Bleep

Sigur Ros’ third album ‘()’, released in 2002, was a suite of 8 understated and untitled pieces which outlined the band’s trademark vision encompassing rock music and sweet, poignant instrumental music. Much of the album’s pleasure comes from the play of tension between the traditional song format and more esoteric methods of constructing a track. The album’s lyrics are delivered in a nonsensical language which nonetheless echoes the group’s native tongue Icelandic in its breathy beauty, avoiding pinning the content to specific meaning and instead allowing the listener to imbue the pieces with their own interpretations.

Track ‘6’ flowers from the simplest of hand-played toms into strangely submerged cello and viola drones, which support a high male vocal recalling Thom Yorke at his most ethereal, while album closer ‘8’ takes the edge of a Doors-esque guitar lick by surrounding it with pattering drums and once more the swelling, sighing strings which are sparingly and effectively used. Listening over its entirety, the album makes for an entrancing experience, with small details coming out from the luscious palette the group bring across so well. ‘4’ has something like a baby cry embedded within its slow cinematic groove, a vital attention to detail which lifts this beautiful album to even higher heights.