Just like any other material by the Icelandic outfit, Kveikur, the seventh studio album to come from Sigur Rós, is steeped in pressure. Despite not being the biggest band in the world in terms of popularity, they are one of, if not the, biggest sounding bands in the world, and with that comes a certain amount of expectation. Sigur Rós are not only deemed the leader in the already much applauded Scandinavian post-rock scene and not a whole lot of people would complain were this status to be extended to the entire world of music. With their trademark sound and lead singer Jónsi’s so very falsetto omnipresent vocals, they were already taking music places. Add to that their art capabilities that go beyond the musical medium (such as their made up Hopelandic vocabulary and The Valtari Mystery Film Experiment) and you can begin to understand where all the pressure comes from. Fortunately, take a listen to quite literally the first note of lead single Brennisteinn, which opens the LP, and you’ll see that Sigur Rós continues to be innovative, that Sigur Rós is embracing the pressure, and in ways you wouldn’t expect.
Brennisteinn, after all, is an aggressive song, an adjective you wouldn’t often associate with Sigur Rós’ typical ambience and Jónsi’s delicate tones. The first ‘note’ of the album is one that is dominant and ominous, a klaxon-like sound that director Christopher Nolan so likes to illustrate the impending doom that often features in his films. Despite this kind of sound being one that isn’t ‘Sigur Rós’ (if anything most would regard the now three-piece to be the antithesis of such characteristics), it actually turns out to be the defining feature of Kveikur. Bláþráður is held together by reverb that wouldn’t be as out of place in the death metal scene so prevalent in Scandinavia as one would expect. Perhaps it is telling that the title track, with its distorted drums and heavy reliance on the bottom three guitar strings, is the heaviest song on the album? It takes some doing to make Jónsi sound even remotely like a rockstar and yet this happens far more than one would expect.
This isn’t to say it’s all doom and gloom musically speaking. Just as the LP’s lead single is representative of Sigur Rós’ new found maliciousness, so too does is its follow-up, Ísjaki, represent a quality that is just as rife and superbly executed throughout Kveikur – the Sigur Rós quality. Ísjaki is composed of the ever favoured sweeping strings and a surprisingly sing-along-able chorus, Hrafntinna has the big industrial sounding drums and eloquent layered vocals, and Rafstraumur has the ability to boost morale and provoke a real lust for life in a way that pretty well every other Sigur Rós song can. These are the generally accepted traits of Sigur Rós. Or, rather, they were.
With the arrival of Kveikur, and its seamless fusing of characteristics that so very are and so very aren’t ‘Sigur Rós’, how the band will be identified has changed somewhat. It will, and can, no longer be the quality of music that will differentiate their art from their peers. It will be the quality of innovation. This, surely, is the biggest compliment of all.
4/5
Released: 17th June 2013 (XL Recordings)
