Sigur Rós @ SEC Armadillo, Glasgow, 24 Sep

Tonight's special Sigur Rós show is visually stunning, bolstered by elastic bass, pounding drums, bowed guitar and ethereal otherworldly vocals

Live Review by Lewis Wade | 25 Sep 2017

The Armadillo looks awesome and it has quickly become one of the buildings that is representative of cool, modern Glasgow. Inside, however, it has a very 'conference centre' feel (understandable, but still) and this can't help but distract from the magnificent display of artistic expression that Sigur Rós provide.

This special run of shows, with no support acts, comprises two sets just short of an hour either side of an interval. The performance is visually stunning, with the usual array of flashes, flickers, screens and mesh being deployed in new and innovative ways to create an experience that is operating on a much higher level than simple strobes in time with beats.

The background visuals often consist of beautiful vistas, hypnotic billowing smoke or tessellating geometric shapes. These project order and consistency through the auditorium, though they frequently become offset by an abrupt trick of the light (challenging notions of perception are a constant in the visual component of the show). These changes bring the harsh, metallic rigging into focus, contrasting images of serene nature with 'ugly' man-made structures – a juxtaposition certainly not lost on a band with a history of eco-friendly activism.

And then there's the music – the elastic bass, pounding drums, bowed guitar and Jónsi's ethereal, otherworldly vocals. All of these discrete parts (plus keys and the odd loop) come together in perfect harmony to create orchestral beauty (Fljótavík), explosive power (Glósóli), coy vulnerability (Á, Vaka) or a haunting, shamanic call to arms (Óveður). Fan favourite Sæglópur is especially moving, beginning with its familiar piano notes before one wall of the cage rises and the drippy light blobs that had been falling from poles now coalesce to charge forth across two screens as the band tear through a showcase of barely contained chaos.

All hell breaks loose with the fifteen-minute-closer Popplagið in a frenzy of feedback and virtuoso drumming. The band, with a laboured effort after this emotionally draining performance, leave the stage to a well-earned standing ovation. They return with sincere appreciation written across their faces as a giant 'TAKK' emblazons the back wall. Thanks, Sigur Rós.

http://theskinny.co.uk/music