Embark on a spiritual journey

Many years ago, I stumbled upon a magazine review that hailed this particular album an emotional masterpiece. With such big words, how can I not want to sink my ears into it?

So I did. That album was Spiritualized’s Ladies and gentlemen, we’re floating in space.

I was unfortunately dissapointed. At that point of time, I coudn’t understand the fuss that everyone was making. Thinking the critics have inferior taste, I shelved this record for dust collection purposes.

Time fortunately, taught me the error of my ways. It took 2 years before my mind was developed enough to  fully understand the brilliance of Jason Pierce and his work on Spiritualized. Combining gospel music with big sound horn sections, Piece’s work is nothing short of an absolute wonder.

On his latest record, Songs in A&E, Pierce speaks about death. Which makes sense considering how the album was conceieved on his death bed, while he was battling a chronic respiratory dissease. He recovered, got back on his feet to cut this album which infuses sounds of the hospital, respiratory machines and his forlorn dying voice.

On his most critically acclaimed record, Ladies and gentlemen, we’re floating in space,  Pierce goes “All I want in life’s a little bit of love to take the pain away”, under the backing of black gospel singers. The dynamism of his sound is unbelievably profound.

I could go on really, but this is one of those cases where words cannot do justice. Just listen and you’d understand where I’m coming from. I took a couple of years to appreciate the beauty of Spiritualized, but you’re probably smarter than me so waiting need not be on your agenda.

Listen to the monstrously epic track, Ladies and gentlemen we’re floating in space.

You know you’ve heard something incredible when you’ve got tears rolling down your face.

Jonsi gives me a hard-on (and i’m not even gay)

I don’t know about you but there are 3 things in life that I simply cannot resist.

1) A Mild Seven fag after 1 week of abstainance, accompanied by cold winds in a foreign land with hot, strong coffee in hand

2) Watching Good Will Hunting and not smile at the part where Robin Williams say, “damn he stole my line” in reference to Matt Damon having to go “see about a girl”

3) Sigur Ros.

If like me, you’re subscribed to Jonsi’s mailing list (fanboy-la), you’d know that Jonsi’s solo album Go is almost in completion. I will republish excerpts of what John Best, Jonsi’s manager has to say about the record.

For years – I mean literally since I’ve known him (10 years now) -
Jonsi has been beavering away in his kitchen, bedroom or living room
making music extra-curricular to Sigur Ros. To be honest we’d kind of
gotten used to these being drawing board propositions only – the
ambient album, the electronic album, the pop album, the acoustic
album, etc. It’s not that we didn’t doubt his work ethic; these things
certainly existed, it’s just that they seemed more conceptual than
real; creation to sate Jonsi’s enormous energy rather than anything
we’d ever have to put on a release schedule. But then last year he
went and finished ‘Riceboy Sleeps’, an album that had existed as a
soundtrack to his and Alex Somer’s artwork far in advance of being an
actual record. And then he started on about the *acoustic* album and
bounced straight off the back of ‘Med sud i eyrum…’ into the studio
(alright, apartment) with Icelander-by-proxy Nico Muhly.

It seemed apparent to us that it would be missing a trick to limit a
bona fide Jonsi solo album to being a small scale acoustic project, so
some subtle cajoling and encouragement to reach beyond his comfort
zone was the order of the day. we shot the breeze about producers and
Peter Katis’s name came up off the back of his work with Fanfarlo and
The National. Jonsi weighed in with drummer Samuli from Mum, who he’d
heard playing with Alex in Nordic art supergroup Kira Kira. Suddenly
the *acoustic* record wasn’t looking so acoustic after all. From then
on it’s been a slow and ineluctable slide towards the full-on, barely
contained, glorious mayhem soon to be available on ‘Go’.

Everything about this record has a seat of the pants feel about it,
its wildly shifted focus, the way nothing (including the album itself)
had a title til about an hour before the news hit the blogs; the fact
that as I type I still have no idea what is going to be on the cover;
or that, even though Jonsi is currently on a plane to New York to
master the record we’ve no clear idea of what order the songs are
going to appear in, or even, in some cases, which versions of songs
are going to be used. It’s edge of the seat, it’s exciting, it’s
infectious. I think we are beginning to sense that maybe Jonsi has
created something super special here. More than that in fact, I think
he has created something really special here. I’m not sure I’ve felt
this excited about a project since the time I first heard Agaetis
Byrjun, right back in 1999. Holy fuck. Are you ready?

You can download Boy Lilkoi, the first single (i think) off the record here. I’ve heard it and damn, mother fucker it is good. Call me biased whatever but the ears do not lie. When I hear good music, the heart and crotch feels it, right through the veins.

Fuck it’s so good i’m getting a hard-on.

I’m finally back guys. Deal with it.

A review: “Riceboy Sleeps” by Jónsi & Alex

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.

One of those days

It is just one of those days when you get out of the wrong side of bed. You know, those days when everything just does not seem to go your way, and you are sighing more than you should. You wish you could head back home and sleep the day away, wake up with a new day, reset.

While waiting for the hours to pass by, you look for solace in another cigarette you steal from your colleague. Or hide in the washroom stall for a few more minutes, just to cry for a while or to hide away for a while. Or put on your headphones and turn the volume way up, sifting through the many “comfort songs” to feel better again, in hopes they will make you feel better again.

Comforting sounds. Falling rain. Wheels running over wet roads. The setting sun. The breeze. Your lover’s deep bass voice on the other end of the phone, beside you in bed, in your head. Your cries. The turning pages of your favourite book. Blaring silence. The repeats of your favourite song. A consoling voice, an emotional melody, a soothing orchestra.

HERE is a comforting sound.

Be well.

A memo from Mogwai, live in Malaysia

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.

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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

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

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

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

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.