Takk - Sigur Ros Album Review

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Album Review

It's Monday September 12, and I'm sunbathing in the glory of an unexpected Indian summer - working at the same time of course!

On my PC is a CD by troubadour Icelandic quartet Sigur Ros. Thoughts immediately turn to Iceland, an island few people venture to, though I did meet someone from there last year. The music I'm listening to (not a three minute pop song in sight), takes me to another place, sub-consciously, or even stimulus bound by the word Iceland, to the distant island I would imagine. And that's exactly what I'm doing - imagining. I'm running through some kind of rapid storyboard of how to add images in my mind's eye. The four young men responsible for my trip are - Jon 'Jonsi' Birgisson, Kjartan Svenisson, Orri Pall Dyrason and Georg Holm.

Takk (Thanks) is their fourth studio release, out on September 12 on EMI Records. The quartet have released a strangely titled single and albums in the past two years with little impact on the UK charts- their last album just crawled into the top 50 at 49. So what chance has Takk got on improving on their abysmal early record? Critics seem to love it, and there's bound to be a queue of tv and film directors already lining it up for some up-and-coming project. Commercial success is not on the cards, some might say it's a poor man's Tubular Bells (Mike Oldfield). 'Musos' will probably lap it up.

Musically it's very attractive: quirky, and almost ground-breaking. It's also deceptive. Opener, Takk, limping along at one minute 57 seconds draws you into a false sense of comfort as it leads into Glosoli which gratingly crescendos into power-mode at 4 minutes 43 seconds of its 6 minutes 15 seconds. Hoppipolla could be a confused Coldplay, which rises and falls to some grand orchestration. The next track is almost the same. Se Lest is so delicate it's almost in danger of shattering into tiny bits until a 'brass band' section just holds it together. Fragility continues on Saeglopur until thumping chords once again shatter the illusion, a formula included on Milano ( 10 mins 25 secs ) and Svo Hljott. Advari is serene throughout and very sleepy.

It finishes as it started, with the chill-out and meandering Heysatan.

For the ordinary pop fan this will leave you wondering, particularly as the vocalist (Jon 'Jonsi' Birgisson) is singing in an invented language - Hopelandic. Add the music and lyrics together we're left to work things out for ourselves for over an hour and five minutes. That's what pop music isn't about, so therefore 'art' becomes more complex, and dare I say it, intellectual. There are wondrous moments of beauty, tenderness, finesse, bemusement, apocalyptic highs and trickiness - with an odd-nod to Coldplay (not too much though).Centre stage is the singing, which curiously becomes subliminal, but blends in at the appropriate timing, adding to the various ambiences on offer.

If the end is nigh, and there is another apocalyptic event, then this is surely the soundtrack for it.

Did I really hear this, or was I just imagining once again?

Elly Roberts