i laid in the darkened room, eyes staring up at the ceiling. i was on my back, and the sound wafted in shimmering waves, alternatively of rain and moonlight, from the direction my head was pointing. the lights were off, but the blinds were open, allowing a ghostly pale yellow to filter in from the street lamps outside the apartment. the yellow carried enough photons to illuminate the white ceiling, and at the same time cause it to glow faintly at the edges; an optical illusion due to the surrounding darkness.
already i could begin to make metaphors for the experience, but we’ve not yet got to the crux of it. the light was just so, such that my eyes couldn’t exactly focus on anything at any particular depth in front of them. the ceiling was no help–glowing ephemereally as it was, it completely failed as a point of reference. thus my focus involuntarily went up and down (or outwards and inwards, as it were), causing a most curious sensation.
this sensation was more or less perfectly symbolic of the music. for over an hour i was virtually comatose, willingly paralyzed by ( ), the new sigur ros album. it faded into and out of view, hazily, just as it flitted shadow-like away from my attempts to force it into a structure. heavily atmospheric, unbelievably sad, despairing even; yet, triumphant, brokenly joyful; annoyingly beautiful and implacably angelic. the hour passed, and when the room lights were flicked back on, dissipating the hovering cloak dripping with musical fantasy, it felt as if i’d gained a year, having spent it still and silent amidst the sorrowful singing.
never pass up a cd listening party for a band reputed to have the makings of genius, especially if that band is from iceland.
virtual disc on spin: agaetis byrjun | sigur ros
