Sigur Ros 'Valtari' Review

           Sigur Ros is hard to describe.  When one dwells upon the music of the Icelandic post-rock band, many words seem to jump out at you; soft, joyful, and most obviously, beautiful.  But the sum of these words alone do not even come close to capturing what it is that fans and casual listeners alike find in the music.
           'Valtari', Sigur Ros' latest contribution, is no different from other albums in that it is indescribable.  Not indescribable as in the trite way of calling it beautiful (which, yeah it is), but rather that it seems an impossible task to put a finger on what about the music is so entrancing.  The mystery in the album seems to be that though we try, no long winded metaphors seem to capture it.
             Although those that do listen seem to be in love with the band, the music is not immediately accessible to the casual listener.  But maybe this is part of it, taking a big leap out of your comfort zone with only faith that Sigur Ros will catch you.  This sentiment is more true with 'Valtari' than ever before.  The album lacks the tangible melodies found in Takk and ( ), and instead replaces them with textures and minimalistic ambiance.  Although this post rock setting is not new for the band, the stillness of the last 3 songs will pass right over you as if they were never there.  The title of the album, 'Valtari', which translates to 'steamroller' is not far off in describing the album.  Slow, almost glacial progressions roll by, flattening all in their path. As lead singer Jonsi Birgisson puts it, "The album rolls right over you, in a good way."
             The music is atmospheric.  And like the wind, it is strong at times and barely detectable at others, yet as it passes you, you know it is there.  The warm strings that are heavy throughout the album fill the silence with intangible noise; as if mother nature had a voice and she spoke through Sigur Ros.  This is most noticeable in the early released track, Ekki Mukk.  As Birgisson's falsetto voice calls out, the strings fill out all the space behind him.
              The album reaches its climax in the third track, Varuo, when all the scattered noise comes together with the drums and builds to an epic conclusion reminiscent of prior hits such as Glosoli and Festival.  One of my favorite tracks on the album, Dauologn, comes soon after as though to recover from the clattering apex of Varuo.  This ballad emphasizes Jonsi's unique voice and lifts it up on clouds of textured strings and guitars.  When his voice steps up an octave, the noise flows in and out with  vacillating pulses.
             We have all had those moments when we feel so peaceful we are almost brought to tears.  Whether it be when you are driving alone with windows rolled down not a thought on your mind, or sitting in a park in pure bliss; 'spiritual' does not do these justice and they can only be described as 'moments'.  Sigur Ros has a gift of capturing these moments and providing the soundtrack.  The music creeps up on you and gets inside of you.  There are times in the album that leave the stomach empty as if you were falling from the sky in slow motion.  And although this album is not, at first listen, accessible like many of the past have been, it is one that with time will present its beauty.  It is not the album that you will play for others when showing them the band, or the album you will throw on in the car when you want to sing along; rather it is the album that you will fall in love with, and if you let it, if you take the trust fall, will change you.