Jónsi
Go

Jón Þor Birgisson, Jónsi to his friends, at just 36 years old is like Peter Pan: he doesn't want to grow up. The fans of his Sigur Rós know this well, and those who don't know them yet (a serious gap) can type "Go Do" on Youtube to admire him dressed as an unlikely bird using a suitcase as a drum: an imperceptible shy and insecure smile, almost restless, hidden among the most colorful hues. Jónsi is someone who undoubtedly still has a lot of desire to "jump in puddles".

In 2010, he decided to take a break from the main project and released in April his so far only solo album, "Go". Demonstrating creative personality, he deviates – not completely, however – from the burdensome name he carries, from post-rock and the rougher sounds of Sigur Rós, softening those expansive and dreamy atmospheres that framed the wild landscapes of the North in "Heima" and emphasizing instead that sensation of genuine joy and inexhaustibly childlike wonder that the four had offered us, to name one, in "Hoppípolla".
"Go" is primarily elegant pop-rock with a touch of electronics, without huge pretensions but fresh, pleasant, and engaging. It's the album that Coldplay could release if Chris Martin truly thought "Viva la vida"; it's "Adore" by Smashing Pumpkins in reverse, with the sweetness of a kid instead of Billy Corgan's dark nihilism.

"Go Do", "Animal Arithmetic", "Boy Lilikoi" and "Around Us" are examples of the explosive mix of bubbly liveliness, falsetto voice, strings, and flutes that permeates the entire work. You can imagine Jónsi leading a frenetic little orchestra, narrating his world with euphoric melodies and that introverted smile.
Completely leaving behind the sound of Sigur is not simple, and their unmistakable influence is felt in the more peaceful "Tornado" and "Kolniður", marked by the piano and touching in their barely hinted melancholy, in the electronic reverberations, in the light whispers.

"Go" is not a masterpiece and is not without some unconvincing episodes, and I imagine it will likely stay in the shadow of the main project.
However, it has a particular quality that I find precious: once listened to, it cannot help but leave more than one smile. A carefree, childlike smile. I think this is Jónsi's message when he stirs disguised as a bird with a suitcase in hand: don't think about it. Go.