Sigur Rós, Manchester Apollo. 7th November 2022

I’m not sure how many times I’ve watched Sigur Rós over the years, but I always remember the first time. Supporting GY!BE at Planet K in 2000. Things have changed a lot for the Icelanders since then. This is the first of two shows in the Apollo on a tour that’s had several dates added due to demand. They’d struggle to fit on the old Planet K stage these days, never mind trying to squeeze the fans in. This feels like a big production, bespoke lighting that looks gorgeous, some fancy crocheted rigging and sublime video projection, but it’s actually all beautifully simple. They start with a flurry from the album (), ‘Vaka’ leading the way. It’s majestic and spellbinding. If I’m lucky enough to know when my time is coming, I want this as my soundtrack. ‘Fyrsta’ feels a touch more wistful, but the slow thumping drum beat drives the crowd into a lulling sway as we all settle in. The opening piano lines of ‘Samskeyti’ brings a roar from the otherwise silent crowd. As the stage lights converge into one corner and all four band members huddle together to bring the suite to a near raucous close. It’s intimate and captivating. It’s soon time lift things even higher though with ‘Svefn-g-englar’ as Jonsi takes his bow and coaxes those resonating guitar swells, before lifting the guitar and singing into it, those haunting vocals floating even higher through the body and down the strings. They’ve always been great, but this is magic. ‘Rafmagnid buid’ see’s Jonsi channel his inner Sunn O))) under a flickering spotlight, before all the lights bleed off the stage for ‘Ny Batteri’, the bow already beginning to shred as the lad next to me starts to head-bang. It’s those drums, they’re sharp and brutal. For all the subtle symphonics, Sigur Rós are power personified when they choose to unleash. It’s the highlight of the first half of the set, which considering how brilliant the opening hour is, is saying something. There’s something reaffirming about a band like this attracting so many people happy to stand in awe at music like this. Although I do witness one lad who’s had too much being lead out by security. Imagine getting wasted and thrown out of a Sigur Rós gig! Pay close attention and they can be fascinatingly weird to watch. The lad on drums (sorry I don’t know your name) is in one rhythm, Georg’s bass following something slower. Then Jonsi and Kjartan layering over the top, yet to the ears it feels perfectly harmonious, to the point that the girl in front of me in a fluffy white jacket, can trace the melodies in the air with her hand like she’s somewhere between Woodstock and an evangelical church. It’s all very cinematic, but to every pillock trying to film everything, just know there’s someone behind you itching to suckerpunch you in the kidneys. Part two leans more on Takk and it’s ‘Glósóli’ (I thought I’d try to get at least one title with all the grammar in place), that starts us up after the intermission. All the twisty crocheted rigging is straightened out. I’m not sure if this is a visual metaphor, but the song choices do feel a bit heavier. Not route one, you couldn’t really ever accuse Sigur Ros of that, but there’s a solid immediacy about songs like ‘E-Bow’, with Georg’s bass so powerful it could restart the coldest of hearts and ‘Sæglópur’ with that piano line that detonates into something that sounds like full orchestration, despite only four bodies on stage. As ‘Andvari’ closes, they all leave the stage. It’s not like William Basinski pressing play on a tape loop and fucking off last night, but it’s an odd bit of theatre, but perhaps it’s what Jonsi needs for the reset of ‘Festival’. His chilling solo erupts into that barn storming finale. He’s riled, as are the crowd. It’s fantastic, but I feel a little guilty, it being one of my least favourites. I’m much more taken with the industrial brutalism of ‘Kveikur’ although these do feel like odd choices as we near the end of the set. As it’s crunchy feedback drones out, Jonsi finally speaks, in Icelandic, I like most I suspect don’t get a word, but the tone of thanks comes across. ‘Popplagio’ is chosen to whisk us back out into the Manchester cold. It’s one of those songs that may seem unassuming to to start, but if you want something to quicken the pulse, trust me the apocalyptic crescendo is coming. Over the course of a two hour set we’ve been treated to pretty much every emotion you could hope for. I’ll always remember that first time, but this performance will be etched in my mind for a long time.