Sigur Ros with Wordless Music Orchestra

By Emerson Witherspoon

Arriving at Bass Concert Hall to see Sigur Rós perform was a spectacle in itself. All sorts of people of different ages and backgrounds hustled to make it to their seats in time, some in jeans on a casual outing with their family, while others sported full scale tuxedos and gowns for a date night out. The stage looked almost candlelit, with orbs of light akin to something in a banquet hall of a fantasy movie, accentuating the spell-like charm of the space and music. Once bows began to hit strings, and Jonsi’s voice began to fill the room, the crowd’s attention was on the stage and everything else became silent. 

The band opened with the second song, “Blóðberg” off of their newest album, ÁTTA. Goosebumps are the only thing I felt as the music began to flood the space. It’s difficult to describe the sounds Sigur Rós manages to produce, however I think the word that best captures the feel of the night is transcendent. About half way through the first act, as one of my personal favorite songs, “Andvari" came on, I couldn’t help but close my eyes and almost feel myself floating, feeling the breeze around an Icelandic fjord. 

We often hear the phrase “my life flashed before my eyes” with a negative connotation, but I believe that I experienced it positively for maybe the first time in my life while listening to Sigur Rós play. Hearing the twinkling notes of the bells, along with the wave-like flows and the transitions between rhapsody and tenderness from the strings, I felt like it was experiencing live music for the first time all over again. The soft and sweet rendition of “Starálfur” felt like a lullaby from childhood, and the blue wash over the stage evoked feelings of infancy and nostalgia similar to the album cover of Ágætis Byrjun. I’ll admit as many others I talked to during intermission did, I shed a fair amount of tears. From what I’ve gathered, no one could help it. Something about Sigur Rós generates an emotional reaction from people from all walks of life, which was evident from the subtle sniffles from the crowd as the lights came up and everyone was brought back to reality. I talked to a woman who has been a fan for years, and she told me that it was her fiances’ first time hearing the band, yet they were both moved with the same intensity. 

At the start of Act II, returning from the noise and chaos of the lobby to be cradled by the soft piano and strings in “Untitled #1: Vaka” was like re-entering a portal into a fantasy world. Throughout Act, I was pleasantly surprised to hear some of the group’s older songs like “Heysátan” and “Sé Lest” from Takk, or “All Alright” from Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust.  I appreciated the band’s inclusion of so many different albums and the consideration to provide something for everyone. Ending the night with “Hoppípolla” into an orchestral take on “Avalon” felt like something out of a dream. It was reminiscent of an uplifting march to the finish line, one final push to the dreaded end of the show. The audience clung to the encore like warm sheets on a cold morning as the band gave a heartwarming goodbye and the house lights rose. From what I gathered by speaking to fellow audience members as I exited the concert hall, everyone left with one thing in common: Sigur Ros’ sonically haunting performance had moved us all, and the show was one we’d never forget.