Alien Angels

It was with a great sense of pleasant surprise that, during a casual visit to Real Groovy last week in which I wasn't intending to buy anything at first, I made the freak discovery of Sigur Rós's newly released album Takk.... As an individual who has only recently discovered this marvellous band, the timing of this release could not likely have been better. Right at a time at which my appetite has been whetted by the practically flawless 1999 release Ágætis Byrjun, and I am seeking out other Sigur Rós material to try, I am presented with a brand new album. What I am thoroughly confused about is how I wasn't enlightened as to Takk...'s upcoming release. However, this serves to make the surprise all the more exciting.

For those of you who do not know of them, Sigur Rós are a quartet (Jónsi Birgission, Kjartan Sveinsson, Georg Hólm, Orri Páll Dýrason) hailing from Iceland who produce music that could be described in a virtually unlimited number of ways. Post-rock is one of them. Shoegazing and progressive are examples of others. However, the terms surreal, otherwordly, and above all spiritual are among perhaps the most fitting adjectives that I could apply to Sigur Rós myself. The band simply defies genre in my view. This is largely so because of the fact that Sigur Rós seem to evoke so much more than just listening pleasure in people. Sigur Rós are a physical, emotional and existential experience that reaches far beyond the music itself.

The band's vocalist and guitarist, Jónsi Birgisson, sings in such a way that would be exponentially hard to come across in the context of any other music. His emotive, powerfully delivered falsetto perfectly captures the spirit of the band; its essence of mysteriousness. The praise of a voice sounding "angelic" has been heaped on many a vocalist, particularly those hailing from the musical era of the seventies and in some instances in the nineties, as well as more recently. Upon hearing Jónsi's voice, however, the experiencer becomes immediately aware that such an adjective has been being bandied around recklessly all of this time, for Jónsi's swirling, unearthly chorus is the only vocal effort that I have heard in my life that I believe is literally deservant of being proclaimed to sound like the voice of an angel.

Only contributing further to the shroud of beautiful, wonderous mystery that surrounds Sigur Rós is the fact that Jónsi delivers the lyrics of the pieces in a mixture of Icelandic, and what he claims to be his own made-up language, Hopelandic, which could be aptly described as something of a vocal instrumental. This of course leaves the deeper meanings of the pieces to be interpreted by the individual, through what they themselves experience through the music, deciphering what emotion they feel exists within the music and creating a significance for the music itself. Lending much thanks to its inherent encouragement of the experiencer to search within themselves for the meaning, the indescribable celestial force that is Sigur Rós's music I feel tends to convey the feeling that, somewhere within the experience, lies the secret to finding and becoming in touch with one's true self.

The new album Takk... is greatly similar to the band's breakthrough masterpiece Ágætis Byrjun in many ways, although vastly different in others. It feels, if anything, distinctly like a continuation of the concepts that I felt were present in the earlier album. However, it could possibly be more accurately described as a progression. Ágætis Byrjun's themes of distant senses of hope and optimism suspended in a vast area of space, barely out of one's reach but still evidently there, have in Takk... flourished into full-fledged happiness, relative contentment and appreciation of the small things in life. On these grounds Takk... would definitely appear to be the ideal companion to Ágætis Byrjun as it is obvious that they are instrinsically linked in their positivity, and the fact that they show different states of said positivity. With an increasingly brightened mood comes an increasingly brightened sound. After some experiencers' complaints of the last album, 2002's (), also known as Untitled sounding as though it has too much of a low feeling to it in comparison to Ágætis Byrjun, it is unsurprising that Sigur Rós chose to go with the vein of optimism that served them so well in the creation of their masterpiece and the achievement of its widely-reknowned status.

In reflection of the senses of overbearing positivity and gratefulness present in this album (the title of which literally translates to "Thanks..."), the music itself has taken on a sound vastly different to that of previous efforts. What has emerged is a work that is much more accessible to potential new experiencers, whilst still maintaining Sigur Rós's instantly recognisable sound owing, among other factors, to the presence of Jónsi's vocals, guitar methods -- he plays his instrument by drawing a cello bow over the strings, producing an ethereal, physically and spiritually warming feedback sound -- and the band's use of space in their pieces. An instantly noticeable difference between this album and the band's previous material is that the drums and particularly the bass are used to a much greater and more prominent extent, and as such a completely different effect is achieved. The warm and uplifting basslines that build throughout most of the pieces contribute greatly to the album's pleasant atmosphere by providing a sense of a great degree of accomplishment and a relaxed attitude. Session musicians helped by supplementing Sigur Rós's sound with instruments such as xylophones, glockenspiels and toy pianos to add further to the light-hearted whimsy, as well as violins and other string instruments to carry some of the more heavy pieces.

