I first came across Sigur Rós in 2000 and I remember it like it was yesterday...

A school friend of mine had spent three or four weeks trying to tell me about this amazing band he'd seen while he was in Edinburgh over the summer. They were foreign and he couldn't say their name [as an aside, I went to the show at Hammersmith last year and touts were outside trying to flog tickets to see "Sugar Rush"]. He'd bought an album; also presented to me as having a title his mouth wasn't dextrous enough to expel.  He described it with the usual adjectives thrown at the band and I thought he was being a bit gay but I took him seriously; we were united in our Radiohead fandom so I valued his word (and still do). To stop him banging on I asked him to lend it to me so I could hear for myself. Next day I came in and he was waiting for me at the gates. He was serious about me hearing this stuff. He handed over a copy of Ágætis Byrjun and told me I should listen to it loud.

Drama was a doss, then double Science with Mr Tanner. Tanner liked AC/DC. He said anyone who wasn't moved by Back in Black was effectively dead. He had time for me 'cause I was going through a phase of wearing my Dad's battered Levi jacket and he thought I was into the same stuff as him. Went to the shops for lunch. Had a cheese salad sandwich and an iced finger bun from Skelton's bakery. Bought Melody Maker (Radiohead were on the front cover) to read in the library. I do know I'd bought it once already that week but left it at home and I couldn't face reading a proper book. I put the CD in my Discman (iPods weren't invented) and got stuck in. My friend was right. This was a majestic and intricate work. Every bit as powerful and emotive as he'd suggested. I had double Maths and German and Graphic Design in the afternoon, or at least I would have if I'd not gone home to play the album on my Dad's top-of-the-range (in 1988) hi-fi. My folks were at work so I played it loud, over and over again. It may have been because I was a hormonal teenager into Elliott Smith and Bright Eyes but I spent the whole afternoon in a state of pre-tear quivering lip. I was moved and dramatic as it may sound, I knew that I couldn't ever face living without this collection of stunning, stunning songs.

That following Saturday I spent my paper-round money on my own copy and have probably played it at least once a month since then. I was hooked and sought everything I could. Virgin Megastores imported their debut, Von, for me and I rinsed that as well. I've followed attentively ever since and missed nothing. I have ink (that's cool slang for 'Tattoos'). A few bits and pieces on my forearms that speak of the things I hold dear. I've yet to get a Sigur Rós tattoo but it's on my list. Or at least it was until the spur of the moment announcement that the release of Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust was imminent - this group is no longer a leftfield post-rock act, they have major label backing and there isn't a single venue in the world they couldn't sell out at a moments notice. They have achieved a significant commercial success that has made them a (difficult to pronounce) household name. I pride myself on being trendy and I'm D.I.Y. 'til I die. I love Top Gear but I wouldn't want to have it permanently etched on my flesh because any old twat could do that and I'm not any old twat so I have begun to doubt it as a possibility.

I listened to Zane Lowe's show a week or so ago to hear the first airing of Gobbledigook and downloaded it as soon as it was offered up as a free mp3. I loved, no - love the song. It's not what I expected but it is unmistakably my boys.

Despite doing a fair bit of writing and whoring myself out to all and sundry, I don't really consider myself a journalist. More a blagger. I've seen all sorts of amazing shows and like a lot of folk, I have more records than I could physically listen to if I lived to a hundred years old but having Með suð... arrive through my door a week before its release has to be one of the finest moments in my journalistic career.

I touched on it briefly already but, I was taken by an apprehension. After the shift to the major and the massive success of Takk I worried that there may have been an overly commercial feel to the new record. They touched on it with Hoppipolla and Sæglópur in a way and earned themselves some Coldplay fans. I didn't want my special thing to be sullied by this sort of crossover. I never played the new one straight away. I waited for Lee and Emily - my best friend and my beau respectively - to come to mine so we could all hear it together and so they could provide moral support if I was not to fall in love with it. We sat in silence for the duration and coupled the sounds with repeated viewings of this delightful and surreal piece of footage...

Gobbledigook is a brilliant opener. A dramatic change of pace in some respects. Hearing the natural and warm sound of acoustic guitars playing chords is a bit weird when you think of the sweeping reverbed guitar drones and ambient piano melodies from ( ). The track (and the album to some extent) is playful and sprightly and is perfectly represented by Ryan McGinley's artwork and of course the song's banging video. Naked youths frolic and cavort with nature and without hindrance or judgment. It sets the tone wonderfully. Can anyone tell me what's making that "lalalalalalalalalalala" sound? Is it a sampled vocal? Is it a Mellotron? None of the above? I can't say for sure but it's wicked either way.

