Jonsi @ Roseland Theater, 4.13.10
Photos found on Flickr, not from this show, but represent it accurately
I walked in, meaning to get a drink, but was drawn to the stage and not let go. The hour-and-a-half flew by in five minutes but I would've stayed for years. I wanted it brighter, louder and closer.
Jonsi seamlessly performed the most emotionally arresting night of music I've seen in as long as I can remember, both in it's effervescent, life-affirming orgasmic joy and when it chocked me up—even though the words were in some other, perhaps non-existent, language.
All kinds of crazy instrumentation littered the stage—violin bows on a vibraphone, pump organ, and a trash can trap kit. And fuck, could they all play. The virtuosic drummer performed live what sound on record like glitchy computer sequences—only here they were imbued with life. Jonsi himself stretched out from his pensive alter-ego in Sigur Ros. He danced and bobbed, and after a stunning, gnarly manipulation of a beautiful loop of vocal harmony, Jonsi almost kicked shit around.
The production, with props and video evoking a burnt down taxidermy shop and the spirits of animals since gone were crisp and served to augment—and never overshadow—the players and performance.
The set thumped, soared, became vaporous and thrashed to a dizzying final crescendo. But most of all, it was led by the man in the middle.
Jonsi's voice is a singular being. Perhaps not of this world. It makes you feel things.
After a long, boisterous curtain call I wandered out among mostly ponderous bodies. More than a little dazed and confused, but sure we just shared something profound. The show has been over for more than an hour now, and I have yet to come down.
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