Wednesday, August 06, 2003

If there is a better seven minutes of music than njosnavelin, a.k.a. "untitled 4" from Sigur Ros's album ( ), I don't know about it. When I listen to the song, it grabs my full attention in a way that most music doesn't, because it forces my brain into paradoxical spasms. I feel like my heart does mellow backflips, if that were possible. It affects my mood chemically, like taking antihistamines.

Yes, it's pretentious. No, wait. I feel obliged to say that it's pretentious because I would be embarrassed if people whose opinion I respect thought it was pretentious. Actually, without irony, I think that it's brilliant and lovely and moving. I don't care if they sound like Radiohead and Pink Floyd had an Icelandic love child. And I don't care that they sing in a made-up language and refused to play on Letterman because he demanded that they play something that was shorter than eight minutes long. I do care that Cameron Crowe used it for the finale of Vanilla Sky, a scene in which everything good about the movie went straight down the crapper, because the movie was unworthy of the song.

So, if you like Radiohead knock-offs, soundtracks, or antihistamines, have a listen!

 2:16 PM

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