Takk Dirty
Sigur Rós graced Indianapolis with their presence on President’s Day. It was as fantastic as I thought it would be. Rather than relying on the disingenuous “quiet-loud-quiet” formula that the Indy Star music critic is using, here is a list of images that their live show conjured for me:
• Freezing fog
• Napping under stained-glass windows
• Ice-coated trees refracting light under street lamps
• Spelunking under stalactites
• My childhood music box
• Swimming with albino fish in a cenoté
• Shattering icicles
My rib cage practically snapped from their bass lines. I am happy.
Side note: Can someone tell me why I am compelled to chew the faces of Icelandic women when they talk? The way they curl their tongues to form purrs of sentences is disarming.
• Freezing fog
• Napping under stained-glass windows
• Ice-coated trees refracting light under street lamps
• Spelunking under stalactites
• My childhood music box
• Swimming with albino fish in a cenoté
• Shattering icicles
My rib cage practically snapped from their bass lines. I am happy.
Side note: Can someone tell me why I am compelled to chew the faces of Icelandic women when they talk? The way they curl their tongues to form purrs of sentences is disarming.
posted by anarchic at 12:48 PM
1 Comments:
The alien/frozen sea imagery works. When I asked some American acquaintances about their impression of Iceland during their visit, their main comment was "it looks like what the moon should look like." Meaning it's all ice and rock.
Yes, Dolly and Appalachia. And all those rounding hills.
And don't forget the Flaming Lips, sunsets and clouds tasting metallic.
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