be plain to see, considering that their last album was titled ( ) and was sung in a supposedly invented language). Every single one of their albums is about twice as long as it needs to be.
And yet... I love them!
I'll admit I fell for the whole ( ) gimmick hook, line, and sinker when it first came out. I loved its predecessor, Agaetis Byrjun, and was literally counting down the days until its release, and as a testament to my fandom I'd just paid almost $50 for a ticket to see them, and the ticket wasn't even here in Philly. It was in New York, which meant driving three hours each way, and paying another $20 to park. If I'd known they'd play Philly the next spring, I might have reconsidered. And when I got ( ), the idea of releasing an album of pop songs with no titles and no actual lyrics seemed like the greatest thing ever. The fact that I couldn't tell "Hopelandic" from their usual Icelandic lyrics anyway made little difference.
But I seem to have soured on them over the last couple years. The main reason for that is that I stopped looking at them through my rose-colored glasses that allowed me to overlook all of their ridiculousness and the flaws I listed earlier. The result? It's probably been a good year and a half since I had them on, and even then it was probably the Ba Ba Ti Ki Di Do EP that resulted from their collaboration with Merce Cunningham and Radiohead. So here I am, listening to their first album since ( ), Takk..., having just recently passed up an opportunity to see their amazing live show for a third time, and how do I feel?
Pretty good.
I can't quite put my finger on it, and I've never been able to, but, like Boards of Canada, the best Sigur Ros moments are mind-blowingly amazing for reasons that are unknown to most people. I have no idea if they're just amazingly talented and passionate, or formulaic and manipulative, but whatever they've been doing for the past six years or so, it's worked, and it still does.
One thing is for sure: these guys know their way around a dramatic climax, and, like everything else they've done, Takk... is packed to the brim with them. Some are certainly more effective than others ("Milano" comes to mind, as does "Saeglopur"), and those moments are worthy of the best of Agaetis Byrjun, but overall, it's merely ok. Frankly, the whole thing is starting to get old. I get the feeling I'm supposed to hear "Svo Hljott" as a dramatic climax to the entire album, but by the time I get there, I've heard it already. About eight times, by that point.
The real joys for me are the unexpected moments, the moments that display a hint of creativity and subtlety. Hear that horn section in "Se Lest"? That is what brings the smile to my face. It's strinkingly reminiscent of Agaetis Byrjun's "Staralfur," which has a similar passage with horns and strings that ranks as not only my favorite moment in the entire Sigur Ros catalog, but one of my favorite moments in any song, ever. The first time I heard that part in "Staralfur" I was dumbstruck with awe. It sounded like the band suddenly stepped into a time warp and decided to march down the aisle of a cathedral to Handel's arrangement of their own song. It was indescribably wonderful.
But do you see where I've ended up? I started off talking about their new album, and the best I could manage was a smiling reminiscence of one of their older ones. And that just about sums up Takk... It's not bad, but I hardly envision myself ever needing to hear it too often when it sounds so similar to something that's so much better.
Short note: all of the Icelandic accents and written oddities have been Anglified for the purpose of this post, because Blogger does not seem to take kindly to non-English symbols. So if you cringe at Agaetis Byrjun written without all its accents and whatnot, I apologize.
No comments:
Post a Comment