The Cinematic Orchestra Presents: In Motion #1 - Various Artists

Track list:

1. Necrology - The Cinematic Orchestra
2. Lapis - Austin Peralta
3. Outer Space - Dorian Concept & Tom Chant
4. Dream Work - Dorian Concept & Tom Chant
5. Entr'acte - The Cinematic Orchestra
6. Regen- Gary Reverend
7. Manhatta - The Cinematic Orchestra

Running time: 79 minutes
Released: 2012

I love The Cinematic Orchestra. There is something about their style of modern jazz that clicks for me. I am not sure that this will exemplify that though, as it is not really a Cinematic Orchestra album - a greater number of the tracks are contributed by others. I don't remember this one at all really, so it's a step into the unknown a little.

This is a collection of 7 long pieces, soundtracks to short films I think. The opening track is the shortest at over 8 minutes, so I anticipate plenty of time to reflect over the next hour and a half. There are 4 tracks in the middle by invitees, but the album is bookended by the Cinematics. Necrology gets us underway with an assertive rhythm-led piece, keys sparkling above it, light touch space forming around it. As we hit the halfway mark there is a more fully formed melody that shares the track with the drum riff, when suddenly both drop out giving a pause for breath, a sense of wonder and reverence. When the tune picks up again, the drum influence is gone for a while; it rejoins, softer than before, still central, but not as dominant.

I have to say, I rather like it. It doesn't have the same instinctive appeal as the works that drew me to The Cinematic Orchestra in the first instance, but it is very much enjoyable.

Austin Peralta's piece, Lapis, is more strings and classical forms. My initial impressions are so-so. Nice enough but not compelling. That feeling persists 3 minutes in, and whilst the track starts to grow it isn't stirring any great emotion in me as I sit with my breakfast and (decaf) coffee. The first point the tune really grabs my attention is 2/3rds of the way through, it goes still, sparse; every note more important for that. Alas, it is dealing with really high ranges, at which I find the strings more of a screech than a pleasant sound. The overall effect of the piece is pastoral. Whilst those straining high notes introduce a tension to it, that tension is quickly sliced through and comes at the expense of me being thrown out of whatever picture I conjured to the tune prior. From there, we head into space...

My first thoughts about this first of two contributions from composers Dorian Concept and Tom Chant are... well, it doesn't really sound that space-like. Devoid a visual to accompany, this feels decidedly less space-like than, say, Mogwai's Atomic does, to pick something I had cause to listen to part of recently. The disconnect between the title and the actual tune grows wider when a horn pipes up and takes centre-stage. Despite that, I find that the tune is sliding by quite fast, certainly not dragging or feeling unwelcome. Unfortunately I miss the rest of the track as I find that I need to fiddle with my bike lights, charging by USB, as I will be cycling later. Bloody USB splitter was only directing any power to one of them, so I had to play about, unplug my mouse and get them both charging that way. Ugh.

Ironically, Dream Work has plenty of the spacey sounds that Outer Space was lacking, an effect conveyed by soft electronic edges to many of the sounds, and a lot more room to breathe around the major themes. For all that, I don't find myself enchanted by it, there are hard edges to a lot of the sounds - the horns in particular - and it is a touch disjointed for me. It feels like the roomy sounds, smooth strings and the staccato horns are all from different compositions that just happen to be overlaid and playing concurrently. This track does feel like it is dragging by the time it starts to wrap up, to be replaced by a 20 minute epic from the Cinematics. I am grateful for the shift.

The opening of Entr'acte is very soft, quiet and understated. When the sound does rise, it is clear that whilst The Cinematic Orchestra might be the artist credit, this is not in the same vein as most of their work. The long drawn out string notes are nice, the sense of space is very much in keeping with their other work, but this is not a lush jazzy sound. This is a mood piece more reminiscent of a Vangelis or a Sigur Rós; I find myself thinking of Soil Festivities in some places, and the general feel of the Icelandic group's quieter tracks at others.

About 6 and a half minutes in there is a shift in tone, it gets a little darker and more tense. That feeling is intensified as we get a creeping bass sound, which is then overlaid by a sort of shredded pulse sound that I cannot work out. Sounds build around this unsettling centre and it swells until we hit a clear call of a note. Then silence. A piano - a melody like To Build a Home from Ma Fleur. Stirring, beautiful. This sits in the middle of the piece, a clear shift from what went before. I don't think this is really one piece in any real sense. The silences between movements belie that. The melody grows into something only to then immediately die out and shrink back. Strings come to swell the overall sound, but at the same time restore that love of the note unplayed, which seems to be a feature of Cinematics compositions.

