Album Info Hide Show Artist: Sigur Rs Album: ( ) Released: Europe, 2020 Tracklist: A1 Untitled A2 Untitled A3 Untitled B1 Untitled B2 Untitled C1 Untitled C2 Untitled D Untitled Info About Buying Vinyl From Our Record Store We are a small independent record store located at 211 High St, Preston in Melbourne, Australia (North of Northcote, between Thornbury & Reservoir) We buy and sell new and used vinyl records – if you have a collection you’d like to sell please click here . We ship Australia wide for a flat rate of $10 for standard shipping or $15 for express post. Free Shipping for orders $150 and over. You can also pick up your order in store, just select Local Pickup at the checkout. We also ship internationally – prices vary depending on weight and location. We ship vinyls in thick, rigid carboard mailers with a crushable zone on either side, and for extra safety we bubble wrap the records. In stock vinyl is usally shipped next business day, please check the availability field at the top of the product page to see whether the record is currently in stock or if it is available from the supplier as well as estimated shipping times. If you order an in stock item together with a pre order or back order (listed as available from supplier rather than in stock) then the order will be shipped together when all items arrive. If you would like the in stock items shipped first please place two separate orders or contact us to arrange shipping items separately. We are strongly committed to customer satisfaction. If you experience any problems with your order contact us so we can rectify the situation. If the record arrives damaged or doesn’t arrive we will cover the cost of replacing or returning the record. If you change your mind you have 30 days to return your record but you must cover the cost of returning it to the store. You can contact our Melbourne record shop at (03) 9939 3807 or at [email protected] Happy Listening! Description Hide Show Some albums invite you in; Sigur Rs ( ) draws a circle around you and leaves you to float. Coming in 2002, after gtis byrjun turned them from Reykjavk secrets into global post-rock torchbearers, this felt like a dare. Eight untitled tracks. A near-blank package with no printed lyrics or song names, just those two parentheses staring back. Vocals in the bands invented, syllable-rich Hopelandic. It sounds like a lot of obscurity, but the record itself is generous, patient, and weirdly welcoming if you give it a quiet room. They made it at Sundlaugin, the bands own studio just outside Reykjavk, a former swimming pool they converted into a recording space. You can hear that cavernous bloom in every piano decay and drum hit. Jnsi Birgissons guitar, played with a cello bow, hangs in the air like weather. Kjartan Sveinssons organ and keys feel churchlike without being pious. Georg Hlms bass moves slowly, almost tidal. Orri Pll Drasons drumming is soft-edged at first, then suddenly volcanic. The production is simple, and thats the point. The room does half the work. The records structure is famously two-sided, a soft-lit first half and a darker, noisier second. Untitled #1, known by fans as Vaka, sets the key. A repeating piano figure, brushed drums, and choir-like vocals slowly stack into a lullaby that still carries a hint of dread. Its video, directed by Floria Sigismondi, took Best Video at the 2003 MTV Europe Music Awards, a rare moment when a quiet, artful clip beat out pop behemoths. Untitled #3 (Samskeyti) is even more fragile, a piano loop that feels like a memory playing back on a looped Super 8 reel. If youve ever let it run while making tea on a rainy night, you know how the room starts to glow. Untitled #4 is the records hinge. Called Njsnavlin on setlists and nicknamed The Nothing Song in Cameron Crowes film Vanilla Sky, an early version showed up in the movie a year before the album, sneaking this sound into multiplexes before indie heads could even argue about it online. The studio cut here rises from a slow organ shimmer into a vast, aching crest and then drifts away, like the light changing in a long Icelandic afternoon. Flip the mood and you get the second halfs gravity. Untitled #7, often called Daualagi or the death song, leans into menace without losing beauty, a long walk across black sand with the ocean pulling at your ankles. The closer, Untitled #8, nicknamed Popplagi, is a detonation. Live, it ended shows for years, building and building until Drasons drums are a storm and Jnsis bowed guitar becomes a siren. On record, it still feels like the end of something, maybe the end of holding your breath. Theres a reason this minimal thing became a big deal. The band refused to spell anything out and somehow made a record people projected meaning onto in a shared way. The blank booklet famously shipped with the CD wasnt a gimmick; it was an invitation. Critics heard it. Publications like Pitchfork and The Guardian praised its patience and scale, and fans treated it like a landscape they could return to, not a puzzle to solve. For a group singing in a made-up language, thats quite a trick, though Hopelandic is more a vocal instrument than a code. You dont translate it; you ride it. If you collect Sigur Rs vinyl, ( ) is where the format quietly shows off. The space around those slow piano figures feels bigger on wax, and the crescendos dont smear the way some digital versions do. The ( ) vinyl pressing also makes the side break feel meaningful, a literal breath between the gentle first half and the stormy back end. If youre hunting Sigur Rs albums on vinyl, this sits next to gtis byrjun as the essential pair. You can buy Sigur Rs records online, of course, but its the kind of album you hope to stumble across while crate-digging. I once saw a slightly scuffed copy in a Melbourne record store, the parentheses winking through a used-bin sleeve, and it felt like finding a message in a bottle. For friends browsing vinyl records Australia shops or overseas, this is the one I nudge them toward when they want a record that makes the room feel different. Two decades on, ( ) hasnt dated. It asks for time and rewards it, nudging you toward stillness while sneaking in a lot of feeling. Sit with it, let the strings and organ bloom, and when Popplagi finally tips over the edge, dont be surprised if you stand up without noticing. Thats the spell this band casts, and this album might be the purest version of it. Product Reviews Hide Show Write a Review