sigur rós

a land & soundscape laid itself out in the two hours they took the stage. wide. expansive. spacious. otherworldly. fey. playful. full of despair. humble. delicate and yet so raw and primally alive.

alpha/omega. how wonderfully they walked the line of opposites. everything toeing the edge. heartbreaking harmonies moving nimbly into shattering cacophony. hopelessness and tragedy traversing suddenly into the realm of boundless joy and wonder-full hope.

the song festival is an example of their ability to inhabit the entire spectrum of human emotions. it's a nine and a half minute song that spends the first half a mournful threnody and the second half living the same musical theme in an ecstasy of celebration. i purchased the album a day after my grandfather passed away and spent a good deal of time listening to the first half of the song on repeat. when i was done with the heaviness of grief, the second half of the song was waiting to carry me forward. when they performed it live, there was a beautiful pause in the song that the audience interpreted as their being finished, but i smiled as they rolled over the applause and continued the song. my body knew there was more.

but i'm getting ahead of myself.

it was madness getting down to portland. a two and a half hour drive (at most) was over four hours and all the delays happened at the beginning with no assurances that there wouldn't be further delays. i arrived as the last song of the opening band was played and my shoulders were still rock hard and located somewhere in the region of my ears. not comfortable. but i was in the fourth row just to the right of the center. a lucky last minute ticket that was only slightly above face value. the extended conversation with my neighbor about sigur rós and radiohead {he was also at the auburn show which was 2/3} put me at ease again. i had arrived. i was ready.

the lights lowered. smoke filled the stage and the opening notes of svefn-g-englar welcomed me with the thrill of goosebumps and a rush of barely contained excitement. i texted a friend "here we go" and buckled in for the ride.

the band was wearing a whimsical array of outfits that, for the most part, would have looked at home on the set of stardust. tails. a bowler hat adorned with a feather. jónsi was wearing a mid-thigh coat with buttons i wanted to see up close and a pair of feathers on his head that suggested elf ears whenever he bent over in a gesture of release or genuflection {which he did frequently}. there were sparkles on faces. a silly crown. and a pair of shiny red track pants on the drummer who was brilliant and the only modernly attired member.

they cast a spell that took me in and held me from the first moment and jónsi hadn't opened his mouth.

then he began singing and that was the point of no return.

this man......yeah.

there was something incredibly compelling about his motionless poise in contrast with the soaring acrobatics of his voice as it danced above his body and into my own. perhaps it was the contrast to thom yorke who's genius as a conduit rests as much in his gestures as his vocal chords, but even when jónsi was playing the guitar with his bow, the movements of his arms and body were completely tethered to the purpose of making music with the instrument and were expressive of that act alone. somehow, without being disconnected, the movements didn't distract or take away from the this stillness and collectedness of self. and it emanated from his chest and face and vibrated in the air around him and his economy of movement provided this dias for everything and anything to soar out from his mouth.

a little way into the first song he put the mic to his forehead to amplify the resonance of his head voice which created this sense of space and distance. and toward the end of the song he took it one step further and sang through his guitar. it brought to the sold out concert hall the emptiness of open water and wide spaces of lonely continents. and the last note of svefn-g-englar lasted for eternity. there wasn't enough air in the room to support the duration of that note, and still it continued. the swan song of this amazing first number.

and i realized: as much as i have listened to the music of sigur rós for years, i was not prepared for the experience of jónsi's voice live. i was instantly moved to a place beyond words and often beyond thought. and this was just the first song.

jónsi singing through his guitar

the one song where his movements were my main focus was towards the very end {and it was also the one time in all the summer's concerts where i wanted a zoom lens}. it was the song all alright from their newest album. i think he was most still during this piece and yet his hands, moving between his solar plexus and heart, held so much specific yet unconsciously articulated energy. the fingers were overly straight and the movements slow yet conveying these surges of emotive overload that i still don't have adequate words to create a definition or explanation. i was completely drawn in and curious. a babble of meaningless sign language that is as expressive as his songs in hopelandic. no signifier attached to a signified, yet so much was conveyed. primitive. primal. and universal.

all alright. complete stillness.