This time we get a nice crescendo, a real sense of something building up, a subtle groove to the tune, jazz drumming under the classical swell. Oh yes. The top end gives out to frenetic strings as the drums grow in volume and pace. Those strings open out into more beautiful long notes, contrasting with the tight, breathy drums. The latter half of this piece has been top notch... as I say that we hit a snag in the last couple of minutes, as it turns into a twee little ramble then ends on a dark discord. All a little out of place. That detracts from the brilliance of minutes 12-18 in an unfortunate way, but cannot spoil my overall impression of the piece.

Two to go, and another 20 minutes. The Grey Reverend track, Regen, is also credited as a J. Swinscoe (the driving force behind the Cinematics) composition in my file metadata but I have no idea whether this is true. Googling Grey Reverend shows him to be another Ninja Tune artist, a collaborator with The Cinematic Orchestra, and a guitarist. That makes sense as the centrepiece of Regen is a guitar melody which acts as the frame to hang some emotional strings from. The tune meanders along pleasantly but unremarkably, then drops dead at around 7 minutes. It starts again very different, again re-enforcing the idea that these aren't really single tracks. The guitar is sharper, crisper, in this new tune, it stands more or less alone this time, there are other sounds there but they are distinctly second-fiddle and subservient. It is gentle, a stroll, though there seem to be the odd stray notes here and there that make it less comforting than I feel it should be. I don't dislike this piece at all, but at the same time I find it hard to really like, too.

The final piece, back in the hands of the Cinematic Orchestra, is very much movie-music. You feel like the track title is missing the final n, but the piece reflects nothing of Manhattan to me (though I've only been there the once; what do I know) so I wonder if that is meant to be an association we draw or not. The tune is nice, if not enthralling, but I have to admit I find my attention wandering. This has been a long listen and whilst it has been primarily positive, much of it is not the kind of thing you really get into, you know? The tracks are too long for that, and they are cut adrift a little without the visuals they were meant to accompany. As such I feel a tinge of gladness as the final refrains kick in then die down. There is a time and a place for these tunes, and I don't really feel that that is one after the other like this.

Break it Yourself - Andrew Bird

Track list:

1. Desperation Breeds
2. Polynation
3. Danse Carribe
4. Give It Away
5. Eyeoneye
6. Lazy Projector
7. Near Death Expereince Expereince
8. Things Behind The Barn
9. Lusitania
10. Oprheo Looks Back
11. Sifters
12. Fatal Shore
13. Hole In The Ocean Floor
14. Belles

Running time: 60 minutes
Released: 2012

Whistling man time. That's how I think of Andrew Bird, even if it doesn't necessarily reflect in all of his works. My introduction to him was a track that had a lot of him whistling and so he is forever described.

This album starts with a jolt - a discordant noise startles me as I press play, before it settles into the sort of soft acoustic fare I would expect from Bird, his voice lying above a simple little melody. Arguably his pieces are better in the bridges, away from the vocal. There those simple ditties become more elaborate tapestries of a variety of sounds, all of which are fairly relaxing, fairly straightforward, but which mesh really well. That said, Desperation Breeds has a couple of really sharp tones and warbles which are a little too high and too acute for my taste. It is the end of a week off and I have come over all tired and despondent about going back to work tomorrow. Or rather about not having really managed to achieve enough whilst off. I completed and checked off a number of tasks, but some key goals for the week remain unmet even whilst unconsidered items got tackled. This post is me running away from any more, into something I promised myself I would find time for.

Polynation is a weird little interlude before the third track. Danse Carribe has a nice gentle flow to it, strings and guitar with drums. It has a pastoral air to begin with before sounds that I guess approximate steel drums with other instruments and lend the name pop up, along with our first instance of whistling on the record. It then morphs into a folky dance number. Overall it is a bit of a hodge-podge of a tune, but a very pleasantly diverting one. This sort of meandering number is typical of what drew me to Bird's music. This is, of course, not the first time he has appeared on this page. Bird's style is idiosyncratic, I can't really say I have anything else quite like this - wandering all over the place. Give It Away is staccato to the point of obnoxiousness for a large part of its run, but it is tailed by a lovely little tune and duet.

There is another different tone at the start of the oddly-named Eyeoneye, a more standard structure in some ways. This is the track that gives the album its name, a song about self-heartbreak? More whistles in the middle of it, but that quirk aside the form of the song could easily be any number of other artists, but the style... I can't quite decide whether I like it a lot or whether I am bored by it. It wavers between brilliance and a flatness that I can't quite describe.

