"Takk ...," the fourth and most recent release from Sigur Ros, is an epic undertaking on many levels. Members Georg Holm, Kjartan Sveinsson, Jon vor Birgisson and Orri Pall Dyrason spent 20 months writing, recording and producing an album whose challenge to the listener lies in its unconventional sound rather than any hard-to-digest concept. Hovering somewhere between ambient noise and pop, "Takk" should be the soundtrack to trendy elevators and lobbies around the world. There is no "filler," per se, since the whole album exists to fill aural space with its carefully arranged crescendos, power chords and orchestration. Already commercially and critically successful, it probably will give muzak a little hipster credibility.
The band has returned to an actual language -- its native Icelandic. (For the last album, 2002's "( )," singer Birgisson contributed an original brand of gibberish he called Hopelandic.) Yet the lyrics themselves are still minor parts of the record, if they are to be considered at all. Translations to the songs, though promised, have not even been posted on the band's website.
For the thousands of non-Icelandic listeners, this language barrier is incidental. The true power of Sigur Ros' words lies in their phonetic shapes and rhythms, lyrics written by a musician rather than a poet. As a voice, Brigisson's distinctive falsetto has more in common with a dying cat than anything else at times; I myself flinched several times when listening through headphones. However, as an instrument, his vocal cords become an ethereal string ensemble that mixes well with the orchestration.
Though more accessible than the literally unspeakable "( )," "Takk" is still not quite radio-friendly. It isn't even iTunes-friendly; as I watched my computer clock each track, I could distinctly hear the next song already beginning before its "time." Most of the songs stretch out over five minutes or more, each one slowly building up to a wall of pure sound that fades away just as slowly, in a cycle that spans a little more than an hour.
The album opens with the eponymous track, "Takk," which means "thank you" in Icelandic. The song itself is a bland study in getting nowhere. As part of an album, however, "Takk" does a perfect job of introducing Sigur Ros' technique of starting sparsely and building from there. These constructed walls of sound generally rise up toward the middle of each song, and these are the album's strongest moments.
In the same vein, it is the middle of the album that truly shows off the group's talents in writing and arranging this unique type of pop music. In particular, "Saeglopur," "Gong" and "Svo Hljott" stand out, with strong melodies and drum lines that almost lend the label "rock" to them. During these songs, part of me wishes that I could sing along to something, but in the end, words themselves would be a barrier to the sound of Sigur Ros.
Whereas previous albums were often compared to the ice floes and wintry landscapes of the band's homeland, "Takk" is more like a warm wave of sound that ebbs and flows. Some areas of the album are painfully slow and drawn out; at over 10 minutes, for example, "Milan" feels like it should have ended already at multiple points in the song. But despite its flaws, "Takk" ultimately left me relaxed, with a beautiful variety of textures and sounds stuck in my head instead of the usual three-minute pop hook.
The music of Sigur Ros definitely has a place in the world, though not where people are exercising or operating heavy machinery -- someone could get hurt. In writing this review, I struggled to concentrate fully on each song. I often failed, spacing out only to find myself listening to track nine when I could have sworn I had just started the album. It took a long time to consciously hear "Takk," but the richness of the album is worth the effort needed to appreciate it. And while discussing the fuzzy feeling you get because of the horn arrangement on track four does not hold the same cache as exploring the symbolism of a Dylan song, Sigur Ros gives the listener as high-quality a musical experience as any respected lyricist in the world of popular music.