When it comes down to it, however, it really is Jónsi's innovative vocals that serve to carry this work to a new level. Contrary to in most of the musical output of Sigur Rós from the past, here Jónsi forsakes the at-times-forceful nature of his traditional emotive vocal efforts for the purposes of being consistent with the contented mood of Takk.... The result is some of the most soft, delicate, and at the same time high-pitched vocals that I have ever had the pleasure of hearing. Those of you familiar with Jónsi's vocal style may get the feeling that what I'm stating means little, for what I am describing as the new style sounds merely like the traditional one. I can, however, assure you that the vocals on Takk... reach a new level of soft and delicate even when we are considering the angelic Jónsi.

One must consider the fact that Takk... is practically one continuous musical piece divided into eleven segments if they are setting about expressing what they believe to be the highlights of the album. Compositions tend to segue together seamlessly, and several musical themes and hooks will emerge unexpectedly at multiple points during the experience. Takk... contains scores of memorable moments, most notably for myself the climax of Glósóli. After a surreal and subdued section at the beginning of the song, an almost-Floydian ascending drumbeat enters the fray and begins to pull the song higher and higher in unison with Jónsi's ever-climbing wails. Whenever the experiencer feels as if Jónsi cannot go any higher, he unexpectedly takes it up another step, with the crashing of the cymbals providing an ample supply of the epic feel. Finally, as the angelic vocalist has just about reached his limits, the thunderous roar of his feedback-blessed guitar kicks in for the first time in the album, possibly more loudly and powerfully than ever before; so loud that the recording itself of the guitar sound distorts. Amidst the wall of sound one can make out furious powerchords, repeatedly increasing in pitch much like Jónsi was doing with his voice a few seconds earlier. The same effect is achieved successfully, where the experiencer is constantly under the impression that the guitar cannot go any higher, only to find that it can. This piece in particular provides me with feeling of physical warmth whenever I listen to it. It gives me goosebumps, and I can't help but be excited whenever the build-up to the climax begins. Glósóli really has to be heard to be believed.

Hoppípolla, Saeglopur and Milanó are notable pieces also, the very former providing an endearing image of playful childhood whimsy, delivered with the help of a wonderfully uplifting bassline and keyboard work. Unsurprisingly, Takk... as a whole is an extremely well-formed artwork that provides the experiencer with plenty to enjoy on a more simple level, in addition to holding true to Sigur Rós's tradition of providing people with mental and spiritual space to play in that has made them so famous. I don't for a moment mean to say that I hold anything short of adoration for Takk..., but as of the present moment in time I am of the strong opinion that Ágætis Byrjun is still my preference. The first reason for this is the aforementioned accessibility of Takk.... This is not a case of one being concerned that they are going to find a larger audience -- far from it, I am actually in favour of such a thing happening. It is a real shame that this beautiful art is still not reaching so many people. However, my problem lies in my own personal experience of the album. Takk... feels, for some reason, as if a lot of the meaning in the music has been handed to the experiencer on a plate. There is still a significant amount of inner-searching to be done, but it is nowhere near as aplenty as it was in Ágætis Byrjun, which was mysterious and thought-provoking to the point that I found myself able to have a different experience every time that I listened to it. Everything seemed tantalisingly out of reach, but -- as I explained earlier -- just close enough that you could wonder after it. My second more minor qualm is that I had a distinct feeling that Jónsi's unique guitar technique -- which I find to create one of the most powerful effects in music -- was slightly underused. Let it be known, though, that Takk... is a fantastic work of art, very much worthy of purchase by anyone with a mind for being swept up in a surreality that may yet hold the key to our selves, and actually coming very close to the practical flawlessness of Ágætis Byrjun. This release has asserted Sigur Rós as nearly the most fantastic band that I have ever come across.