Thursday, April 03, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Music: Iceland, Iceland, baby

Everyone wants a piece of art rockers Sigur Ros

By Mike Prevatt

Okay, first things first: How the hell did Las Vegas get a slot on arty Icelandic act Sigur Ros' current tour, which only visits 16 American cities?

Some of you are probably thinking, "Hey, lots of cool and reputable bands come here now, you elitist shitbag. Give it a rest already."

This is true. However, given this town's inclinations toward short-attention-span, profit-minded, middle America-approved entertainment, it is nearly impossible to fathom that a band that doesn't sing in English, plays sparse and largely melancholy songs (without titles--more on that later) that average eight minutes in length, never speaks to its crowd and makes critics so overwhelmed they cry or vomit at the shows would headline a Las Vegas marquee.

Well, it is, and not only is Sigur Ros anticipating its Vegas gig, it won't be the first time it's visited, thank you very much. Not that the quartet actually singled the city out as a tour stop.

"We never decided," says the band's bassist, Georg Holm, with a laugh. "We saw the tour dates and there was Vegas! We've been once before, but that was for our keyboard player's wedding. It was in an Elvis chapel!"

If the sight of these seemingly dead-serious musicians attending a Las Vegas wedding complete with an Elvis impersonator--along with idea of the band appearing at the schmoozy Sundance Film Festival, or performing on a show hosted by Carson Daly--doesn't test the boundaries of irony, then perhaps you understand the band far better than we writers do. And that's certainly possible.

Sigur Ros might be one of the most in demand and yet misunderstood bands to emerge in the past couple of years. Its appeal, mystique and unconventional musicianship confound the more cynical onlooker. Never mind that its 2000 album, Agaetis Byrjun, won the inaugural Shortlist Prize, and () was one of the most critically acclaimed albums of last year. Writers and haters alike accuse the band of overwrought emotionalism, self-righteousness and bombastic preciousness. When asked if the band was pleased with the mostly adoring reaction to (), Holm said it was--except for the whole no-title furor, which was routinely lambasted in praise and pan alike.

"When we decided to have an album with no title, no lyrics and no titles for the songs, we always spoke about the importance of people actually making up their own minds," he says. "The only thing the media has taken attention of it is the fact it doesn't have any titles. That's not the point. We're actually emphasizing the music this time, and people start emphasizing there's no titles. It's not everybody, but it's been a little of a disappointment. [They] look past the music and onto the album cover, which is the least important part of the album."

Well, if Sigur Ros has the humor to throw weddings in Las Vegas, it must be having the last laugh on the image front. It wields unheard-of artistic control, despite being signed to a major label (MCA). It has a legion of celebrity adorers, ranging from Radiohead to Metallica. And its fiercely loyal fan base is very vocal about how the band's music has changed their lives, or at least allowed them to leave the real world for a bit.

Holm argues that with war being waged in the world, perhaps diversion isn't the appropriate response to Sigur Ros' art. "I hope our music is doing something," he says. "But, if anything, if we're playing in a place like Washington [where the band was when the bombing of Iraq began], I'm really hoping our music is not an escape. I hope it's a wake-up call."