Ágætis byrjun marked an immense change in the band’s sound, as it largely did away with the electro-dream pop influences, and embraced cold, ethereal ambience and lush post-rock sounds capes. With the internet at this time becoming a hotbed for musical discovery, the album found its way into blogs and websites, and eventually into international success. Thus, Ágætis byrjun floated about for some months until some impressive radio play helped boost record sales. Hand-gluing the cases themselves (much to the behest of those receiving copies destroyed by said glue), and playing wherever they possibly could, Sigur Ros were just barely getting by. Hailing from Iceland, a miniscule, cold, island nation miles away from any bustling mainland, Sigur Ros didn’t quite have the necessary tools to make an impression on the international scene. Two years removed from their debut album, Von, Sigur Ros were still an unknown act, bordering on the fringe of breakthrough and fading into obscurity. You see, Ágætis byrjun is more than just a picturesque image of “pretty” and “beautiful,” but rather, a maelstrom of many different kinds of sounds.Īt the time of it’s release, the album didn’t exactly make waves. And “gorgeous” is what this album truly has in spades, and is oddly what detracts from everything else at hand. It turns post-rock conventions on their heads, and warps them into what Sigur Ros see fit, which in this case, is undeniably gorgeous.
In this sense, it feels wholly organic, and in some instances, like a living, breathing work. It feels accidental, really, as if Sigur Ros somehow stumbled upon these notes and these sounds, all converging into what is found on the album. Ágætis byrjun, an album understandable to few, and in some cases, only one, can still be felt by anyone, simply on the basis of how it presents itself. To this reviewer, Ágætis byrjun is one such work. This is what makes the idea, the presence that is music such a wonderfully part of life, and why some pieces can transcend language, social, and cultural barriers. Music can speak without saying anything, and be felt without actually being physical. Music can affect people the world over, and universally become more than anything tangibly describable. Music can cover a wide spectrum of thoughts, ideals, and emotions, become more than mere sounds fluttering in open space, and more than the dashes and lines upon a score. At its worst, well, it’s good for falling asleep to.Review Summary: 1999 Sigur Ros broke down doors we didn’t even really know existed, and in the vast expanse that is the landscape of music, that is a truly revolutionary accomplishment. It’s not all quiet and atmospheric either, as shown by Ny Batteri, whose horns, insistent cymbal taps and slightly shouty vocals beat any of Radiohead’s recent jazzy songs.Īt its best this album is exhilarating and beautiful and will send shivers down your spine every time. The incredible Vidrar Vel Til Lofterasa begins with a piano emerging ever-so-gently from the ambient background murmur and builds up over the course of ten minutes to a jaw-droppingly huge orchestral climax, while Olsen Olsen’s wonderful repeating theme is continued by a lone flute after the song seems to have finished, and Staralfur is almost a piece of classical music until it all fades away and just a single acoustic guitar is played as backing to the chilling vocals. Electric guitars are played with cello bows sonar pings join feedback build-ups and a huge array of instruments are called in. The second is the sheer scale of the music and experimentation on offer. First is the fact that they sing in Icelandic and/or Hopelandish (gibberish to me and Icelandic speakers) which, together with the fact that Jónsi Birgisson‘s voice is even more high-pitched and eerie than those of similar singers, actually adds to the ethereal beauty of their music.
While they sound a little like American bands like Mercury Rev and The Flaming Lips and at times like the quieter aspects of Radiohead’s recent work (think Pyramid Song and How to Disappear Completely), two things make Sigur Ros stand out. But within this album is enough remarkable and beautiful music to more than compensate for this, and there are a couple of songs so haunting and beautiful that they nearly moved me to the point of tears which are worth paying out for the album for on their own. The second studio album from Icelandic post-rockers Sigur Ros, though the only one to make any impact at all on these shores, Agaetis Byrjun is over seventy minutes long, contains an intro and outro which are so minimalist as to barely exist, and has at least two other songs which are suffocatingly boring.