Track two, Inní mér syngur vitleysingur opens with a brass fanfare, muffled as if it were being heard from a TV in another room perhaps. These little additions that don't necessarily add to the song as such are always wonderful to hear from any group and this is no different. Inní continues the upbeat feel of the LP. Glocks and Vibes chirp whilst Georg drives the song with the bassline. The drums walk the song; snare, kick and open hats are bashed on every beat, mixed up a little with half-time riff thrown in here and there. Jonsi sings his ditty with his true voice for the most part, the falsetto is held back for harmonies. Slowly and slyly the song pounds along and cheeky horns are snuck in. There's a slow-down, then a repetitive vocal looped over whilst the horns, along with the strings build to a soft crescendo. Then a STOP! a 1-2-3-4 type break and then a big finish. This has stadium anthem written all over it.

Góðan daginn is our number three and the first few plucked acoustic guitar notes sound a little like the intro to Idlewild's The Quiet Crown. This is a slow mover with instrumentation I can't put my finger on. The kind of pads and squeals we're used to. I'd guess at tremolo picked guitar swathed in spacey delays but I could be wrong. Despite feeling a little more like a track from ( ), it's not as maudlin. The atmosphere is still uplifting despite the minor key which is a brilliant skill. I think the sound of hands moving up and down the fretboard help retain an earthly feel rather than an ethereal. I can't help but imagine this track live. As a full work, this album will most certainly fit well with the festival season and this summer will surely see some stunning performances in the open air.

Next up, Við spilum endalaust (that's one half of the album title if you hadn't noticed) is yet another anthem. Ten seconds in and the bass is dominating. A gentle introduction from Jonsi and then, at only one minute in, you want to be surrounded by people. People marching somewhere important to perform some magnificently selfless act to save the world. You don't seem to notice how well your emotions are being manipulated but this is their trick anyway. There are times when you simply hear, times when you must listen and times when you just 'feel' the music. It's fucking exhausting. In a good way.

Festival next, yes 'Festival', an English word. No English speaking though so don't get excited. This one is sparse. There's one organ, a bit of bowed guitar and Jonsi's vocal, seemingly in an aircraft hangar. No somewhere more pretty; a cathedral. I feel soothed by this one. Relaxed, until Holm's bass once again dives in with some aggression, recruits Orri in Animal mode and together they take the track to somewhere much more, erm, much more 'kick-arse'. Another unnecessary flourish comes at the end of the whole thing when we hear the vocal melody being gently whistled. Dunno why it's there but I like it.

Track six, Suð í eyrum (the other half of the album's title) is more of the same. Hold on, hold on... This isn't working for me, a Sigur Rós album doesn't need to be reviewed track-by-track. I think they're kinda above it in some ways. The long and the short of it is that I was wrong to be a Doubting Thomas. This is a band who know what they're doing, even if we the fans (or the Uber-fans) don't quite get it at first.

I can't leave it there though. There are more highlights. The standout track on the album is without doubt Ára bátur. Touching almost nine minutes in length, it has everything you'd ever need from any piece of music. It's extravagant and indulgent and emotive beyond comparison. It really kicks in just past the seven minute mark at which point the London Oratory Boy’s Choir and the London Sinfonietta really start earning their keep. They build and build until nearly the eighth minute when we hear a huge two-handed orchestral cymbal crash and it's at this point I say to Tanner, "If this bit doesn't move you, then you truly must be dead". Whichever film it is that gets lucky enough to have this track included in its soundtrack will win an Oscar.

Maybe it's because I know some of it was recorded at Abbey Road, I can hear elements of the studio on these tracks. Is that a daft thing to say? I don't care. Myriad recordings have been made there but the place BELONGS, without a doubt, to the Beatles. I don't even know if Illgresi is one of the tracks laid down in North London but the clawhammer finger-picking technique coupled with my romanticism put me in mind of Blackbird.

All Alright even has a vocal in the English language - still difficult to decipher though... No, I can't do it. I'm studying it too much. I'd misled myself into believing that sharing the majesty of Sigur Rós with the rest of the world would in some way taint it. I was wrong. Dead wrong. Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust is no different to their previous works. It ticks all the boxes and I would recommend it to anyone. I don't care if my Mum likes them. I don't care if McDonalds use a track on an advert. I don't care if Amazon tells me that 'People who bought this also bought The Pigeon [Fucking] Detectives'. This record is everything I wanted it to be, tainted only by my own stupidity. I shall file it along with the others and refer to it as and when I want to be taken by it. I look forward to whatever else they may drop on the world and this time I won't get so far up my own arse about it. The live shows are a different matter though; I don't want to have to consort with great unwashed.

Release date: 23/06/08
Artist website: www.sigur-ros.co.uk
Label: EMI

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