Reykjavík Grapevine - 05.07.2013, Síða 41

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41
Sigur Rós
Grúska Babúska
Kveikur
2013
www.sigur-ros.co.uk
Songs that make the world weep,
now with running times that suit
late-night talk shows!
Grúska Babúska
2013
www.gruskababuska.com
Grown up people should avoid
It’s hard to believe. Yet—Sigur Rós
is turning twenty. And age takes its
toll: Kjartan Sveinsson, keyboard and
all-around player, has left the band,
making their new album ‘Kveikur’
their first one recorded as a trio since
1997’s debut ‘Von.’
Press surrounding the release
suggests a new beginning, a recon-
stitution, a rougher and tougher
sound; ‘Kveikur’ is being called the
“anti-Valtari” and not without reason.
Titles like “Dauðalogn (“Dead Calm”),
“Varðeldur” (“Bonfire”) and “Ekki
múkk” (“Not a Sound”) definitely
conjure up quieter and less impos-
ing images than “Brennisteinn”
(“Brimstone”), “Stormur” (“Storm”),
“Bláþráður” (“By a Thread”) and
“Hrafntinna” (“Obsidian”). In “Hraf-
ntinna,” the mood is dark and unset-
tling (in translation): “The sky is
burning / fire and brimstone all over
/ petrified hearts / getting colder /
darkness falling / clouds of gray tow-
er above me / the pitch-black devil /
smothers everything.”
During the title track—likely the
apex of the album—distorted drums
and grinding noise that could just
as well have been pulled from Ben
Frost’s mixing console whoosh from
speaker to speaker. When things get
going, Sigur Rós drops the vocals and
raises the temperature until things
boil over in a titanic clash of sound.
One day someone is going to write an
in-depth piece about how Iceland´s
twee/krútt/naivete scene moved from
a musical alternative to the aggres-
sive homogeneity of mainstream cul-
ture to a clichéd consumerist lifestyle
choice used to hawk everything from
mobile phone networks to glacier
tours.
But until then we have the self-
titled debut from Icelandic four-piece
Grúska Babúska. Murmurings from
A
lb
um
Review
s
Your mind involuntarily wanders
towards the eighth and last untitled
track of ‘( )’ (“The Pop Song”), the
explosive song that Sigur Rós’ live sets
have closed with for as long as I can
remember seeing them live. Jónsi, of
course, is first and foremost himself in
his delivery, but there is a new asser-
tiveness to his performance.
But ‘Kveikur’ is only but slightly
overcast. Upon listening to the new
album, one really realises that Sigur
Rós—despite making deities all teary-
eyed and hypnotizing whales so they
fall in love, if one is to accept some of
the reports out there—are primarily a
Pop Band. More often than not, these
are big, epic songs in the tradition of
Chris Martin and Coldplay, songs that
make the world weep, now even with
running times that suit late-night talk
shows. “Stormur” is like pulled from
some hospital or high-school drama,
and I bet “Ísjaki” will feature in a big
budget trailer before long. Hell, “Raf-
straumur” could even be a B-side
from ‘Viva la Vida.’ Even by the end
of lead single “Brennisteinn”—where
distant static slowly morphs into an
all-enveloping buzz complemented by
nasty, greedy, rowdy bass and hun-
dred tonne drums—Sigur Rós is actu-
ally grooving so hard that you reach
for your pair of dance shoes. It should
be mentioned that Orri Páll Dýrason,
Sigur Rós’ drummer, is the star of the
show; his percussive magic is mixed
right up front—where it should be—
throughout the album.
Sigur Rós took their first steps
towards a more accessible sound on
‘Takk’... and they really push things
further in this direction with ‘Kveikur.’
Some fans of ‘Ágætis byrjun’ and ‘( )’
may be fine with this, others will not.
Even though ‘Kveikur’ mostly contains
music that doesn’t quite seize me in
the way Sigur Rós’ earlier material did,
I am very happy to hear them move
away from the saccharine sentimen-
tality that weighed their three previ-
ous albums down. Because, if you’ve
ever seen Sigur Rós live, you know that
when they feel like rocking out, like
rocking hard, like slaying—they do.
‘Kveikur’ serves as a reminder of the
rougher side of a band that is perhaps
often mislabelled as a tad too soft.
- Atli Bollason
the band and their admirers have
called their music “otherworldly,”
“wonky,” and “feminine.” And listen-
ing to this EP, you could say that these
descriptive words are correct, if your
idea of otherworldly and feminine is
reductive to the point of infantilism.
Everything about this EP is child-
like to the point of affected regres-
sion. The music contains all the usual
twee accoutrements from the ukulele
to twinkly children’s toys to the hor-
ribly mouse-y vocals. But everything
is so sonically polite and cloying that
it doesn’t come across as magical
or otherworldly. The wonky-ness of
songs such as “Mid” actually feel safe
and conservative.
Funnily enough, when they tone
down such nonsense, on “Bur” for
instance, they’re capable of making
music that threatens to make good on
their claims with thick synth sounds
mixing with clean flute lines before
moving into a decent chant-along.
‘Grúska Babúska’ wouldn’t work as
a children’s album, but that’s not the
point is it? These are adults playing
as child savants, making music mar-
keted to adults who prefer to see the
world in a state of cosseted infancy.
- Bob Cluness
Music
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nominations to editor@grapevine.is to be consid-
ered. We will read them, post them to our website
and print the best one come next January.
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must have visited Iceland in 2013.
Submit your entry at www.touristoftheyear.is
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