Welcome to “No Skips,” a spiritual successor to Raquel Montelindo’s column from last semester! I’ll be your new host, where we’ll discuss music albums of the highest caliber that maintain unparalleled quality and consistency throughout their runtimes and can therefore be considered to contain no skips within their track lists. Today, we’ll be praising a record that may surprise some based on my recent opinions of their frontman’s newest album.
The 1999 classic “Ágætis byrjun” by post-rock group Sigur Rós is a feat nearly impossible to surpass for the band or its lead vocalist, Jónsi, in his solo discography. Despite its now 25 years of age, the 71-minute album is sure to calm you and give respite from any frustrating situation by enveloping you in its world of serenity. The cover’s resemblance to the fetus from Stanley Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey” further draws the parallel that this piece of media will take you to another world, albeit not for long enough.
Before we get onto the music, I‘ll preface that most of the song titles will be provided in English for clarity, and I tend not to critique songs that are interludes, intros or outros with the same lens as I do with full tracks. For example, “Intro” on this album is essentially a portion of the title track in reverse speed (by the way, “Ágætis byrjun“ translates to “A good beginning,”) while the last track, “Avalon,” uses slowed audio from “Staring Elf.” They’re not playlist-worthy, selections yet they certainly don’t detract from the listening experience, so they get a pass.
“A Pun of Sleepwalkers and Sleep Angels” is a noisy start, with cacophonous guitars and Jónsi’s heavenly crooning battling for attention. There are even moments where Jónsi’s notes and the howling guitar chords are in sync with each other (likely not a coincidence since Jónsi does most of the guitar work for the band).
The dichotomy of the instruments’ dynamics and Jónsi’s soft-spoken demeanor is a good tone setter for this album, though “Starting Elf” steals the show as the album’s climax, regardless of its placement as the third song. The infectious violin passages carry a cinematic feel that, when paired with Jónsi’s singing, is peak music. The track develops with digital and bouncy sounds that remind me of Björk’s “Homogenic” from 1997, another Icelandic album that Sigur Rós undoubtedly heard before recording “Ágætis byrjun.”
The acoustic finish to “Staring Elf” segues into “Savior of the Fly,” where the band’s drummer at the time, Ágúst Ævar Gunnarsson, uses brushes on his drums to subdue the song to a degree. The drums aren’t very prominent on this record, and this could be because Gunnarson left the band after “Ágætis byrjun,” only to be replaced for their next record in 2002. Nevertheless, “Savior…” is a meditative track that exemplifies how you don’t need to understand a singer’s language to find meaning in their music.
“New Batteries” finds Sigur Rós introducing their love for Radiohead, which might have been a shot in the dark to claim if they hadn’t opened on tour with Radiohead at least once in 2000. The song is great though, and any lulls in the track list or songs that are derivative of other bands help in the album’s cause to calm the listener, so it gets a thumbs-up from me.
“The Heart Pounds (Boom Boom Boom)” features upbeat organ notes colliding with swirling electric guitars before Jónsi gets up close and personal with the microphone, eventually closing with a passage of noise.
“It’s Good Weather for Airstrikes” may sound political at first, but the song and music video don’t really reflect such sentiments. The piano takes two minutes, the strings take another minute and by the time Jónsi comes in halfway through the 10-minute track, it turns into an ending similar to “New Batteries.” Overall, it’s another peaceful track laden with moving pieces that somewhat rivals the song structure of “A Day in the Life” by the Beatles, without much discussion of conflict.
“Olsen Olsen” may as well be called “Opera Opera” due to its orchestral sound, reminding me of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” in a modern sense. The song is reduced to the main melody played with a woodwind instrument by the end, as the angelic title track comes in. The acoustic guitar and light snare drums complement Jónsi’s most youthful singing on the record. A bit of anguish on his part makes for a lullaby with a powerful emotional backdrop that, when paired with the final track and “Intro” gives the full album a cyclical structure: The cycle of life continues.
Finally, I know I bashed Jónsi’s album “First Light” for its lack of vocals, but upon further listening, “Avalon” and its role as an ambient cut concludes the record works perfectly. I have yet to listen to the rest of Sigur Rós’ discography, yet that fact shows how powerful of a standalone record this is that I can name it one of my favorite albums of all time without knowing Icelandic or the rest of the band’s music. At the end of the day, it’s all about the vibes.