A review: “Riceboy Sleeps” by Jónsi & Alex

July 30, 2009

Riceboy Sleeps is a collaboration between Jón Þór Birgisson, a.k.a Jónsi, and his partner, Alex Somers of Parachutes. My initial thought was, this is nice. I mean. Who can ever call something hailing from Iceland and from Jónsi not nice? The calm of the strings like carefree wind through your hair. Immaculate music.

But the thing is. When I listen to Sigur Ros, it is like a picture of a boy holding onto a balloon. When I listen to Riceboy Sleeps, I cannot shake the image of the balloon floating aimlessly in midair, with the frail string just breezing along the current in midair.

I guess what I am trying to say is, Jónsi played a huge part when it comes to Shoegazing music for Sigur Ros. He has been around all along that we forget how important he is until he is gone. He is the boy that holds the balloon – the music – in place. Without him, it is just another one of those helium balloons you let off to the sky at special occasions with no specific destinations to go to.

Jónsi takes a big rest in Riceboy Sleeps (hence, the title perhaps?), leaving ample room for Amiina’s strings and the Kópavogsdætur Choir to take over. It is a sleepy calm throughout Happiness, Atlas Song and part of Indian Summer. And when Jónsi finally makes an appearance in the middle of Track 3, you kind of cherish every bar he sings because the previous songs are like minutes building you up for his return. But once he is gone, the rest of the album is as plain as the white fields in Iceland.

Riceboy Sleeps sounds pretty much the same from beginning till the end. There were not much dynamics from Amiina, and the Kópavogsdætur Choir did nothing climatical like Jónsi did. It is pretty much like background music for a movie that has not been made yet. Thinking back about it now, it is hard to pinpoint which song is which without checking my iTunes playlist while the song is playing, save Indian Summer, only because and when Jónsi sings. Perfect for playing back-to-back  as you go to sleep though.

For what it is worth, Riceboy Sleeps still provides the same kind of comforter cocooned around you like Sigur Ros did. Kind of like the warming up to something much bigger inside an enclavement. If that even makes sense.

HERE is Indian Summer. Listen to it. Wait for 6:20. It is worth your while.

You can aslo stream the album here.


A memo from Mogwai, live in Malaysia

January 21, 2009

I’ve been to many concerts, but almost never in a condition like this. I had plenty of chance to do so but I always believed that music, real artistic brilliance, must be listened to a conscious state of my mind.

But tonight I broke my own rule for the sake of experiencing what it’s like when your mind is in outer space. So I smoked a joint and I took the plunge.

Mogwai’s first venture onto stage was time-stopping. As the first notes were plucked I felt instantly the call of rhythm, pulsating deep within me. And as those first notes build to a mighty crescendo, I felt billions of sensation imploding in me, and here is the summary.

Amidst yellow, red, white lights and puffy smoke, I saw things.

I saw how a human life can be so beautiful, as they chug their way through the limited passage of time. I saw a young man tossing his mortar board into the sky, happy faces, full of dreams and fear of the unknown.

I envisioned a young couple embracing, feeling each other as they let the feeling of nuptial reunion sink into their bones.

As these thoughts penetrate my head, Mogwai was gleefully playing to my emotions. As they brought the thunderous music down to a whimper, serenity fell onto me.

All is good. All is beautiful.

The village by the shore with the cautious breeze blowing by, the golden hue of lush, daffodil meadows displayed before your sight, arranged neatly in a geographically precise position, the sound of the waves gently crashing against century-old rocks. In that feeling however, I could not help but feel the coming of an impending doom. As if this is the calm before the storm.

I anticipate…………the soft music continues…….I anticipate……Oh, how it teases…….I anticipate……and then just as the anticipation slowly began to fade, the lightning crashed! All instruments merged! In a thunderous galore!

As Mogwai let loose the fury, my serenity was shattered. All of a sudden, I see a great volcano eruption. I see Ragnarok – the last battle of the gods. I see a doomsday earthquake attack right in front of me. I see the most powerful rain pour down, as if this is the very rain that will tear down the might of Noah’s Arc.