My challenge for the coming week is to keep up the momentum of these listens that I have, largely, been able to establish over my holiday. Sure, I missed a couple of days but I broke the habit of mooching instead of addressing the task, albeit one I set myself and only I care about whether I continue (let alone complete). It's one thing to pick these up when I am free and haven't expended mental energy by doing a day's work; it's another to find evening time during working weeks and amidst other plans. Lazy Projector is a nice Birdian number, it has passed by whilst I mull my immediate future, and then we get another oddly titled track. I'm not sure I want to experience the Near Death Experience Experience, but here it is. It has a nice motion to it, a roll, muted strings and percussion carrying the tune effortlessly, jauntily, along. Odder sounds appear in and around this core, but the song's charm is in the basic pairing,

Ugh, mental tiredness is making finding anything interesting a chore to type. Another little interlude has sailed by before we land on Lusitania. Sinking ships indeed. I mentioned on Armchair Apocrypha that I like Andrew Bird's voice. It isn't just the timbre, its not necessarily pitch perfect delivery. Its just a homely, welcome sound. On this album he seems to be sharing vocal with a female voice, and there is a particularly nice harmony on this track. The jauntiness is back, with distinct echoes of... I guess Penguin Cafe Orchestra; Orpheo Looks Back is probably the nicest track on the album thus far. There is a real sense of... something to it. A folky edge? I dunno... hard to articulate, too tired.

Some of the sounds on Sifters are a little too flat for me, but the song itself is pleasant; when Bird isn't singing, it feels a bit pointless, lifeless. When his emotion-infused vocal is applied it gives the track that second layer that it needs to really click. This latter part of the album seems to lean toward the sparse which is a shame, not where I think the artist's strengths lie. He builds and intertwines sounds very well, and so when stripped right back to a melody and some percussion as is the case on Fatal Shore my interest suffers. This tune is also soporifically slow, relaxed, chilled... not helping! It's far too early to go to bed yet, though an early night (and a chance to read a couple of chapters before getting it) are the only other things on my to do list for this evening other than dinner.

Hole in the Ocean Floor is 8 minutes long; I really hope that it has something to it to justify the length, some heft and weight to sustain it that far. It does not start well from that point of view... too slow and sparse, but a nice enough little melody. It continues stumbling on this route for 4 minutes, at which point I start to lose interest. It's not that the tune is unpleasant, it's just a bit of a wander - which allows my mind to do the same. At which point it loses my attention and offers little by way of an attempt to draw me back.

The final track is humourously named "Belles" as it is all chimes. It reminds me a little of Sigur Rós for some reason - particularly warm winter scenes from the film Heima. The chiming lasts a couple of minutes then departs, without ever amounting to more. It leaves a strange silence - they felt like they should have been building to something, or at least fading out a bit more gently. I am left feeling less enthused than I expected to be before I began... I put that down to my state of mind rather than any real fault in the music.

Bashed Out - This is the Kit

Track list:

1. Misunderstanding
2. Silver John
3. Spores All Settling
4. Magic Spell
5. Bashed Out
6. All In Cahoots
7. Nits
8. Vitamins
9. We Are In
10. Cold and Got Colder

Running time: 37 minutes
Released: 2015

Another new release sneaking in, this one I only found out about this week, though it has been out just over a month. I cannot recall where I first heard This is the Kit, but I gather they are championed on BBC 6 Music these days (I don't listen to the radio; I've got too much here that I fail to listen to as it is!).

It has, again, been a week since I got down to one of these posts, and I should have been doing Bentley Rhythm Ace, but that is over an hour long and I am not sure I have enough time to squeeze that in. This, at sub 40-minutes, is more palatable. It is also a completely virgin listen - I didn't hear any of it as I ripped the CD.

Soft guitar and light percussion open us up, I cannot quite place who this sounds like, but it might have echoes of Sigur Rós in some of the sliding structural change. When the vocal joins in it is a bit odd initially - something about the timbre and the timing of it joining jolted me a bit - but settles quickly. A soft voice, to join the soft and fluffy soundscape. There is not that much going on here, but what there is builds a nice warm safe space. It is very nice without having much heft. Misunderstanding is also the longest track on the disc - I expect things to change as we move to shorter snappier pieces.

Change it does, as Silver John has more purpose, more thrust. Less nurdling, more driving. Not exactly strident, and still trading on the same warm enclosed sound, this song nevertheless has a pace and direction that was lacking in the gentle build and maintain of the first track. I think it is thoroughly unobjectionable, without commanding any real attention. Ah, but as that track ends and the banjo comes in to carry the main melody of Spores All Settling, this... this is infectiously good. A gentle canter picked through the strings, twanging pleasantly against another warm background and a vocal that comes across with intimacy. Yeah, this reminds me of the sound that had me pick this record up once I did find out about it. The voice recording feels like it is deliberately "surrounding" the listener, I find this very effective even as I listen through a single portable speaker attached to a laptop.

