now for something completely different. sigur rós have been number one at home in iceland for months and are so quiet, so shakily fragile, it feels criminal to breathe at the same time as jón þór birgisson sings.

each track on this ep slips out like someone's taken the top off the glass jar they were stored in. they rush past like a barely noticeable breeze and you merely feel the hairs on the back of your neck bristle as they disappear. if you think that's pretentious nonsense, you'd be right, but it's only the beginning of what you'll doubtlessly hear about this band.

somewhere between spiritualized, a traditional madrigal group and slowdive with liz fraser on vocals, this is exactly as you'd hope a band from just beneath the artic circle would sound like. sigur rós' debut uk ep is so delicately beautiful, you feel as though you're trespassing by listening to something this intimate, yet they retain the magestic crackly force of mogwai. with the volume turned down, naturally. by the time it rumbles to a close, you realise you've been holding your breath in awe.

(nme)

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