( )

Slow and enchanting post-rock.

The 2002 third studio album from Icelandic post-rock band Sigur Rós comes off of the great success of their previous record ‘Ágætis byrjun’ in 1999, one which came with international acclaim and placed them alongside other boundary-pushing alternative rock bands of the time like Radiohead. The title of this follow-up record: the wholly unorthodox ‘( )’. Evocative, yes, but difficult to pitch to your friends. It would be like one of those hidden YouTube videos with no title that occasionally will come across your recommended tab growing into one of the biggest titles in its genre. “Hey, have you heard the new Sigur Rós album Open Parenthesis Closed Parenthesis?”

This album is glaciatic, if that’s even a word (it’s not). Glacier-like. Slow and serene, gently moving across the cold, barren oceans, occasionally rising to drop a chunk of ice with a swell and a splash. Underneath that cold, unflinching exterior is a soundscape so gentle and soothing that it hardly feels like the abrasive and threateningly dense post-rock I’m used to: ‘( )’ is like being welcomed home into open arms.

With just the first track, my initial thoughts were how instrumental and smooth the vocals were in quality. Of course, being an Icelandic band, I wasn’t expecting to understand the lyrics, but there was something about how naturally they conveyed emotion that made me think that it could be nonsense and still bear the same sadness. Imagine my surprise only a few researched minutes later to find that THEY ARE! Vonlenska is the groups own made-up vocalization gibberish of long tones and syllables, and singer Jónsi lets it soar with falsettos like a siren out on the ocean. There’s no need to understand the words because the vocals are an instrument in and of itself, and they perfectly capture magnitude of swelling emotion.

With how relaxed and ghastly the strings and chords sound on ‘( )’, it feels like some cosmic last rites are being transmitted across the universe. Hear me out: Outer Wilds? This honestly feels like an appropriate soundtrack to accepting your celestial fate and watching the sun explode. Heavy chord playing and strong, emphatic down beats keep the tempo moving at points and keep this within some kind of semi-structure, but it’s enough to where the space in between each bar can feel like a millennium. It’s low gravity, space walking slow-mo tempo starts to bubble over into some crashing true-to-form post-rock on later tracks, letting all the relaxation and emotion built up over the first hour or so finally be released into catharsis. As long as it is, and as easy as it can be to lose focus and zone out for a bit in all the echo, it all feels paced perfectly.

I’m very impressed with ‘( )’, both for having great critical and public acclaim with such an unflattering title for recommending, but for stirring such a tear-jerking emotional response over 71 minutes while hardly saying a word. ‘( )’ flows like water, and it’s an album best experienced by disconnecting for an hour and letting the music guide your thoughts. Peak relaxation and meditation can be achieved through Sigur Rós.