Yeah, OK. I am already happy with the purchase, and can imagine this album really growing on me if I give it some more time (it heads to the car tomorrow). Magic Spell may be nonsense lyrically but there is a similar welcoming tone, soft backing with some fine strumming, thrumming playing to create a murmur of constant presence and that busy sound is great; it affects me in the same way that louder, rockier tracks do - grabbing me and pulling me into the groove - hearing the song after it has finished, but in this case without actually damaging eardrums in the process!

The title track is less appealing, stripped back from the lush warmth of earlier songs, this has a cold starkness to it and the echo-like harmony on some of the vocal is a mile away from the intimate engagement of earlier. There is less pace, too - not that any of the tunes have had much. Far from being bad, it is just a change that I think makes it weaker that what came before. Thankfully All In Cahoots brings back a warmer and more engaging vocal, a warmer (again! Word of the day - wishful thinking about the weather?) rub from the arrangement. Yes, I think it could perhaps be argued that there is a lot of similarity in the pieces making up this album so far and those similarities could be thrown at it as a criticism, but - and I don't know if this is evidence of my mood just now - I find that consistency, that coherence is actually a boon. It feels more like an album and less like a collection of songs that happened to be released together and there is something pleasingly old fashioned about that these days.

Nits has just ended, Vitamins commences. This is stripped back again but not colder in the way Bashed Out was. No, this starts light, more distant than most of the other tracks, but the same reassurance comes through from the main melody, and when the arrangement kicks up a notch or two in places there is definitely a pulse like a little squeeze of joy and colour being injected into a monochrome image. The best points of the track though, I think, are contained within Kate Sables' vocal, slight tremors, delivery suited marvellously to the arrangement. The moments in this track which are just musical are lacking compared to those where the song is in flight.

We Are In starts rather lacklustre, the voice not quite functioning as well in the context of what it has to work with here - just a very floaty, ambient backing. It picks up a bit when the arrangement improves but the song is as close to a non-event as the album has been. Thankfully it is a one off as the final track is more driven again, a compellingly simple guitar, and the same channelled, cultivated aural glow - sound behaving like a gas, coming out of the speaker and expanding to fill the vessel of my living room, cloaking it in a pleasant atmosphere.

This has been a wonderful find, an early shout for album of the year for 2015 - though I will couch that in caution as a) I have hardly listened to some of the 2015 purchases I have made yet (and many will not show up here this year, for sure) and b) there is still more than half the year to go. I do, however, think it might be quite hard to beat the feeling of contentment that came with this disc though. Bashed Out is anything but; very classy.

Ba Ba Ti Ki Di Do - Sigur Rós

Track list:

1. Ba Ba
2. Ti Ki
3. Di Do

Running time: 20 minutes
Released: 2004

Happy New Year and all that.

We loop back to Sigur Rós for the 4th time for what is, after Von, probably the work of theirs that I am least familiar with. I want to say this is an oddity that I have never really listened to but that is not 100% true. Wikipedia has it down as composed for something else, which makes sense but rings no bells for me. I can hear the odd words of the album title in my head though so I have definitely listened to it before. It is a relatively short and simple start to B though so here goes...

It starts plinking away quietly, a fairly neat little repeating pattern that grows stronger whilst stars fall around it until eventually some more instrumentation is added and I get that uncanny sensation of familiarity... has this been used in popular media and if so what? My Google-fu is too weak to work out if so. Perhaps it is just prior random plays that my memory is bringing back now that I hear the tune. It still leaves me unsettled a touch though. The track itself is enigmatic; nice, but not engaging; interesting but dull in different ways. It is not a composition that would sell me on Sigur Rós, but it is one that knowing their material, I can enjoy. The tracks run together (in so far as that can be said for anything as sparse as this), but Ti Ki takes on a more childlike feel than Ba Ba as there is no central theme or melody. It is much more "play with chimes and clicks" - so much so that when stronger notes appear in the second half of the track I am taken aback. They stop as suddenly as they arrive though, leaving an eerie space behind them. Then they return and a theme is finally born. The clicks and chimes are really wearing on me by now, but the theme is nice; the reverb/echo on it makes it sound like it happens in a big empty space and that is an effective atmospheric. I cannot say I like the piece much though.

