See. This is what I get when I follow the crowd whose praise is directed at what turns out to be a rather pompous utterly boring Icelandic band. In all honesty, the only other entity I know as coming out of that northern country is Bjork and of course the band that gave fame to her, the Sugarcubes. But aside from the originating nation, Sigur Rós has nothing in common with Bjork.
Sigur Rós formed in 1994 at the hands of Jon Thor Birgisson (vocals, guitar), Georg Hom (bass), and Agust (drums). With this trio, the band recorded their debut album Von in 1997. Soon thereafter, Kjartan Sveinsson was added to the lineup on keyboards. Finally boasting a complete lineup, Sigur Rós followed up in 1999 with Ágćtis Byrjun. And based on the success of that album, the band was singed to major label MCA in addition to being called the best album of the century in their homeland.
But the lineup wasn’t solidified. Agust left the band and was instantaneously replaced by Orri Pall Dyrason. With the band complete, Sigur Rós toured Europe most notably as the opening act for Radiohead. The support of the uber-popular British band appears to have been just enough to gain the Icelanders a modest amount of support stateside. And so the band with the support of MCA released their third album.
I’ll give you a guess as to the first indication that ( ) is a pretentious album. But following the critical praise and commercial breakthrough of the album, I thought it time to take a chance. Boy was I wrong. And to rub salt in the open and weeping wound, Sigur Rós neglects to name even one of their eight overlong tracks. So not only is the album itself a mushy mess, but it is impossible to delineate one song from the next even by title. Clocking in at over seventy minutes, everything about ( ) is excessive. Am I impressed by their attempts at entertaining the masses? Not in the least. Instead I find myself nauseous from overly trite melodies and unoriginal musical ideas.
Sigur Rós seems to have adopted on musical idea and thusly found it necessary to expound upon it (as slowly sleep-inducing as it may be) for the entire album. ( ) is divided in two by a half-minute break. But the ideas from one half to the next are essentially the same. In addition, the album is meant as an entire vision not at all different in purpose from the excellent work of Mansun on Attack of the Grey Lantern or Jim White on Wrong-Eyed Jesus. Where these acts differ is in skill, delivery, consistency, and conciseness. Sigur Rós lacks direction, so the fact that the album is supposed to be a complete work is lost.
Is ( ) the worst thing out there? Hardly. On some levels, the album is good. The spacey, light, airy feel is refreshing but it’s nothing listeners haven’t heard before. At times it sounds like classical music while at other times it sounds like the bastard child of Radiohead and Bjork. And while the melodies are good, they are repetitive and last much too long. So any goodness with ( ) is easily forgotten. The album, alas, is easily forgotten as are whatever ideas Sigur Rós intended on presenting.
There is at least one very good thing to be said about ( ). While you might not want to drive to work while listening to the album, it does work well as background noise while studying or falling asleep. Other than that…well, ignore this overrated, over-hyped, over-produced drivel.
In describing the tracks, I’m at a loss for words. Yes, believe it or not, it can happen even to the most verbose writers. The album begins with a flurry of keyboards and piano as provided by Sveinsson. Soon…err, okay make that minutes down the line…Birgisson breaks in with strange, uneasy, and unpredictable vocals. While I usually use these three descriptors as a compliment to particularly emotional, eerie songs such are not the case with this one (or the seven that follow). The second track is mildly different, but as a whole it blends directly into the first and the third. Dyrason drums slowly, methodically throughout but the musical ideas do little to improve upon the already dismal themes.
Shock of all shocks, the third and fourth song draw upon the vibe already set down by Sigur Rós in their earlier songs. Intelligent orchestral arrangement? I think not, the band seems to have run out of ideas and settled on pretension. After the pause before the second section, one would expect a completely different movement (as in classical music). Again, no. Sigur Rós continues with rather monotonous, dry, and bleak melodies only occasionally broken by vocals. The emotion of the album is almost completely missing. Listeners will find themselves wading through a completely moderate album rather than one that elicits hate, joy, love, or life. As ( ) draws to a close, the songs get longer…much, much longer eventually topping out at nearly thirteen minutes in the case of the seventh.
As far as albums go, ( ) is almost average. The band was obviously trying something massively majestic, but they failed miserably. It’s not that Sigur Rós created something aurally offensive. Rather, they tried much too hard and in turn came off as robotic. Seriously…skip this if you know what is good for you.
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