It was……magic.

When you mention post-rock, I shamelessly admit my biasness. My love for Sigur Ros is unrivalled. But Mogwai tonight, they shaked that Berlin wall of a fortress. Not enough to tear it down, but sufficient to cause a ripple.

It was a blissful night. A riveting performance.

Mogwai were flawless and I, stood in complete awe.

———————————————–

Here’s the complete set list

# the precipice
# scotland’s shame
# friend of the night
# i love you, i’m going to blow up your school
# hunted by a freak
# mogwai fear satan
# i’m jim morrison, i’m dead
# christmas steps
# i know you are but what am i?
# thank you space expert
# helicon 1
# 2 rights make 1 wrong

encore:
# like herod
# batcat

————————————————-

// A memo (review if you like) of my night with Mogwai, Live in KL, 21st January 2009//


Scotland’s Shameless

January 11, 2009

I like how subjective Post Rock can be. You can put them all under the same category, yet when you listen to them, differnet kinds of emotions burst in between the notes.

Whenever I listen to Sigur Ros, I am constantly reminded of how Iceland is. Although technically I have not been to the country, yet every song I hear from them, I could see different sides of Iceland. The hippity-hoppity Hoppípolla that makes you see the first light touch the cold town. How the warmth brings brand new light into your life like another year’s Christmas morning. The thoughtful Samskeyti that reminds you of those long lonely drives back home, when you could only see as far as the headlights could, illuminating the snowflakes running at you like tiny kisses from Heaven. The peaceful Fljótavik, which if the song is all that is made up to be, the very town in Iceland would be as comforting and beautiful. Sigur Ros just makes Iceland an imaginary place you would want to be to cure your broken soul.

Aptly named, Explosions in the Sky is like fireworks displays you see on Independance Day, Christmas Day, New Year’s Eve and all the other festivals that give you a reason to set off the fireworks. There is a forming pattern of a different kind of story in every song I listen to. The questionable What Do You Go Home To? that accompanies you on that doubtful plane ride home, as you wonder is it the right choice to leave or is it all just a big mistake. The romantic The Only Moment We Were Alone that is like a guardian angel press up against you on that lonely train ride, and the moment you grasp for a hand you could smile because you thought you felt someone squeezing back. With Explosions in the Sky I see worlds in both Heaven and earth.

And then there is Mogwai. With every song I listen, I feel like I am walking down the dingy back alley of downtown Los Angeles. It is like a perfect picture from a vampiric romance film. All I see is a family couch sawed in two and a beggar sleeping behind it under his hope of a cardbox home, puddles of sewage water dripping off rusted pipes and fire escapes. I feel like if I stand there long enough, I might either get mugged or I might as well just grab a broken pipe and slit my wrist. Happy Songs for Happy People, no not at all. In Hawk is Howling, it is a bloody massacre from the draggy I’m Jim Morrison, I’m Dead, right to the last of The Precipice. It may seem hopeful at least in The Sun Smells Too Loud and Thank You Space Expert, but that is probably the bright light you see before crossing over.

I leave you here with my favourite song by Mogwai, I Know You Are But What Am I? Download it HERE and watch the video down there.

And if you have been living under the rock for a while, Mogwai is stopping by Malaysia on January 21 and Singapore on January 23. Get your tickets now to see them perform live. God save us all.


Mogwai live in Malaysia, Jan 21, AND Singapore, Jan 23

December 23, 2008

‘Tis the season to be jolly indeed. And the best thing is, Malaysian fans do not need to hold it against the Singaporean fans for being better off, and they do not need to fake an MC to get across borders only to return to the country in the middle of the night for work the very next day. And don’t worry, Singaporeans, you do not have to cross the borders over to our side any time soon either.

Yes, word is out: Mogwai is visiting both Malaysia and Singapore. In light of their sixth and latest album, The Hawk is Howling, the “monsters” are on the move and they are set to swing by our side of the world to scare the bejeezbus out of us.

