Headliners without support acts are a rare thing these days, particularly at a venue as heavily frequented as the Hordern Pavilion. But when that headliner intends to play tracks spanning their entire 18 year career – and boast a lighting rig expansive enough to bring down the state grid – it pays to give them time.
As such, the globally revered Sigur Rós had two and a half hours (with interval) to floor us – far more than Splendour afforded them, which is understandable given their choice of material for the gig.
Folks familiar with Jónsi’s soundtrack work or the band’s brighter output (Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust and Valtari) were in for one hell of a surprise, as the trio focused on building a narrative arc from their most stark, lingering and moody material.
And across the whole event, Jónsi never said a word. Not one.
All of this sounds like a gig gone disastrously wrong, but the atmosphere of disaster and collapse was intentional, rendered with purpose and precision. What Sigur Rós do – and, arguably, do better than their post-rock contemporaries – is conjure the sound of things falling apart, and the result is incomparably moving. The festival is over, the fuse has been lit, and destruction looms.
Four of the group’s post-Kveikur tracks made the cut, each more vast and ominous than the last. Peppered between these were the essentials – ‘Glósóli’ and ‘Sæglópur’, Kveikur’s title track, and the unbearably fragile ‘Festival’ in which Jonsi held a perfect falsetto note for what seemed like an eternity.
People who’ve had near-death experiences talk about being consumed by light; of total physical catharsis. That sensation was Sigur Rós’ closing song.
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The setlist is testament to the group’s determination to return to a more aggressive sound; they are nothing if not empaths soaking in the atmosphere of the era. As Jonsi’s bow flowed across his guitar strings, Georg Hólm and Orri Páll Dýrason grounded his every aural arc in reality. The trio stood amidst a forest of lights, alternately forming tree branches and the limbs of rusted streetlamps in wasted cityscapes.
It was the closing track that elevated the entire experience – ‘Popplagið’, a deep cut from the heavily featured fourth album ( ), and one which transformed the space. The intricate starlike patterns that had flickered in and out became harsh and cold; panels of laser light, formerly warm, were suddenly red and hot. In the space of eleven minutes, as the band seethed to an apocalyptic climax, their entire videoscape became a glitching, epileptic nightmare, pulsing with strobes and dissolving VCR code. Jonsi, elsewhere silent, roared into the crowd as they stood in apopleptic silence.
People who’ve had near-death experiences talk about being consumed by light; of total physical catharsis. That sensation was Sigur Rós’ closing song.
Sigur Rós played the Hordern Pavilion on Tuesday July 25.
