Go with Jonsi

At its heart ‘Go’ is essentially a pop album. What Jónsi has done is taken the aural geography invented by Sigur Ros, and applied it to a pop format, rendering a neat set of nine well-crafted, three-to-five minute songs…

Jónsi – Go

A number of months ago Jónsi, lead singer for Icelandic sonic landscapers Sigur Ros, released his breathtaking solo debut ‘Go’.

Having heard a few track leaks at the end of last year, I had high hopes for the record in the wake of Sigur Ros breaking up. The record lived up to those expectations delivering something entirely unique, and it has been burning a hole in my speakers since the day it came out.

At its heart ‘Go’ is essentially a pop album. What Jónsi has done is taken the aural geography invented by Sigur Ros, and applied it to a pop format, rendering a neat set of nine well-crafted, three-to-five minute songs. The tracks have all the hooks of a well written Top 40 pop album, with the inspired thought of a Sigur Ros record.

The record begins with the flighty ‘Go Do’, incorporating glockenspiel, woodwind, shimmering acoustic guitar work, Jónsi’s signature cooing, and Samuli Kosminen’s innovative rhythm section driving the song. These elements play a major part throughout the record, holding together the spectrum of subtle, yet intense layering within each track.

Unlike the made-up language employed by Sigur Ros, the songs here are sung mainly in English, with some Icelandic thrown in for good measure. This gives us a clearer look into the lyrical themes of the record, namely the youthful ‘Animal Arithmetic’ speaking of ‘everyday/everywhere/people are so alive’. The first single, ‘Boy Lilikoi’, tells a T.S Elliot inspired tale where the protagonist ‘burn(s) so bright’, whilst ‘climb(ing) endless trees’, borrowing melodic refrains from Kings of Leon track, ‘The Bucket’.

The record is not all fun and games, however, with the heavily orchestrated ‘Tornado’ ‘destroy(ing) from the inside/erupt(ing) like volcano’, and ‘Sinking Friends’, a song whose title speaks for itself. There is a deft balance between the albums density and lightheartedness, and it is my belief that the reason this record is so important is that it sounds unlike anything I have heard before. Whereas other more recent influential releases wear their own influences proudly on their sleeves (e.g., The Beach Boy’s ‘Pet Sounds’ shaping of Animal Collective’s ‘Post Merriweather Pavilion’, and the effect Paul Simon’s ‘Graceland’ had on Vampire Weekend’s ‘Contra’), ‘Go’ seems to speak with a distinct voice of its own, or at least in an accent this reviewer has yet to hear. The true magic of this album is not in its exquisite composition or refreshing songwriting, but that it actually lifts you into a higher plane when you turn it up loud enough.

A week after the release of ‘Go’, local Icelandic volcano Eyjafjallajokull (say it how you see it) erupted a breathtaking composition of its own. Now I’m not one to get spooky about such coincidences, but the two events seemed to share some stark similarities in the magnificent way they displayed themselves.

Combining ruthless, atmospheric energy, and beautiful yet dramatic scenery, both the natural disaster, and Jónsi’s release catch the eye and the ear, much like an accident you cannot tear your senses away from. And while the small island nation’s economy lies in tatters around them, Jónsi’s ‘Go’ provides a clear statement that the world has not finished with Iceland just yet.

Verdict: One the most important records of 2010.

By Theo Sangster, 6 November 2010.