Untitled #8

I somehow managed to score Sigur Ros tickets to the New Yorker Festival screening of Heima (trailer), where the band also performed a short 3 song set, sat through a painful Q&A at first then later hilarious, then an encore by a guy who had the guts to have the last question be: What can we do to convince you to play another song?

Untitled #8 closed off the film, in an absolutely electrifying pounding drumming momentous exhilarating build-up of tension, pain, heartbreak and elation. It's hard to describe Sigur Ros' music, as my sis and I were later discussing it, what's the point of words, of too many words by critics with too much time on their hands. Just listen. Don't you feel like you're in an epic version of your life?

How does so much pain and longing come from such a frail creature?

The footage of the drummer, pounding as if he was battling demons was incredible. I'm glad the sound at the screening was just a bit above the "ow, that's loud" threshold. :)

Aural landscapes. Images images to sound. Cranial movies. Suffering. I kept thinking, is this song someone wailing upon learning the death of a loved one, or upon the discovery of love letters from a departed one?

Yeah, I have too much time!