Tickets go on sale on Boxing Day, and although the price may be a little steep, (and don’t you Malaysians start on the petty fact that Singaporeans have it good on a weekend) but it is not everyday Mogwai comes play live, so tighten up your Christmas belts and grab a seat before they are sold out.

Details are as follow:

mogwai4

Mogwai live in Malaysia
Date: January 21, 2009 (Wednesday)
Time: 8PM
Venue: Tuborg Stage, Hall 5, KL Convention Centre
Tickets:
RM128 (early birds – on sale from 26/12 till 8/1)
RM148 (presale – on sale from 9/1 till 19/1)
RM168 (at the door)

Tickets are available at all Rock Corner outlets.
For advance bookings, ring up Soundscape Records at +6 016 336 9089, or email ticketing@soundscape-records.com.

mogwai3

Mogwai live in Singapore
Date: January 23, 2008 (Friday)
Time: 7.30PM
Venue: Esplanade Concert Hall
Tickets:
S$55, S$65, S$85 (early bird S$75), S$100 (early bird S$90)

Tickets go on sale on Boxing Day, 26/12 at 9AM, and early bird offers end on 12/1.
You can get your tickets at sistic.com.sg, call them at +65 6348 5555.

Looks like 2009 is off to a good start.


Just watch the explosions in the sky.

November 16, 2008

Alright, I give up. I have spent two days trying to come up with something worthy of reading about Explosions in the Sky because they deserve it. But I have been drawing up ideas that cannot even begin to describe how I feel every time I hear them.

I wanted to talk about their concert I went to in Brisbane back in February, but it has been so long ago I can barely recall it in details, especially when I was about to pass out from the beer I had. All I could remember was seeing bits of them behind the speakers that were blocking my view, and how the crowd just went utterly silent and bobbed their heads in a trance along with the band, and only cheered when each song finishes.

I came up with this silly plotline of how our music taste changes from time to time, and how one day I downloaded First Breath After Coma and that was how I got into Post Rock. Or how we would have a kind of soundtrack to our every day lives, and their songs are like that to every time I drive to work via the LDP and see the sun rising at the sky. One would know I am trying too hard when I had come up with something as dorky as that.

So, I am just going to let the music speak for itself. Because there is no words to describe them any better. Part of the reason why they are instrumental, I guess. There are already so many reviewers out there about them, and they may have done it better. However, I am just going to throw in the towel this time around, because I am short of words for them.

But do this for me. Start your long drive to work in the early hours of the morning with this song. Stay up late at night without the lights on and listen to them on your headphones/earphones and nothing lesser to get the full closure. You might actually see salvation.

Download The Only Moment We Were Alone from their third studio album The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place HERE.


Sigur Ros’s Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust: A Review

August 6, 2008

I know, I know. I am late. Its been over a month now since it’s release. But hey you can’t fucking blame me. I searched record stores everywhere in KL. No one sells them. Fuckin retards. Thankfully, a dear friend managed to fly home a copy of it from Australia for me.

Anyone who’s familiar with Sigur Ros’s work, will understand when I say their music is sprawling. They’re the wizard of sorrow. They conjure up vivid images of hope, faith, pain, despair all in one musical passage. “Little” is not an option. When they do it, they do it big. Mammoth-like. Like standing on the shoulder of gigantic mountains. A band who creates their own language to sing in commands not only respect but also admiration of the highest degree, as evident in the album (). If i was the Sultan of Iceland, I’d bestow upon them datukships or tunships or whatever highest civilian honor i can.

Track 1 and 1st single , Gobbledigook begins as a thumping guitar driven track with flashy percussions and hand claps all round. From my vast discography knowledge of them, this is perhaps the only track of them that ever comes close to being a pop song. I hate it. In fact it’s the weakest song on the album for me.

(English: “With a Buzz in Our Ears We Play Endlessly”), starts off on a light note, quite the opposite of their previous albums. The first 5 tracks are chirpier and at times, even happy. On the first listen i was liked, “Fuck! Whatever happened to the majestic sorrow of Sigur Ros that I loved so much? Did they desert the sad fucks like me and defected to the happier people of the world?”

