Sigur Ros

Hvarf/Heim

Already heard coming out of Reykjavik, the group has followed suit after a two-year silence: the metaphysical, ethereal, controlled and remote sounds of Sigur Ros remain in tact. The discs have a healthy relationship of balancing each other; Heim is a quiet, walking through the woods type of background noise, and very easy to get lost in while letting the play list flip over and over. This subdued sound does a great job of grounding the more impressive and experimental treatments that Jonsi, Kjarri, Orri and Georg display on the first disc, Hvarf.

Hvarf opens with the lamenting male soprano of "Salka," accompanied by the gentle Coinciding with the release of their film, Heima, Sigur Ros has graced us with the double-album digipak including the charismatic Hvarf and the atmospheric Heim. From what the listening public has marching of careful percussion. Halfway through, the song breaks down to guitar and singing so penetrating and high he sounds like a mouse. It's wonderful. Despite the epic indications of a soundtrack for a band-made movie, one criticism (especially for this track) is the attention span of the listener is lost on lengthy songs when they're not watching the beautiful Icelandic landscape in conjunction with beautiful Icelandic music.

"Hijomalind" picks up gently where "Salka" leaves off and lets the listener breathe with Jon Por (Jonsi) now that he's singing in an octave more suitable for his vocal chords. The chorus kicks in with soaring electric guitars and introduces the words "You rise on my fall," a refrain throughout the song that creates not only musical metaphors but ones of romance and dedication, as well.

"I Gaer" begins as a sweet little music box foil to the rocking exodus of the previous track. Glockenspiels orchestrate to really paint the picture of the magic of the country they have filmed in Heima. About a minute in to the song a metal guitar and tragic notes accompanied by echoed vocals have not only completed the painting but they have framed it and put it on a wall. It's Quintessential music for the descendents of the Norwegian Sea.

"Von" follows in this same vein of Icelandic translation while it builds momentum for the last half of the song, featuring a rock anthem incarnation of Jonsi's vocals countered by Orri Dyrason's nearly tribal, simplified drums. The overall aesthetic is appreciable but falls victim to the "we get it already" problems that "Salka" was having. Perhaps a blessing in disguise, because flanking the powerful "Hijomalind" and "I Gaer" with room to think makes those two songs all the better.

Ricocheting bass strings begin the dynamic "Hafsol" which soon morphs in to a plucky, falsetto-ed center only to descend in to an energetic breakdown of noise which fizzles and licks its wounds at the very end of the experience.

While certainly Heim deserves as much attention as Hvarf, a truly rounded experience would be to get yourself to a music store and purchase the movie which is currently touring screenings that will not be in the Northeast any time soon. Viewing the movie will give the already satisfied listener a library of visuals to anchor their thoughts to. Ultimately, Hvarf/Heim and Heima will create a rounded sensory experience not to be passed by.

Originally published in Spare Change News 1/03/08.