From the Salmon

I’ve been listening to Takk..., the new album from Iceland’s Sigur Rós, for a few weeks now (shhhh… don’t tell). And I just don’t have words for it.

I mean, I’ve got words. “Gorgeous” comes to mind. “Sweeping” might fit in there somewhere. I bet I could come up with others.

Perhaps I could even assemble them into some approximation of what this album sounds like. I could write about the towering crescendos of “Glósóli” and “Sæglópur” or the oom-pa marching band that bursts onto the scene at the end of “Sé Lest.” About how there are moments that echo the ache of 2002’s ( ), but how Takk... is more majestic and hopeful overall than any of the band’s previous work.

I could write all that. But it would still only be — as the melancholy Dane might say — words, words, words.

The thing is, you don’t read about Sigur Rós. You listen.

Actually, that’s not quite right either. You feel Sigur Rós.

Their music has never been about words for me. Even if Jónsi is indeed back to singing real lyrics in a bona fide language, I don’t want to know what they are. I just want that voice. That ineffable, celestial, heart-wringing voice.

Maybe the best way for me to describe it is this: I’ve been a choral singer for most of my life. And after rehearsing a piece tirelessly, there comes a time when you know it well enough that you stop trying to sing and you just sing. You anticipate. You hear other parts in new ways. You savor.

You lose yourself in beauty.

Sometimes, particularly when singing in another language, you might even bid farewell to what the words mean and cross over into a realm of raw sonic emotion.

That’s where I experience Sigur Rós.

Maybe that makes no sense to you. If my feeble attempts to explain come out like a load of pretentious hogswallop, then so be it.

As I said, I just don’t have words for it.

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Takk... was released today and is available at Amazon and at iTunes. You can also stream the album in its entirety at MySpace. Also check out the video for “Glósóli.”