On a night that captured the very essence of their balance between light and heavy, Sigur Rós played a double set on the second of three nights at a packed Eventim Apollo in Hammersmith. These titans of post-rock have now been thrilling audiences for 20 years, since Von first showcased their stunning balance of apocalyptic guitars and singer Jónsi Birgisson’s ethereal vocals. As a new album moves closer, they took the opportunity to showcase their back catalogue as well as introducing newer work.

As an ambient intro to last year’s new release ‘Á’ began, and the band took their places on a deceptively simple-looking stage (which throughout the course of the evening turned out to be anything but straight-forward), the anticipation was so thick that it could be tasted. With a large video screen playing images of clouds (or perhaps the cosmos), and a thumping drum beat, we were instantly transported far, far, far away from West London. As Birgisson’s distinctive voice echoed around the room with exquisite precision in his self-created ‘Hopelandic’ language, rarely has an absolute hush descended over an audience so quickly or so absolutely. It set the stage for an almost unbearably moving opening pair of songs, as ‘Ekki Múkk’ seemed to cause more than a few audience members to suddenly get something in their eye.

With their unintelligible lyrics, transcendental and evocative lighting and imagery, every audience member feels something different at a Sigur Rós concert – making it a hard show to review, as is the case with all art. The joy and sheer emotion shared by the crowd was universal however. During ‘Glósóli’, the music seemed to float so delicately at one point that it risked disappearing altogether before its deafening crescendo. With bassist Georg Hólm providing the groove and drummer Orri Páll Dýrason (who was the secret weapon tonight with his exceptional performance) laying a thumping beat down, Birgisson slumping to the floor playing his trademark bowed guitar, it felt like the soundtrack to the end of a universe. Similarly with ‘Dauðalogin’ and ‘Fljótavík’, which never mind leaving London, seemed to exist on a completely different plane of existence altogether. As the first half of the set drew to an end with two newer songs, it felt as if the intermission was necessary just in order to breathe again and try to make sense of what was transpiring during the exceptionally moving first half.

Any worries that the night may have peaked too soon were swept away instantly. As the lights dimmed for part two, fog swirled across the stage revealing the trio playing side-by-side within a metal cage. Throughout the night, different elements of that seemingly simple set-up revealed itself. Metallic structures revealed themselves to be hosting different lights with each track having its own aesthetic, complementing the images played at the back of the stage and heightening the mood each time. Whereas the first set pulled on the heartstrings, the second had a different intensity. ‘Festival’ began with a beautifully sung intro by Birgisson, with a high note held for so long and with such beauty that it truly took the breath away. The second half of that song was played with such a blistering heaviness, as was follow-up ‘Kveikur’, both were easily the equal of any metal band with its sheer loudness and power. The audience response was deafening, as if all of the emotions built up over the course of the show came flooding out. Then suddenly, it was over.

Two and a half hours had gone in the blink of an eye. This was a show the likes of which I have never seen or felt before, one that even a few days later still brings tears to the eyes and a lump to the throat. It encapsulated everything so powerful about music and why we fall in love with it – its ability to move, shake, thrill, transcend. Simply stunning. Takk Sigur Ros.

Jamie MacMillan

Website: sigur-ros.co.uk
Facebook: facebook.com/sigurros
Twitter: twitter.com/sigurros