Di Do includes the "vocal" - the album name repeated in fractured fashion, with some recording artefacts by the sound of it - over the same starfall chimes that have been a constant through this mini-album, there is a bit more drive underneath this one, a shaky percussive effect introducing drive before the theme arrives, and the blurring of the vocal loops builds an oppressive feel. The chimes disappear before I notice them being gone, replaced by louder "bongs" - like clock bells. The distorted electronics are unpleasant. Oh my, this is awful and damn close to unlistenable. Its a shame, because before that distortion took over there was a more rounded piece waiting to take shape.

Sigur Rós or no, I cannot see any merit in keeping Ti Ki and Di Do. Ba Ba is nice enough once it gets going but the other two feel like something far removed, for different reasons.

Angels of the Universe - Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson & Sigur Rós

Track list:

1. Approach/Dream
2. Memory
3. The Black Dog and the Scottish Play
4. Degradation
5. Over the Bend
6. Colours
7. Journey to the Underworld
8. Shave
9. On the Road
10. Another Memory
11. Relapse
12. Coma
13. Schillar in China
14. Helpless
15. Te Morituri
16. Bíum Bíum Bambaló
17. Death Announcements and Funerals

Running time: 41 minutes
Released: 2001

I have the UK version of this, with English track listing. The album is 15 compositions by Hilmarsson and 2 numbers from Sigur Rós on the end. It is a soundtrack to a film I have not seen bought, predictably, because Sigur Rós are mentioned.

That said, I do have music by other Icelandic composers (Ólafur Arnalds has already come up in this project) so whilst I cannot claim familiarity with Hilmarsson there is a good chance I may be interested in his material too. The total time is very short for the number of tracks, with only a few going above 2 minutes... I wonder what magic can be woven in these short pieces.

The opening is fairly dark, not angelic at all, but it opens up after about a minute into a gentle guitar melody and supporting strings which between them craft a nice light space, if a sad one, the guitar sounding mournful and lonely. It closes by drawing in the dark again. Memory... it is as if we have lost ours. New track, very very similar guitar theme, same sort of effect and arrangement. The overall tones here are sombre, moody but touched with a light brush. The guitar of early tracks recedes in later ones in favour of string leads. There are hints of electronic or synth tones too, becoming major features in places; Over the Bend features clicks and percussive electronics quite strongly, meshing this with the string lament. I am not quite sure the combination really works as executed but it is a nice idea before the whole track melts away into weirdness.

This is a soundtrack album, which explains the number of tracks and their breakpoints which, as with Approach/Dream and Memory, do not always make sense or lead to strong similarities between different tracks. It also strengthens the thematic connection, the loneliness and the sombreness, but along with them the sense of a big wide sky and a whole lot of nothingness. I guess that is Iceland for you.

At times the strings get piercingly sharp (I dislike the end of Journey to the Underworld, for instance) but mostly they are rich and deep, enveloping and warm. None of these positive traits manages to oust that singular feeling of being alone in the middle of nowhere though. The visuals I imagine for each track are probably a million miles away from what they actually accompany in the film and I am sure if I had the context of the pictures they partner then the inferences and themes that I took away from listening would be different. How far removed though, I wonder?

Another Memory, a call back to the same theme we heard earlier. Generally I like call back as a technique - particularly in stand up comedy. Musically it is something that can only work when listening to a work in its intended order, so I suspect it will become rarer and rarer going forwards. Concept albums, discs designed to be listened to through and through in order, these things have less place in the modern "download what I like, shuffle everything" world. That is a bit of a pity, though I hold my hand up as being as guilty as anyone of shifting to the new model with regards to home listening. Every so often I will get a hankering for something specific, or endeavour to build a playlist for a certain themed use, but shuffle is far simpler and quicker to get to, even taking all the skipping into account.

I have reached Schillar in China now - through the middle section there have been a couple of tonic shifts, a little more percussion here and there, but it has largely kept the same themes and patterns. I expect a shift for the last two tracks (since Sigur Rós apparently handed over completed tracks for the soundtrack rather than composing songs anew), but the Hilmarsson material has been very consistent on the whole. I like it - though I cannot say I would listen to much of it by choice unless I was specifically in the mood. It does scratch an itch I have though: film scores are great for exposure to more classical composition, something I have never managed in satisfactory manner through other means, much to my own limitation.

According to Eighteen Seconds Before Sunrise Bíum Bíum Bambaló is a take on a traditional Icelandic lullaby. I am a little surprised at how well it fits into Hilmarsson's theme. I should not have been, really - it is pretty classic for the Sigur Rós of 2001 and could easily have come from Ágætis Byrjun. The final track is more of a departure, a rockier piece, their interpretation of a theme played to announce deaths and funerals on Icelandic radio. Quite a dark, brooding track this, more menacing than sombre. It is a harsh way to end a disc that really was not harsh at all.

