On September eighteenth, the Icelandic band “Sigur Ros” played at the “Theater for the Living Arts” in Philadelphia. “Sigur Ros” (which means “Victory Rose”) frequently tours the U.S. and Canada in support of their newest album, “Agaetis Byrum” (“a good beginning”).  Their mix of gorgeous melody and Icelandic lyrics make them stand out in an industry filled with boy bands and angst-anthems. This particular show was once in a lifetime.  Unlike any other show that I’ve ever attended, the atmosphere of the crowd was incredibly relaxed.  As the show started, I noticed many people sitting cross-legged on the floor.  The lead singer Jonsi Birgisson walked out under the watery red lights and cheers of the crowd.  Without saying a word, they began to play.

 The show opened with “Vaka,” an unreleased track.   For the first two minutes of the song, it seemed the entire crowd was holding their breath.  Birgisson wandered up to the microphone and began to open his mouth.  As he did, his soft falsetto voice floated towards the ceiling, lifting up the mesmerized audience with it.  At this point in the show, most of the audience started to close their eyes.

As they started “Njosnavelin”, (or “nothing song”) Birgisson took a cello bow off of the mic stand.  He began to play his guitar using the bow instead of his fingers.  Instantly, dark moody groans began seeping from his guitar.

Soon the band was playing “Ny Batteri,” (or “New batteries”). I was particularly impressed with the drums on this song.  As the intro began, drummer Orri Pall Dyrason sat down at his kit.  After minutes of anticipation, he exploded into a thumping beat reminiscent of John Bonham’s work on the Led Zeppelin classic “When the levee breaks”.

 Another highlight was “Olsen Olsen”, with Georg Holm’s bass creating low overtones that vibrated loudly through the entire theater.  At one point during this song, I looked over at the people surrounding me once again.  Everyone had completely stopped moving and talking. Everyone was digesting the art that was being poured into his or her ears.

The song “Svefn-G-Englar” started with reverberating “ping” noises that sound like a lost submarine navigating a seabed.  It was 15 minutes of cascading organ and guitar trances. 

Finally, the highlight of the show was played.  It was the unreleased “Papplagid”, (or “Pop”).  The last 8 minutes were filled with driving drums and a surprisingly a catchy melody.  It was a fitting end for their lengthy two-hour set.  When the song was faded away, the stunned crowd cheered for more.  The four members of “Sigur Ros” all walked out holding hands and bowed gratefully.  The audience continued to cheer and the band walked out again, bowing sheepishly.  No one in the band said a word during the entire show.

 “Sigur Ros” should in no way be compared to any dull “guitar-rock” band.  They do indeed have guitars, but that is where the similarities end.  They do not use stale, overused guitar-riffs to get a point across.  They us subtle organ and soaring vocals to communicate their ideas. The show on September eighteenth was truly a masterpiece.  If you ever get a chance to see this bigger-than-life band, then please do so.  It just may change your life.