the set design was amazing. it was calm and minimalistic after the restless lights of the in rainbows tour {which was a joy of a different flavor}. the minimalism was a light wash of color and tone to the broad canvas of space around them and it altered magnificently with each song. there were blurry videos of people. open landscapes and playful colors yet they all left room and freedom to bring oneself to each song. i quickly discovered i still could not bring enough of myself. i {again} prevented myself from going through the whole show with my self fully open though less painfully than the radiohead tour. but i was able to be very present at first. a grounding rod for lighting begging to be struck.




and lightning hit fairly quickly. the third song was ny batteri and in the first massive crescendo of the concert, the sound completely filled the entire hall. it wasn't a blasting noise of shattering eardrums, but a rush of music that was simultaneously buoyant and submerging. and, in that instant, there was only self and the sound. no breath. no thought. no movement. no distinction even where i ended and the music began. just a sense of a conjoined being that filled the entire concert hall.

i was blissfully submersed in their full glory with a smile helplessly bobbing on my face. it was the most perfect moment of the concert.

and for some reason this expansive sense of self was threatening because that was the point i reined myself in emotionally. not that i didn't let myself feel the rest of the concert, because i did and it was glorious, i just never reached the transcendent and unhindered planes that the first three songs, and particularly this one moment, inhabited. this emotional disassociation is akin to the experience of radiohead {which i still need to finishing writing about} and i'm just now beginning to realize how much it is tied to the desires i have to create these heightened states of being in my own art as well as the desire to create a space for others to experience and navigate. somehow if i don't really let myself feel other people doing what i want to do, even if it's a different medium, i won't be restless or envious.

but i digress.


the one song where his movements were my main focus was towards the very end {and it was also the one time in all the summer's concerts where i wanted a zoom lens}. it was the song all alright from their newest album. i think he was most still during this piece and yet his hands, moving between his solar plexus and heart, held so much specific yet unconsciously articulated energy. the fingers were overly straight and the movements slow yet conveying these surges of emotive overload that i still don't have adequate words to create a definition or explanation. i was completely drawn in and curious. a babble of meaningless sign language that is as expressive as his songs in hopelandic. no signifier attached to a signified, yet so much was conveyed. primitive. primal. and universal.

all alright. complete stillness.

another moment that was pretty fantastic was during the first of two waves of confetti dropped from the ceiling. a laugh burst out of me so unexpectedly, and then continued as a giggle as it rained paper and color. i was giddy. i was delighted. i was five. it was brilliant.

shortly thereafter they invited the opening band on stage and us as an audience to stand and clap for gobbledigook. and we did as an abundance of light and color and confetti and joy poured into the space. it was amazing. the whole crowd was alive and clapped in a frenzy throughout the entire song. no gradual withdrawl of participation that normally happens. we were there. with them in excess, for every beat of the song.

gobbledigook.

my delight in the confetti.
{the orange and red on my shirt is confetti}

i had texted a friend "confetti!" when it first fell, not realizing the earlier message from him saying "grab some confetti" was intended to be literal. his response was "hold on for popplagid" and it was not enough of a warning because the song was bigger than anything imaginable. it was the second song of the encore and followed all alright {one of their quietest songs}. the song runs over ten minutes long and it starts slow, luring you in, and gradually builds. and builds. and builds. and builds further than believable in this minimalistic concert. and not just in sound, but color and light and movement and at it's crescendo, i couldn't even keep my eyes open. the strobes sang to me through my eyelids and flickered their counter rhythm and the sound was massive and i absorbed it through every pore of my body.

..................................................................

their generosity was overwhelming.

and left me filled past the brim.

the winding up of popplagid.

their final genuflection.

humble.
oh so humble.

whenever i think back to the experience of jónsi's voice, i just have this incredible sense of grace and agility and softness and poignancy and magic. i saw the man and i saw his mouth move and i heard the heartbeat of his voice in each audible breath he took, yet my mind still can't wrap around the fact that a human being was able to create those ethereal sounds. it just shouldn't be possible. and somehow it is. and somehow i was given the chance to witness the miracle of his performance. and i am grateful to the muse/music gods for yet another dose of their generosity.


-set list-

svefn-g-englar
glosoli
ny batteri
fljotavik
vid spilum endalaust
hoppipolla
med blodnasir
inni mer syngur
svo hjott
heysatan
saeglopur
festival
gobbledigook
---
all alright
popplagid


{i had a funny moment during hoppipolla where i realized that even if palin becomes president by some nightmarish twist of fate, if there is this much beauty and hope in the world, humanity will be okay.}


currently listening to: live performances of sigur rós on youtube.