 | | Sigur Ros (pic: Andy Stubbs) |
A screen hid the band from view as a perpetual drone ran over the PA, and as the band took the stage, lights behind them projected their 15-foot looming silhouettes. Taking up the opening strains of Glósóli, the scene looked like something from a fairytale. Sigur Rós achieve the almost unparalleled feat of filling their music with so many ideas and letting it flow in countless directions, without erring on the side of overly pretentious. Whether they are pounding drums and fuzzing up bass on Sæglópur, or washing over the shimmering beauty of Olsen Olsen, all is done with honesty and a heart-on-the-sleeve mentality.
 | | Sigur Ros (pic: Andy Stubbs) |
Singer Jón Þór Birgisson, stood completely still, arms firmly at his side, can convey more emotion in his voice alone than any cavorting, gyrating frontman could ever hope to. Yet it is a tribute to the band’s talent that no band member is in one place for long; each playing a multitude of instruments, accompanied by brilliant brass and string sections.
 | | Sigur Ros (pic: Andy Stubbs) |
It came to Untitled #4, most recognisable for its use in Vanilla Sky, to mark the highpoint of the evening. When all the rowdier members had got their whooping and whistling out of the way, mid-song, the band gently eased down, as the sound trailed off, to leave just a xylophone and absolute silence in the audience. Such a wonderfully powerful moment gave immeasurable weight to the song and the performance as a whole. To fill your music with such majesty and bombast, translate it live on such a huge, cinematic scale, and not appear pompous is a truly unique thing. And Sigur Rós are a truly unique band.
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