Overall a pleasing album, better as a whole and approached when in the right spirit for it, but interesting to examine from time to time, too.

Ágætis Byrjun - Sigur Rós

Track List:
1. Intro
2. Svefn-g-englar
3. Starálfur
4. Flugufrelsarinn
5. Ný Batterí
6. Hjartað Hamast (Bamm Bamm Bamm)
7. Viðrar Vel Til Loftárása
8. Olsen Olsen
9. Ágætis Byrjun
10. Avalon

Running time: 71 minutes
Released: 1999

The cover image for Ágætis Byrjun is brilliant. 

On reflection, having already listened to ( ), I think this is probably my favourite Sigur Rós recording. Brackets has Popplagið and Samskeyti which really stand above the rest, but if I recall correctly the standard on Ágætis Byrjun is more consistent than anything that preceded it or has followed since. Time to see whether that is anything like correct, or just another case of my mind playing tricks on me.

OK, so the intro is immediately discounted, but Svefn-g-englar - whalesong comparisons though there may be - is a fine track. The reverb on the bass, the space the sonar-like pings allow, the floaty vocal... they are all loose constituents, but somehow bind together fantastically. With its long play time, the song - like the album as a whole has time to build. It manages to do so slowly despite never really introducing much instrumentation. There is a masterclass in minimalism here, until the 6 minute mark when it spikes briefly before returning to its prior pattern. Somehow, without any great changes, the tune manages to keep the listener interested over 10 minutes. I still cannot quite see how that works.

This is a long album at 71 minutes for 9 tracks and an intro but where some of that length might feel a chore, this does not. Starálfur immediately introduces more arrangement - keys and strings providing counterpoints. I like the keyboard line and I have a mental image of a scene from Heima where this is played on an upright piano in an empty hall... but I think it is an incorrect memory, conflating the visual with a different piece of audio (actually I think it is the title track from this album I am thinking of). What astounds me on this listen is how each of the first 3 tracks (intro still put to one side) are very different. Different styles, completely different arrangements and tone. The only thing consistent is the craft and how that hooks you. Flugufrelsarinn is more expansive, richer, louder but in a very controlled and understated way. It is my favourite of the three, touching my soul in some way I cannot quite describe.

I am listening on a night when I was hoping to be busy, but an overrun at work nixed my evening plans. I did not really feel like sitting and writing something when I began this - instead feeling obligated after wasting yesterday evening. Sigur Rós are the right sort of band for me in this mood - no kind of chore and quietly but powerfully uplifting. That said, I feel the quality dips with Ný Batterí - it just feels like it is lacking something compared to what has gone before... until it has built, and then it almost gets too much at once, presenting a slightly muddled sound rather than the clearer, more sculpted efforts of the earlier tracks. It reminds me a bit of some Scandinavian jazz at points, particularly the trumpet in the outro to the song, and whilst that is no bad thing, it is another different tone that jibes a little with the mood already established.

I love what comes next. Breathy, whispered vocal over a soundscape of a repeating riff, reverb and some carefully placed and monitored keys giving way to a cavernous expansive chorus (I guess?) before contracting again. There is a lot to like in the contrasts of Bamm Bamm Bamm. I am enjoying this more than ( ) for sure.

It is only listening to things like this that I notice the intros and outros to some of the tracks evoke Sigur Rós' first album, Von - or again, my potentially flawed memory of it - with its crackly static noisescapes. As a whole album they were a bit much; as bits and pieces around the edges they are still unimpressive, but they cannot detract from the sheer splendour of the pieces they abut. The one that begins Viðrar Vel Til Loftárása is very quickly forgotten as it opens up into a thoroughly melodic track, again largely relying on piano and strings. I really wish I could play keys like this. I could never hack practicing back when I learned as a child, but the piano has the power to move me like no other instrument. The strings here tug the emotions too, but nowhere near as strongly as the keyboard-derived melody.

It is funny to think that Olsen Olsen is the only track on this album to use their melodic nonsense "language" because to me it has always sounded more like an actual song than the other tracks on Ágætis Byrjun. Strange what our preconceptions can do, eh? I put that down to a much more classical song structure to open with, even if that has broken down by the end somewhat.

The title track brings me back to loving their pianist - just gorgeous melodies even when it drops into minor keys. I find myself wishing the vocal was recorded lower so that it did not obfuscate the tune so much. I think I have a preferred version of this to come on a later disc but it is a fantastic song.

The one truly drab spot on the album is the closer. Avalon just does not work for me. The sounds are off, too sparse and the tempo too slow. It is slightly atonal in places to my ears, and after an hour of song after song that would stand out a mile on most recordings, this feels like a really weak and unnecessary end.

