Album Reviews

You needn't speak Icelandic to appreciate and absorb the primal purity and almost unbearable innocent beauty created by this electronica driven quartet. In fact, speaking the group's native tongue wouldn't help at all since vocalist Jonsi Thor Birgisson's lyrics are in a language of his own invention. You needn't speak Icelandic to appreciate and absorb the primal purity and almost unbearable innocent beauty created by this electronica driven quartet. In fact, speaking the group's native tongue wouldn't help at all since vocalist Jonsi Thor Birgisson's lyrics are in a language of his own invention.

While pigeonholing the group's ethereal music doesn't really do it justice, think Peter Gabriel's march-like cadences providing the rhythmic underpinnings, and Brian Eno's ambient experiments filling the in-between spaces, though the music's compositional structure is more cinematic and almost symphonic in scope, with occasional sweeping crescendos and spectacular dynamic swells filled with longing and wonderment.

Soundscapes that can be desolate, awe-inspiring or mysterious draw the listener into a naïve, child-like (but never "juvenile") emotional world - hardly surprising given the group's apparent pre-occupation with birth (the previous album cover features a phosphorescent winged embryo).

The opening track begins with a stately piano figure that might have been lifted from Beethoven's "Moonlight" sonata. An eerie electronicized chorus drifts in the background and then the piano is joined by a hint of a string backdrop. Birgisson enters, singing something that sounds like "you saw, you saw the light," or "you sat along with fire," but of course he's not saying anything in English or any other known language. The "you saw" line, sung mostly in a ghostly, breathy falsetto is a vocal motif repeated throughout the hour plus disc. Sometimes it declaims wonder, at other times it almost sounds accusatorial and finally it seems tired and resigned. The work might be a description of the cycle of life, but the beauty of ( ) is that the meaning rests squarely in the mind of the listener; there's not a trite, clichéd or emotionally obvious moment to be heard.

The entire hour-plus work is a series of complex variations on the initial theme, with the musical divisions feeling more like movements of a single piece than individual "songs." The emotional ebb and flow of the music and the transitional sophistication among the elements demonstrates a group of musicians in complete control of the recording, compositional and especially arranging processes.

The group draws from a rich musical palette of electric guitar, bass, drums, a real string section, voices, and of course a wide range of synth sounds and electronic effects. Either a real piano or a well synthesized one is featured throughout. Slowed down drum tracks and other effects create subterranean bass that's tastefully applied. In the hands of musical slobs these are the ingredients with the potential to create a bombastic mess, but under the electronic baton of these musically sensitive souls, the results are both stimulating and soothing.

The desired effect is aided by an absolutely superb recording that strives to make synthetics sound organic. These guys have done their homework, they care about recorded sound and production, and they deliver a work of stunning beauty and enduring value. Highly recommended on CD. The LP hadn't been issued by Fat Cat at deadline time. Also worth picking up, the group's previous album, Agaetis Byrjun (see February's "In Heavy Rotation) on either CD or on the 2 LP UK pressed Fat Cat Records edition, both mastered by Mandy at The Exchange.