ALBUM: Sigur Rós - Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust

What a fucking mouthful. Anyway, apologies, readers – I haven’t written any reviews for a while due to pre-exam stress, the exams themselves, and the complacency that comes with post-exam relief. That’s my excuse, I’m sticking with it, here's the review so shut up:

The best way to describe the Iceland-borne Sigur Rós would be to use their very own portrayal: ‘a slow-motion rock band’. Very true, but it also leaves too much out – the Sigur Rós canon is a mixture of extremely long tracks, ethereal production and above all, an outstanding disposition toward wonderful melodies. Their music can be playful and nonsensical (sung in their ficticious language ‘Hopelandic’ or not), it can be galaxy-spanning and completely life-affirming, and sometimes it can compromise on some middle ground. After 2005’s ‘Takk…’ enjoyed some true mainstream success with Hoppípolla and Glósóli, latest album ‘Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust’ goes down pretty much the same route, but with a few interesting twists along the way.

Gobbledigook is cleverly the first track, purely for the reason that it makes you wonder if you’ve accidentally picked up some freaky dance-folk shit instead of Sigur Rós. Not the strongest song – in fact pretty poor – but it acts as an energetic opener, leading the way to the awesome Inní mér syngur vitleysingur with its catchy piano line and vocals. The subsequent three tracks blend into one another nicely but without a real sense of exciting individualism, before the middle-eight (in this case, middle-five trillion) of Festival kicks in. A captivating bass line bursts into life unexpectedly, a drum loop rises through the mix, all building to a satisfying climax of a coda. The group cheekily throw in a bit of the meta: a clip of a person whistling the tune to themselves when the music itself has stopped. A bit of humour like this goes a long way, especially when the track reaches the stamina-draining ten minute mark.

Suð í eyrum passes by without so much as a flutter really, a remarkably by-the-numbers Sigur standard. But hark! A touching cascade of piano underneath Jónsi Birgisson's trademark falsetto, a cute lil’ cherub singing about something I’ve no hope to understanding is the basis of Ára bátur. A choir and brass enter to move along proceedings nicely, but it’s not enough to save the remaining four tracks to be incredibly boring. Nice enough to listen to as background music, but Sigur Rós have always been more than that; unfortunately, these songs aren’t the best showcase for this.

Another apology: this album is no match for the others. ‘Ágætis Byrjun’ is a ten-thousand year journey atop an epic glacier; ‘( )’ is a spaceship ride through the unknown; ‘Takk…’ is a wood-side romance in the autumn. ‘Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust’ is an aimless stroll along an overcast Brighton beach by comparison. It’s a work to be relatively proud of, Sigur Rós – yes, I’m talking to you - but you are capable of greater, much greater things. I shall be seeing your live show in the Winter, however. Prove me wrong.

Rating – 6 / 10