Live Review: Sigur Rós, Dark Horses

Dark Horses' music thankfully has nothing to do with Switchfoot or Nickelback, yet the Brighton-based upstarts still seemed a slightly odd choice to support the Icelandic greats. Still, it was perfectly timed, their debut album Black Music having just dropped and their Harvest set over east a few days prior getting tongues wagging. Their sound proved to have links to Sigur Rós' as well, though with the more shadowy corners of their stable. Considering their drummer touts playing “Percussion/Chains”, you knew you weren't in for a feel-good party. Whilst Sigur dance their darkness amongst a bed of light, these Horses trotted along much gloomier paths. Their tambourine-shaking, Swedish-born and totes babing frontwoman Lisa Elle shone in the dampness, her breathy intro to final track Rose – coupled with some rather hypnotic dance moves – proving these Horses are ones worth betting on winning more races, but not likely pure-breed thoroughbreds.

Whilst cheesy word puns might easily be employed to review a Dark Horses show, Sigur Rós are one of those few acts that really are difficult to describe. After all, it's difficult to speak when you've had your breath stolen away. Such is the power of Sigur Rós' mixture of ethereal, time-stopping, emotionally packed post-post-rock (see?), experiencing them reproducing it live should be on everyone's bucket list. Mind, seeing the band for the first time at Perth Concert Hall and being so blown away that many have since hesitated seeing them again for fear of spoiling the mystical memory, locking in the similarly magical Belvoir Amphitheatre as venue coaxed this scribe to dare it. And thank goodness we did. From the glockenspiel intro to set opener í gær from Hvarf/Heim right through to the closing cataclysmic-like crescendos of the final song in their three-song encore, Popplagið aka The Pop Song aka Untitled 8 from (), Sigur Rós took the sold-out Amphitheatre on an exhilarating journey through blinding light and fragile shade, deafening peaks and truly beautiful abysses. There was perhaps a greater focus on the last few albums, yet inclusions of tracks from most came as more than a welcome relief to fans of their older material. One such highlight was from 1999's classic album Ágætis byrjun, the sombre, entrancing Svefn-g-englar finishing with frontman/resident genius Jónsi Birgisson putting down his bow to sing into his guitar, his falsetto echoing through his guitar and floating through the venue with the ability to freeze everyone's attention and command complete silence.

Sure there was a lack of greatest smile weapon Gobbledigook, a few filler song choices that led to a lag two thirds of the way into the first set and the performance's impact seeming less for those who experienced their 2006 PCH show, but the combination of keys, drums, violins, trumpet, trombone, glock, xylophone, guitars, bass, voices and more meant the 11 people on stage formed into a powerful orchestra, capable of manipulating our emotions at will. Whether it was Jónsi's bow shredding in set closer Hafsól, his humorously humble Icelandic intro to new gem Brennisteinn or his incredibly maintained vocal note halfway through Festival whilst stardust swirled on the screens behind, few sensible people could have left the venue without understanding that Jónsi, and Sigur Rós, are truly masters of the modern music age. And we haven't even begun to discuss their revolutionary creation and mind-blowing live use of the Vonlenska language, aka Hopelandic…