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Rating: Struck on the road to Reykjavik since their first cry, the shock was so violent that I promised myself I would never leave to chance the subsequent works of those youths who I vowed had burst through my heart's door.
Ah, but happiness is fleeting, my dear, and time itself passes because it is made only to leave us dear memories.
Thus, from the first work of meticulous international distribution (that remarkably impactful "Agaetis Byrjun", whose praises I will not stay here to sing), the downhill step was short though unexpected: "()" cast into the air a gloomy litany - sweet and muted - yet morbid in its twisting among the same coils (never a flicker, never a leap into the void).
Where had that visionary talent gone that unsettled me in those days, never was I given to know - and of the alien on the cover who haunted my dreams, no trace was ever seen again.
Between the two things, then, came the subject of my review, the collaboration with the now-producer - former Psychic Tv - Hilmar Örn Hilmarsson, for writing the soundtrack of the eponymous film, "Angels of the Universe," a "thing" of 17 songs enclosed in 41 minutes, and it certainly was not punk. Rather, somewhere between the masterpiece of their deceptive beginnings and the bleak decline of recent developments.
So, a sort of orchestral new post-age symphony, then? Uhm... Maybe, rather, a delicate and unambitious work built around an idea: the lightness of the soul. Thus, around fragile guitar arpeggios, the string carpet unfolds and the angelic voice of the leader Sigur Rós remains relegated behind the scenes.
Music - in any case - perfect for cradling the soul in moments of solitude... but tomorrow my soul will be weary of reveling lightly, and it will be when it asks - to face its daily battle - for something else, and from my stereo will spew another 41 minutes, but of 17 raucous and filthy punk songs.
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