12 December 2007

... but I'm still on a kick.

For Sigur Rós, I mean. They have always been within my sphere - even when I somehow inexplicably saw them live and failed to appreciate them playing tunes from Ágaetis Byrjun when supporting Radiohead in the 2001 gig at South Park.

But there is something eternal and unending about their tracks. Almost like once you cotton on to their magic, it will hold you spellbound forever. Yes, Heima has something to do with this in my case - now my awareness is properly piqued; seeing them live even on screen is amazing - but it is more than that. Their tunes offer everything - salvation, isolation, inclusion, despair, love and hope.

Since Heima arrived I've only vaguely been able to listen to other artists - that is everything is couched in comparison and judged by their standard - making a lot of music (both previously known, or otherwise) hard to listen to and my emotional life feeling massively lacking; why is it that things I really, really like always leave me thinking more of the things I would really like but do not have?

Yes, it say a lot about how much of a sad individual I am that music can affect my perceptions so, but Sigur Rós are as close to perfection as it is possible to get in my limited and blinkered point of view. Sober or drunk, lonely or... (no, actually there is no or there), there just is nothing to compare. I risk running out of superlatives in my own mind whenever I contemplate their works - my obsession is that bad. Currently it is exhibiting in being up past bed-time (whatever time that may be) to listen in my post-office xmas do state of pish-ed-ness.

Their wonders will carry me through to sobriety, and with it work tomorrow. I am sure of this.

1 comment:

CresceNet said...

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