Customer Reviews

Agaetis Byrjun

5 star:		(228)
4 star:		(30)
3 star:		(17)
2 star:		(12)
1 star:		(16)

 

 

With nearly 300 reviews of this CD already written, and no one but the most deranged fan willing to read more than a few, why add another? Well, because I suspect there are listeners other than myself who look and listen and wonder how to decipher all the woozy praise or hysterical hatred. Besides, of course, buying the darn thing and listening.

I have been a fan of Sigur Ros for over 4 years, having been exposed to them by my daughter, who thought this right up my alley. And she was blindingly right. I have witnessed them twice live. This is amazing stuff. Now, not everything they do is amazing....some of it is rather pedestrian. Tedious. A little embarrassing. Even Mozart wrote uninteresting music. But there is nothing dull on this CD. It is transcendent and intoxicating. Their consistently best work to date.

I do not believe snippets or scraps can really capture what this can do. You need to immerse yourself into the world they create, a sonic palace of bizarre digital noises and weird little drones, a wispy little vocalist and a breathtakingly brilliant percussionist, and savor it all. Unlike anything else, and unrelated to anything else, it stands on its own as something worth experiencing and enjoying.

Sigur Ros is like a Jackson Pollack painting. Often when you look at a Pollack, not a print but the real thing, you wonder what the heck he thought he was up to. He got paid for that? But sometimes Pollack hit it perfectly; he took the same old swirls and drips and spatters on every painter's dropcloth and produced something gorgeous and permanent. This CD has all winners on it, a flow and a movement using the the most elementary, and often most repetitive, little sounds and weaving and blending them into a tapestry of endlessly surprising and often unimaginable beauty.

Reports suggest that Sigur Ros is from Iceland, but if they ended up being from Pluto, or some far off galaxy, it wouldn't be surprising. Nor would it make any difference. Agaetis Byrjun, a hypnotic siren song of an album, glides in as if delivered by an advanced alien civilization. Warmer and fuller than any of Radiohead's attempts at moody, ambient music, Agaetis Byrjun would suggest the future of music if you actually believed anyone else on earth was talented enough to replicate its unique sound (no one is).

After a beautiful appetizer of an intro, the album goes right into the epic "Svefn-G-Englar" (try saying that 10 times fast), 10 minutes that may as well last a lifetime. It sounds like a submarine maneuvering through a newly discovered celestial body. Relaxing, powerful, and touching all at once, it sets the tone for the rest of what follows. "Staralfur" follows, a track as hopeful as a newborn child's birth. Listening to it is as cathartic as My Bloody Valentine's shimmering wave of feedback from ten years ago. After the demise (or hibernation) of that band, it's wonderful to see a new band trying to bring rock music to an entirely different level.

Scared of the language barrier? Don't be. Like any opera, the emotion comes through regardless of whether or not you can understand the words. From the dazzle of "Svefn-G-Englar" to the Celtic waterfall of "Olsen Olsen," Sigur Ros bursts with feelings of hope, despair, happiness, sadness, and all points in between, perhaps even creating new emotions as they go along. It's an incredible achievement, not likely to be matched by anybody anytime soon. Unless you count the band itself, but they may have moved on to another solar system by then.

I stumbled into Sigur Ros after someone on a messageboard I frequent was expressing excitement about their then-upcoming third album ( ), which I bought the day it was released stateside. I was duly impressed, but it was after I bought Agaetis Byrjun that the band really sunk it's claws into me.

For an album who's songs stretch up into the the ten minute range, this is a very accessable record. The instrumentals are soothing yet intense, often at the same time (think Kid A-era Radiohead), as this is very much mood music. Pianos interweave with bowed electric guitars, fingerpicked acoustics, moderate percussion, keyboard melodies, etcetera. One song (Olsen Olsen, I believe) even has a somewhat dischordant orchestral bombast.

As far as the vocals, Jonsi has a beautiful falsetto (no one I play this for believes that's a guy at first), and even though I don't understand the lyrics (they are Icelandic after all), I like the tonal quality of them.

