Album of the week: Ask AI to make a Sigur Rós album and it would sound a lot like this
Sigur Rós. Photo by Tim Dunk
There has been much turmoil for Iceland’s second most famous music exports — after Björk — in the 10 years since Sigur Rós last released an album. First, they faced a gruelling tax investigation (and were ultimately cleared of wrongdoing). Then drummer Orri Páll Dýrason was accused of sexual assault. He maintains his innocence, but he left the band in the fallout.
The group — led by the singular Jónsi — were in fine form at Dublin’s 3Arena last November and most fans suspected a comeback album was in the offing. Still, there was surprise last week when they announced Átta a day before release. Having set the bar high with early albums Ágætis byrjun and ( ) more than 20 years ago, this eighth offering is magisterial and beautiful in places but also feels a little like a clichéd version of what a Sigur Rós album made by AI might sound like.
Of course, there will be many devotees who will be thrilled that the rule book has not been ripped up. Átta — Icelandic for ‘Eight’ — is unmistakably a Sigur Rós album. Jónsi’s keening, ethereal vocal remains as distinct as ever, but there’s a more maximalist flavour now, thanks in no small part to the presence of the 41-piece London Contemporary Orchestra. There’s very little percussion — unsurprising considering the departure of Dýrason — but there are several moments when tracks could benefit from the addition.
Much of the music is stunningly forceful and uses the full weight of the orchestra, not least on Klettur, which is as epic as anything Sigur Rós have done. Expect it to soundtrack a dramatic sequence in a future David Attenborough nature documentary.
There is no shortage of subtle, gorgeously honed songs also. Ylur is a haunting confluence of strings and Jónsi’s hymnal vocals. There isn’t another set of musicians on the planet it could have come from. The frontman sings a mixture of English, Icelandic and their made-up language, Hopelandic, although only about 400,000 people on earth are likely to be able to tell the difference between the last two.
While there is a great deal to enjoy here, especially when tracks are listened to in isolation, the cumulative effect can be a tad samey. And that certainly wasn’t the case on the early Sigur Rós albums, where Jónsi’s bowed guitar was among their strange and defining sounds.
Átta by Sigur Rós