Still, I would say that my recollections of the album are pretty much in tune with the reality that I have just sat through, and that 15 years after it was released it remains a masterpiece in my perception. My general feeling, to be tested in much later listens, is that as they adapted to stardom Sigur Rós became less interesting (particularly post-Takk), but this second album is a sweet spot; a work to be thankful for.

11:11 - Rodrigo y Gabriela

Track List:

1. Hanuman
2. Buster Voodoo
3. Triveni
4. Logos
5. Santo Domingo
6. Master Maqui
7. Savitri
8. Hora Zero
9. Chac Mool
10. Atman
11. 11:11

Running time: 45 minutes
Released: 2009

So apparently dedications are their thing, since this album has one for each track, too. Rodrigo y Gabriela get to be the first to appear twice in this list (before I began I expected that to be Sigur Rós) by virtue of using numbers. Woo.

Actually the dedications are the point here. 11 songs dedicated to 11 artists that inspired them. Cool idea for a theme, though I do not recognise most of the artists concerned (Pink Floyd and Hendrix are the exceptions).

It is quite a big, brash start. Hanuman dives right into a bigger sound than I recall from 9 Dead Alive but then again, that's probably because my speaker was not connected properly and it was using the brassier laptop speakers instead. Still, right from the first note there is a lot going on. Again. I am expecting not to like this as much to be honest;  the liner notes make it seem much more of a love letter to heavy metal from two fans, which means it is more divergent from my interest. However it remains mostly acoustic and intricate and interesting... just a little less so.

I never cease to be amazed by how much sound duos can produce, and how two musicians can appear to be playing 4 or 5 parts if they are really good. I first noticed this in a completely different genre and style with Jon Spiers and Jon Boden's combination of fiddle and melodion (with foot stamps for percussion) but it is present here too. Less noticeable for me because of the similarities in the instruments each is playing but definitely there. I guess it appears in larger groups too, but the impression is stronger the fewer people there are to contribute.

Logos is an interesting departure in sound, one I was not expecting. Much more open, free, melodic and less busy. It is also shorter, and a transition I thought was a bait and switch was actually WMP ticking over to the next track. This makes for an interesting section, but frankly a less enjoyable one. I am not sure whether that is because I have preselected what I want from this pair and this feels like a departure from that, or just a lesser appreciation for these tracks without a bias. I am also in a strange mood this evening, which does not help. Dog tired, I would be in bed if I thought I would sleep through - but it is only 21.40 and the last two nights have been a perfect illustration of going to bed early making me wake early (03.30 this morning). For that reason, I suggest, my opinions may not be fair tonight.

Master Maqui starts differently again, the balance lying with the percussive, before sliding back into more familiar weighting. It is more staccato in effect, and until the sections where that fades into the background, I do not enjoy the track. I am rather relieved when it ends, as my ears feel like they have been boxed.

When Savitri starts and my subconscious immediately goes "same; bored now" I know that I am not being fair. If fair reviews were the point of this exercise I would stop at this point, but that is not what these Listens are about, so I plough on, forcing myself though another 15 minutes or so and trying to bite back on harsh and unwarranted words. From an intellectual standpoint this is probably my favourite track on the disc so far despite that initial reaction.

I feel like I should have a glass of wine and be sitting back curled up, feet under me, not leaning forward at a keyboard though when Hora Zero reaches the two minute mark, had I been so positioned my sofa would likely now be stained. The elements of 9DA that had me purring are still here, but I have mostly been missing them. Most tracks do generally still contain multiple sub-tracks and variations that almost feel like distinct pieces joined in seamless medley.

Not so much Chac Mool - short, sparse; like Logos an odditiy amongst the larger sounds that surround it. Atman, which follows, I was expecting to be the most Metal on the disc (a result of the guest musician and dedication) and the least enjoyable as a result, but in practice I am pleasantly surprised and actually it may be my favourite... for the first 4 minutes at least. Then the (I guess) guest electrics come in and I am bored immediately (see the comments on 9DA re guitar heroes). When they fade there is an interesting echo, but the attention is long lost.

11:11 is the Pink Floyd dedication. Floyd will show up a fair bit later on so this should be interesting, but I cannot help but feel that the track is not long enough to be dedicated to prog! The tune turns out to be interesting enough. I can hear hints of the space present in a lot of David Gilmour's playing and there are echoes of High Hopes. Oddly it fades to keys, that feels somewhat out of place - for the track, for the album and for the dedication - but actually it brings a pleasant curtain down on the album, and my efforts to be productive this evening along with it.