To a point, Vanilla Sky did for Sigur Ros what Benny & Joon did for the Proclaimers: gave an unknown band stateside a few minutes in the spotlight. Given, Sven-g-Englar (which loosely translates to Sleepwalkers I think), the song on the VS soundtrack, is one you hear people going on about a lot. The standout, in my opinion however, is the title track, Agaetis Byrjun (A Good Beginning). Both are fantastic songs, though, and the rest of the album isn't much behind.

So yes. If you're in the mood for a three minute pop hook, obviously you would do well to look elsewhere. If you're willing to invest a little patience, however, Agaetis Byrjun is a top cut. Let it wash over you and see where it takes you.

I'm sorry.

Did I rate it 1 star? I meant 5.

Curious to see on what grounds something so directly and obviously beautiful as this CD could be disliked, I scanned all the negative reviews here to date. Aside from the one respectable negative reviewer--from Iceland--who simply and honestly declared that he "just doesn't get it," I noticed a rather amusing pattern. Intriguingly, there is the nearly universal employment of the word "pretentious" somewhere in the review. This is coupled with the nearly universal pretentiousness of the negative reviews (endless namedropping, amateurish "rock-reviewer" posing, and even some music "biz" kibbitzing, as if they were addressing a stockholder's meeting). The earliest negative review is the paradigm: Devon Reed manages to use the adjective "pretentious"--without irony--in a review that not only contains a quote from Pauline Kael, but attempts to coin the idiotic word "overwhelmingness." I can think of few more pretentious exercises than to dress up one's gut dislike for a work of art with bloated prose about "influences" and solemn pronouncements on the state of contemporary music.

The verdict seems clear: if you are a pretentious--that's right, pretentious--would-be rock critic who has spent years cultivating a refined musical dyspepsia as a replacement for ears, and whose tastes serve as a pseudointellectual identity badge entitling you to whine about people who find beauty where you don't, then stay away from Sigur Ros. You know who you are, and you paradoxically risk a dangerous blood-pressure spike whenever you listen to anything deliberately tranquil. However, if you are just about any other stripe of human, there's a good chance you'll be pleasantly hypnotized by this simply beautiful CD.

If you follow music closely enough to have heard of Sigur Ros, buy this album if you can find it. This album is one of the most beautiful soundscapes I've ever heard, sounding somewhat like shoegazing evolving to its most beautiful level possible. Even though they use little more than a basic 4 piece rock band, with an occasional extra instrument, it sounds bigger than your local philharmonic. Add the who-would-believe-that's-a-male siren vocals of Jon Por Birgisson, to complete the sound. It's hard to listen to this album and not feel like you are not only listnening to something entirely new and unworldly, but also in some entirely unfamiliar awe inspiring landscape.

Comparisons to godspeed you black emperor! have been frequent, but while both bands are are concerned about Art with a capital A, Sigur Ros makes sure the art is obvious in the music, unlike godspeed who want you to think there is a lot going on you don't understand. The best comparison I can think of is if the Dirty Three were determined to be the greatest, or at least grandest, Rock band ever. While post-rock may be the closest label to try to fit on Sigur Ros, it ignores their passion, rather easily accessible beauty, and even the vaguely anthemic quality of some of the songs.

Near the end of 2000 in many best-of-the-year lists, music critics started raving about an unknown band from Iceland with some kooky name you could barely pronounce who had apparently put out an album that was supposedly one of the most amazing records anyone would ever hear. Right before that, Thom Yorke of Radiohead had sung the praises of this band, and by the beginning of 2001, both hipster wannabe's and obsessive Radiohead fans alike desperately sought out the album by Sigur Ros, if only to display it as their own Badge of Hipness, the one thing that would tell them they were cool.

And I was one of those people, I'm sorry to say. I had barely heard of the band, but since December 2000 I had been trying to find the cd in record stores, with no success, feeling somewhat gullible searching for a cd that some lousy writers said was great. What the heck did they know? Well, I have to say, after listening to Agaetis Byrjun countless times, all that hype was warranted.