As if to address my insecurities and to give me a good thumping for ever losing faith, Track 6: Með suð í eyrum began. As the haunting piano intro swirled into my ears, I realized I’m home. From a single piano the song spirals into a collection of ethereal instruments that include a bowed guitar, violins and cello.

As Track 7, Ára bátur began it’s 9 minute journey, I was completely in awe. As I’ve said before, when Sigur does sorrow, he does it in a spectacle of majesty. The first 6 minutes sees Jonsi singing along to a lone piano before the the strings begin to settle itself in the 7th minute and as the song screams to a climaxing crescendo, Sigur Ros is joined by the London Sinfonietta and Oratory Boys Choir.

At that point, I felt like I was in heaven and Iceland, seems to be the closest place on Earth to that.

I could go on to discuss track 8, 9, 10 and 11 but I don’t feel the need to. It’s only worth mentioning that track 9 brought tears to my eyes (I am not exaggerating!!) and track 11 is the first English song ever by them.

With (English: “With a Buzz in Our Ears We Play Endlessly”), Sigur Ros proves itself to be the pivotal drive of Post-Rock. If you’ve read my review religiously, you’d notice that I did mention that things began to make sense to me only from track 6 onwards. You’re gonna have to disregard me here. Track 1 to 5 is brilliant. Festival, especially is epic. I just prefer their anguish masterpieces which does not mean that those songs are anythig less than masterpieces.

I am terribly sorry Mogwai. As talented as you are, you don’t come even close to dethroning Sigur Ros as the Emperor of Sound.

Listen to Track 9, Fljótavík which translates to “A Place in Iceland”. It is so fucking beautiful my heart aches.

Download the song HERE.


The Mona Lisa of Sound

June 14, 2008

I was at Loft one fateful Friday night. Feeling out of place. Feeling out of character. Thinking to myself, am I too old for this kinda shit when suddenly, as if answering my thoughts, the 40 decibel speakers above my head began to vibrate a certain anthemic sound. Muted bass lines filled the air followed by light touches of effect driven guitars before a falsetto-laced voice took over the melody overture.

I cocked my head, trying to fill my ears with this wondrous sound. Who could this be? I wondered. Who could be making such amazing music in a language that I could not understand? I approached the deejay and I asked. That was the day I was introduced to the behemoth of a band known as Sigur Ros.

Sigur Ros is not your average musician. You don’t expect to listen to them while you’re caught in traffic after a day at the office. You don’t try to listen to them while you’re at a coffeehouse with a bunch of friends who are there to bitch about the cost of living.

No you don’t. They’re just much too brilliant for that.

They’re sound is best described as a form of art. Their brilliance should not be understood while you’re trying to fulfill life’s daily routine. It would be blasphemy. Acclaimed motion picture directors recognize this and both Cameron Crowe and Greg Araki have used their music in the film Vanilla Sky and Mysterious Skin respectively. (I highly recommend Mysterious Skin to serious movie buffs who wishes for the purest form of story telling in motion pictures as opposed to the usual Hollywood melodrama crap)

The music of Sigur Ros is best described as anthemic and atmospheric. It invokes and stirs heavy emotions to the listener via their flawless blend of slow but steady build up to crescendos. Their sound is so unique partly due to the fact that front man Jonsi sings in a perfectly executed falsetto and plays electric guitar with a cello bow. The fact that it’s in Icelandic doesn’t make it easy for the casual listener as well.

Sigur Ros is not for the faint hearted. They’re not a 5 minute quickie in the elevator. They’re not an arithmetic equation you can solve in 20 seconds. Like a lover you hope to grow old with, you take your time with them.

I introduce to you, Glosoli (Glowing Sun in English) from the album Takk - not my favorite song from them but it was this that I heard in Loft that forever changed my perception on Icelandic music. Turn up the volume and let not only your ears but your mind as well, be amazed.

Download the song HERE.