( ) - Sigur Rós

Track List:

1. Vaka
2. Fyrsta
3. Samskeyti
4. Njósnavélin
5. Álafoss
6. E-Bow
7. Dauðalagið
8. Popplagið

Runtime: 71 mins
Released: 2002

Yes - first thing - I have named the tracks. Last FM suggests I am far from alone in doing so.

Second thing that comes to mind is that I've seen Sigur Rós live once... probably heard some of these tracks. Don't really recall it at all, overshadowed as it was by the fractious nature of the friendship I had with the other person I was at the gig with, and the fact they were then unknown mid-afternoon support for a lineup that culminated in Radiohead's homecoming gig. That was 2001; this album came out in 2002 but their blurb says they were playing these songs for a year or more before that so... I only remember thinking "whalesong", for which I now am ashamed and full of regret.

I don't remember when I first really heard Sigur Rós and became a convert, but this album was almost certainly key to my doing so. I do regularly indulge in tracks from it, though 90% of that does tend to be either the superb closer or the supremely touching Samskeyti. Listening back can't help but feel the opening two tracks of the album are quite weak and that I'm going to end up concluding that my favourable overall impression is heavily weighted by the two standouts.

The arrangements are sparser than memory alone would have me believe - there's depth there, but it doesn't sound as lush or as layered as in my decade-old nostalgia. I do remember always having trouble discerning the tracks from each other - not because of the initial lack of names, but more because the vocals used from song to song have a certain reliance on similar sounds. Or possibly this is just my mind playing tricks again.

Samskeyti just started and immediately I am sucked right back in... and the keys have not even kicked in. When they do, shivers and goosebumps follow. It is just a spectacular melody. Always reminds me of the closer from Heima - their film. I want to say those visuals are of the group in a candlelit studio, but I don't trust my memory. Maybe I should re-watch it, it's been a while. I don't remember the sharp edge to the guitar line in my idealised recollection of the track; it's not unpleasant, just at odds with the softness and splendour of the piano.

Got distracted during Njósnavélin, jarred back to conscious thought when it ends; rather sudden cut-off to what is otherwise a very pleasant piece... but which gives way to the mournful drone of Álafoss which doesn't quite sound right as I listen in a relatively brightly lit room!

I have strong memories of walking in the rain listening to this album on the way to and from campus whilst I was in Bath doing my PhD. Those memories appear to almost entirely revolve, as my strong enduring love for it does, around a minority of the tracks. Also, the further I get through this listen, the more I think my earlier comment about the vocal stylings in each track being similar is reflective of how the human brain does not let memories go, as such, but rather twists them as pieces are lost - precisely the kind of activity that got me interested in neuroscience to begin with... not that I'm sad I left it behind: research really didn't agree with me. 

I am getting impatient. Not because Dauðalagið is bad, but because it isn't Popplagið and I am more in the mood for an uplifting cathartic climax than a dark, brooding number. The problem with this exercise is that I know what is coming and it pressures my "skip" trigger when what is up next is something I would much rather hear. That is, of course, precisely the point; listen to it all. I am sorely tempted though!

Patience brings its reward - that riff just cuts to my soul and the arrangement and drums gradually fill in and reach my consciousness. I could listen to this track on loop for a very long time before getting bored. I am certain to call a hundred plus songs my absolute favourite if this project lasts and this is the first of those pretenders. In some ways it has a less powerful effect than Samskeyti - no goosebumps this time - but it leaves a more lasting impression. This, I am sure, was not part of their set back in 2001... it can not have been, surely? Bloody hell... seems like it might have been. They list it as "the pop song" in a 4 track set where "untitled 8" may refer to Samskeyti if cross-referenceing with another entry in the list. Now my regrets from that day are amplified.

Drums kicked in; eyes closed; breathe deep; relax. 

Silence now, the album is finished. All I can hear is the tapping of my keys and the whirring of the laptop fan. Typing on this machine is annoying - far too easy to hit the trackpad by accident and I have had to undo and/or retype several sections of this post as a result. The silence is interesting though... it's filling my awareness in a way that it would not had I played Popplagið when the player was on a random selection from my library and so is re-enforcing the idea of an end. This in turn has me reflecting on the piece more - by which I mean the final track, but also this writing.

I think I have enjoyed this process, but starting with an album I like a lot feels like cheating. There are some other interesting items in the 20 more titled collections before I get to "A" but none of them hold my affection in the way ( ) does. The album clearly stands up still, but listening to it in full for the first time in several years has me less impassioned than I was. Three tracks stand out, two shine very brightly indeed (Njósnavélin is the third). I cannot bring myself to un-tag it from "favourites" but it only hangs in there by its fingernails.