Simply put, this is one of 2000's best albums, perhaps one of the best of this young decade. Pick your adjective: ethereal, enigmatic, sensuous, ambient, trancelike...those have been the buzzwords describing Sigur Ros, but not one word can pin down the sound. Slow beats, bowed guitars, beautiful orchestration, and the otherworldly (there's another buzzword) vocal talents of Jon Por Birgisson (which echo Yes's Jon Anderson) make this album sound like it was sent to us from another planet. Every song is a standout, from the cult favourite 'Svefn-g-Englar' to the string-accompanied 'Staralfur' to the sing-along melody of 'Olsen Olsen'. Although it's seventy-one minutes long, not a second sounds wasted.

The lyrics and song titles add to the album's mystery: it's all in Icelandic, except for 'Olsen Olsen', which is sung in an Icelandic-English-jibberish hybrid the band dubs "Hopelandic". Besides, Sigur Ros insis the lyrics don't mean anything anyway; it's the overall feel of the music that counts. And it's you're reaction to this music that truly defines the sound of Agaetis Byrjun...some may say it's dark, some may say it sounds bleak, but when you listen carefully to the layers of music on this most stunning record, the true definition begins to surface until you're smiling in beatific reverie: life-affirming.

This is less a review of _Ágætis Byrjun_ (OW-guy-tis bi-r-yun ['u' is like the "eu" in "deux". 'ow' should rhyme with the "ou" from "loud".]) than a handy guide for those of you who want to be especially snobbish (or "enlightened," ahem) when describing your new favorite ambient wunderband. I have for many years said 'See-gur Rohs' when name-dropping the band. I was surprised to learn when visiting their official website I had been wrong. Here is the scoop: "Sigur Rós; si-ur rose (the 'i' is like the i in "hit". "rose" is said very quickly)." So, no "g" at all. Amaze all your horn-rimmed-glasses-wearing friends with this knowledge. There is a full pronunciation page (http://sigur-ros.co.uk/band/pronunci.php) with the guide to all their most popular song titles and even a "general icelandic pronunciation guide" for those awkward times when you have job interviews with all the Jónsis, Birgissons, Kjartans, and Sveinssons of the world. My two cents: The album is amazing... 'Svefn-g-englar' & 'Starálfur' worth the price of admission alone. Guessing by the timing of my 'review,' most of you looking at this are also contemplating the purchase of _Takk..._ as well, and I could not more strongly recommend it without pulling the debit card out of your pocket for you. It is more traditionally structured (translation: it's got more straight-up songs, man!) but still has all the atmospherics and ethereal soundscapes that made you love them to begin with... so just save yourself the trouble and get 'em all (Von, Ágætis Byrjun, ( ), & Takk...). +=!?

there's little i can say about this album that isn't written already in copious amounts, but i'll make an effort. i copied it to an md from my friend's cd while i was living in tokyo, and it really colored and shaded the subway trip to and from university in the most unique way. there is nothing like getting lost in a brilliant album and looking around at human mass. the helter-skelter, rapid-run pace of those around me was countered by the slow melodies and soaring whines. it didn't hurt that i was an alien (granted, a legal one), and the spacey feel of the music seemed to put me in my right place. the dings and chimes and sparks and moans became the beauty. gorgeous, lush (and stirkingly minimal), a full on aural experience, and one that can compliment your other senses in a most peculiar way. i strongly recommend this, especially to those who are beyond the 3 minutes pop song format.

