jonathon powell this was possibly the most laidback concert i’ve ever been too – we started standing, soon sat on the floor, and by the time labradford were on at least half the audience were positively recumbent.
i had great hopes for the venue as a good place for sr to play in terms of ambience as it was a former church – unfortunately it’d been spoilt by adding a false ceiling – shame. sr predictably the highlight of the night, though disappointingly where *not* headlining so we were limited to a mere 4 songs. i can only imagine that in the interests of equality the five acts are coming on in a different order on each of the five nights.
the whole affair seemed somewhat informal – the acts would appear on the stage, and if you weren’t paying full attention you wouldn’t even notice that they’d started. so it was when robin guthrie came on, and they actually plugged his amp in. he was excellent though – very reminiscent of early cocteaus stuff…bizarre to hear all this guitar-sound he’d built up with the battery of effects pedals, and then he’d be just be standing there, doing nothing.
pole wasn’t my thing really and the set lasted about 1 “song” too long leading to frustrating delay to sigur rós taking the stage… and then it was sr. of course it was all too brief, but it was a considered, pretty downbeat set. the first piece was instrumental – just making me want to hear jonsi sing all the more. then it was bíum bíum bambaló, which was stunning – shivers down the spine, goose-bumps, the works. really took me back to seeing them with gybe! at the rfh. the third one was another slow builder with a lot of keyboard, climaxing in a huge crashing crescendo. last was nýja lagið, a sweeping, huge sound. then it faded away, and they were gone. they’d said nothing, but moved everyone.
then it all rapped up with labradford drifty stuff and david pajo’s relatively conventional guitar, even featuring a little singing and harmonica. i detected no trace of iain sinclair or marc atkins contributions to the proceedings. ah, roll on the headline tour for ágætis byrjun. (jonathon powell)
esbs
says:
mavis dream 3 …. eventually icelandic sigur ros come on, only the lead singer bloke isn’t bald and doesn’t sound a bit like björk. hello, he says moodily, we’re sigur ros. then he straps on his guitar and…oh-oh. he picks up a bow. visions of jimmy page wankery spring to mind, forty-five minute guitar workouts and songs that never, ever end. but then organ blokey starts up his organ, lead singer opens his mouth and from it emanates a voice that is deep in the netherworld, high but angelic, sweet yet gritty, and from the bowed guitar comes this enormous roar of anger and pity and melancholy. it’s one of those moments which seldom happen at gigs, when everything suddenly works together to produce the most perfect mix, capturing the mood perfectly. bang, it hits you, and suddenly you pay attention, it captures you and draws you in and won’t allow you to let go even if you wanted to. forty-five all too brief minutes later, it’s over, and, although the entire thing has been conducted in icelandic, you really don’t care. it was majestic, life-affirming and beautiful. (mavis dream 3)
esbs
says:jonathon powell
this was possibly the most laidback concert i’ve ever been too – we started standing, soon sat on the floor, and by the time labradford were on at least half the audience were positively recumbent.
i had great hopes for the venue as a good place for sr to play in terms of ambience as it was a former church – unfortunately it’d been spoilt by adding a false ceiling – shame. sr predictably the highlight of the night, though disappointingly where *not* headlining so we were limited to a mere 4 songs. i can only imagine that in the interests of equality the five acts are coming on in a different order on each of the five nights.
the whole affair seemed somewhat informal – the acts would appear on the stage, and if you weren’t paying full attention you wouldn’t even notice that they’d started. so it was when robin guthrie came on, and they actually plugged his amp in. he was excellent though – very reminiscent of early cocteaus stuff…bizarre to hear all this guitar-sound he’d built up with the battery of effects pedals, and then he’d be just be standing there, doing nothing.
pole wasn’t my thing really and the set lasted about 1 “song” too long leading to frustrating delay to sigur rós taking the stage… and then it was sr. of course it was all too brief, but it was a considered, pretty downbeat set. the first piece was instrumental – just making me want to hear jonsi sing all the more. then it was bíum bíum bambaló, which was stunning – shivers down the spine, goose-bumps, the works. really took me back to seeing them with gybe! at the rfh. the third one was another slow builder with a lot of keyboard, climaxing in a huge crashing crescendo. last was nýja lagið, a sweeping, huge sound. then it faded away, and they were gone. they’d said nothing, but moved everyone.
then it all rapped up with labradford drifty stuff and david pajo’s relatively conventional guitar, even featuring a little singing and harmonica. i detected no trace of iain sinclair or marc atkins contributions to the proceedings. ah, roll on the headline tour for ágætis byrjun.
(jonathon powell)
esbs
says:mavis dream 3
…. eventually icelandic sigur ros come on, only the lead singer bloke isn’t bald and doesn’t sound a bit like björk. hello, he says moodily, we’re sigur ros. then he straps on his guitar and…oh-oh. he picks up a bow. visions of jimmy page wankery spring to mind, forty-five minute guitar workouts and songs that never, ever end. but then organ blokey starts up his organ, lead singer opens his mouth and from it emanates a voice that is deep in the netherworld, high but angelic, sweet yet gritty, and from the bowed guitar comes this enormous roar of anger and pity and melancholy. it’s one of those moments which seldom happen at gigs, when everything suddenly works together to produce the most perfect mix, capturing the mood perfectly. bang, it hits you, and suddenly you pay attention, it captures you and draws you in and won’t allow you to let go even if you wanted to. forty-five all too brief minutes later, it’s over, and, although the entire thing has been conducted in icelandic, you really don’t care. it was majestic, life-affirming and beautiful.
(mavis dream 3)