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Sunday, Mar 19, 2006

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Posted on Fri, Feb. 24, 2006

Ice, Ice, Baby

By CARY DARLING

STAR-TELEGRAM POP CULTURE CRITIC

When rock-'n'-rollers talk about fan behavior, they're usually referring to something predictably rowdy. The mosh pit roiling like a storm-tossed ocean. The guy crowd-surfing as if he's off the coast of Waikiki. Groupies swarming backstage like fire ants at a Texas picnic.

But followers of the Icelandic foursome Sigur Ros aren't likely to engage in such antics. They're more likely to show their affection by sobbing silently in their seats or -- if they're really worked up -- passing out.

Bassist George Holm, who founded the band in 1994 with original drummer Agust, says such reactions no longer stun him. "We used to be amazed that people were fainting and crying," he says in a phone interview. "I guess it's very emotional music, and when people hear the music, they start thinking about something personal."

Certainly, they're not usually reacting to the words. Guitarist/singer Jon Thor "Jonsi" Birgisson sings only in Icelandic or Hopelandic (also called Hopelandish in some Sigur circles), a language of the band's own invention. His keening elfin vocals glide over glacial, sumptuous soundscapes that seem to reflect their homeland's haunted and austere yet magnificent beauty.

If nothing else, the music of Sigur Ros -- whose name means "Victory Rose" -- taps deep into a well of rhapsodic pop-critic hyperbole that verges on parody: Details said of the group's third and latest album, Takk, "If we ascend to heaven, this is what it'll sound like," and Q Magazine dubbed the band's 2001 debut disc Agaetis Byrjun "the last great record of the 20th century." London's Daily Telegraph quoted writers hailing the quartet as making "music of the gods crying golden tears" and crafting "folk music for the after-life." The Telegraph went on to compare Sigur Ros to Estonian composer Arvo Part and British composer John Tavener.

This reputation has led to some very non-rock 'n' roll projects, such as writing music for the Danish Royal Ballet and the Merce Cunningham Dance Company. It's also sparked the kind of fiercely loyal cult following that helped Sigur Ros' Monday-night show at Bass Hall sell out within minutes when the tickets went on sale.

So it's surprising when Holm speaks about the musical backgrounds of the band members. The others are keyboardist Kjartan Sveinsson and current drummer Ori Pall Dyrason. "All of us came from the underground, grunge type of thing," he says. "I guess all of us had some interest in classical music, but I don't think we have classical influences. We use a lot of string instruments and brass, but the Beatles did, as well. It's just pure pop music."

Well, maybe, but don't expect Holm and company to be vying for Icelandic Idol (and, yes, there is a version of American Idol there). The four keep to themselves and avoid the media spotlight. There are no photos of the band on any of their CDs, and their second album, billed as ( ), didn't even have a proper title. Neither did any of its songs.

In that sense, Takk -- which means "thanks" in Icelandic -- is more approachable and feels lighter in tone than its predecessor. "The general mood was very different this time," Holm recalls, noting that the songs came together fresh in the studio instead of being road-tested to death in concert, as the previous album was before recording. "We were feeling energetic and really wanted to create something. On the previous record, we just sort of had to finish something that we'd started three years ago. It's hard to record something after three years."

Takk is also mostly in Icelandic instead of the band's inscrutable fictional language. Holm says Hopelandic came about as an accidental byproduct of the songwriting process. Random words and syllables were thrown together to fit with the music, but they liked the effect and never went back to substitute actual lyrics. "And then we saw people singing along to songs that didn't have any lyrics," he says. "We found it amazing."

Though Holm says he doubts the band will ever record original tracks in English, it's contemplating translating several of its pre-existing songs. "It's a challenge to write something in Icelandic and do it very well," he says of why the band members continue to write in their native tongue even though, like most Icelanders, they're fluent in English.

For a nation of fewer than 300,000 hardy souls -- less than half the size of Fort Worth -- Iceland has a flourishing music scene. And Bjork and Sigur Ros are that scene's best-known exports.

"Iceland is very far up north, quite cold, and people get very bored. I think they need to create something," Holm says. "If you don't create something, you'll go mad."

Sigur Ros

8 p.m. Monday

Bass Hall

Fort Worth

Sold out

(817) 212-4280

More chips off the Iceland block

Sigur Ros is only the tip of the Icelandic iceberg. For such a small nation, Iceland has an extremely active music scene. Writer Alex Ross in The New Yorker exclaimed after his 2004 visit that "Iceland may have more musicians per capita than any country in the world. This nation of 290,000 people -- roughly the same population as Cincinnati -- has ninety music schools, about four hundred choirs, four hundred orchestras and marching bands, and some vast, unknown number of rock bands, jazz combos, and d.j.s."

You can keep up with the Icelandic scene and order music at the English-language Web site ( www.smekkleysa.net) set up by Bad Taste Records, the label co-owned by Bjork, the country's best-known export.

Here is some other Icelandic music to check out:

Bjork, Post (1995) -- Her unique vocal style puts off some, but beneath the surface, there's a wealth of musical and lyrical invention that makes her one of the most innovative performers of the past decade.

Gus Gus, Polydistortion (1997) -- This disc was released when Brit bands like Portishead and Lamb were creating a distinctly down-tempo brand of dance music, and these guys gave the genre their own original twist.

Mezzoforte, Surprise Surprise (1983) -- Followers of early-'80s jazz-funk in the Level 42, Yellowjackets and Shakatak vein made Mezzoforte's Garden Party track an unexpected hit in the U.K. But the biggest surprise for these new fans was that these guys didn't come from London, New York or LA but Reykjavik.

Mum, Finally We Are One (2002) -- Coming off like Bjork's more ambient younger siblings, this quartet paints dreamy musical landscapes that seem very much of the rocky, volcanic island they call home.

Quarashi, Jinx (2002) -- Yes, there is hip-hop/rock in Iceland, as this Rage Against the Machine/Beastie Boys/Limp Bizkit-style outfit proves.

Singapore Sling, Life Is Killing My Rock 'n' Rol l (2004) -- Fuzzed-out, drony guitar-rock didn't die with Jesus and Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine after all.

Sugarcubes, Life's Too Good (1988), Live Zabor (2006), Sugarcubes The DVD (2005) -- The pop world became aware of the unique nature of Icelandic rock with this quirky band, fronted by Bjork and her bizarre and irritating pal Einar Orn. A just-released DVD of the in-concert Live Zabor (originally released in 1989) and the video clip collection Sugarcubes The DVD are good ways to see what the fuss was all about.

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