After introducing many listeners to their distinct sound by way of the "Vanilla Sky" sountrack album, Icelandic quartet Sigur Rós (pronouned "Seer Rose" with the R's rolled) has built a following interested in expanding their tastes in music and virtually elimintaing insomnia. Agaetis Byrjun (pronounced "Ow-gate-is Beeryune"), the band's third overall album to date, is their masterpiece. It is the ultimate realization of the spectrum of human emotion, and, when accompanied by candles and a good pair of headphones, proves as an adequate cure for sleep deprevation. The band's instrumentation is relatively simple: vocals, guitar, bass, drums, and keyboards/synthesizers. The miracle of this is the otherworldly sound channeled through these instruments and into the ears, heart, and soul of the listener.
The album begins with an intro, roughly a minute long, which resembles an underwater choir singing an irresistable refrain, chopped and repeated by the loopwork of keyboardist Kjartan Sveinsson. It slowly travels into the now-famous "Svefn-G-Englar"(Sleepwalkers) by way of the repeating ping of a sonar detector and the rumbling of an underwater submarine. The two songs together serve as an exposition to a much grander scheme, but it is here that we are introduced to Sigur Rós' distinctive blend of angelic vocals, channeling bass work, etherreal percussion, and quite possibly the most beautiful guitar feedback ever recorded, by way of guitarist/vocalist Jonsi running a cello bow along the strings. From this, the listener is transported into the stellar "Staralfur" by way of a rapidly drumming heartbeat. From first listen, one is compelled to make a nighttime trip to an open field to gaze at a star-painted sky, revelling in the sheer beauty of life.
Next is the hypnotic "Flugufrelsarinn", brought in by a combination of wind and guitar screeching. The song borderlines erotica, and is as irresistable as it is trance-inducing. Brass hummings bring in "Ny Batteri", a song that is altogether more melancholy in its scope as compared with the rest of the album. It's as if the band is lost in its own emotional maelstrom, struggling to find any signs of light. A peephole is found in the jazz-like "Hjartad Hamast", which sounds like Miles Davis as interpreted by a Martian. The peephole then tears, to become the rejuvenation that is "Vidrar Vel Til Loftarasa". The longest song on the album, it is arguably the most beautiful, shifting through 4 main phrases all in one swift, breathtaking motion.
Now that the rejuvenation has been found, it is time for the youthful abandon that is "Olsen Olsen". The timely, enchanting bass riff guides the listener through a dark forest leading to a meadow, filled with a grand choir encircling a lone flutist. Immediately following is the smile-inducing title track, "Agaetis Byrjun". The guitar intro fades in from nothing, and the divine instrumentation makes the listener think of the same. A flying kite comes to mind in this song. As for "Avalon", the closer, nothing will be disclosed. It serves as a final farewell to the listener, tucking them in goodnight, and letting them rest assured that life is indeed filled with beauty, if they would only allow their ears to hear it.
Simply put, this is one of the most beautiful albums ever made. Sigur Rós is a band not easily dismissed. Agaetis Byrjun is an experience not easily forgotten. Your ears, mind, heart, soul, and eyelids will love you forever.

Sitting down and offering a review of this band seems almost futile, and nearly worthless. What they have produced here and on ( ) is art that is absolutely amazing, and is as different from popular music as chopin is from good charlotte. What they are doing feels almost as important, and as REAL, as those high, symphonic constructions. There is little I can say that hasn't already been said. The "lyrics" aren't really lyrics; they are sung in Hopelandic, a made up language, and really they feel more like spontaneous emissions of sound than anything else. but they are still able to, and perhaps are even more effective at triggering emotion in the listener because of this. we are not able to try and analyze the individual words, and to even look for the meaning of what is being conveyed is hard and perhaps even pointless. It's almost like looking at the myths of other cultures, where you haven't been conditioned to see them as fact instead of metaphor. they speak with new significance, they are electric. just let it enfold you. close your eyes and be swept away by the rolling waves of gorgeous sound. and smile, that we as humans can produce something this beautiful. To call this work and band pretentious, as many have, does not make sense. I can't even attack the position because i fail to comprehend it. It is terribly far from it. Many people will not enjoy this album, and that is a sad state of affairs that we find ourselves in...but for those intrepid few who are willing to actually get something out of their music, and are willing to perhaps challenge themselves somewhat, buy this album and support this amazing band!
BK