詩格洛絲的美麗與哀愁

其他

酸微

It's all about ambiguity

Aesthetics is the agnosia of eyesight, the ignorance of beauty, privilege of sensibility. It seems a very bizarre notion: I may find Turner’s landscape paints are bewitching while showing none of my interests to Modrian’s artworks. Just like people complain that Sigur ros’ music is merely vague with completely meaningless lyrics, playing a random bow which is not meant to be associated with the electric guitar.

Is it wicked not to care about those anyway? Their songs mean everything for me and it’s very difficult for me to explain my feeling about them. For instance it’s just like a boy who writes me love-poems as many as he can; plays every sort of musical instruments that I love. He dedicates every second to me, we play duet, we play accordion, we sing. You can simply tell that he’s just the ideal one that I want to spend time with for the rest of my life. We cuddled up on the pasture, making plans about the future, the most adorable thing is we are entirely different people but we share lots of same interest. We appreciate each other; likewise we both love Michael Nyman. However once you realised it’s such a pity that I can’t be with him at the present, helplessly, I can only see him fall. All the expectation burst into tears, it’s so called bitter-sweet. If I am using metaphor to describe their music, I’d say that obsessing with ginger boys, but I seem more fascinated by the rascals. You can’t tell the reason why I fancy Decadents, either do I. Maybe their charms imply commands and orders. I’ve been cursed for chasing them as if I was sinking in the deep blue ocean, just like I would be nothing without air.

Some of the people are quite amazed by the way of my writing, perhaps it appears to be heading off my heart and effortless. But I have the same problem with everything. Deducing from my childhood, even though I could use languages to express my feeling, still I found it was slightly hard to show my thoughts by speech. Maybe I have a trait of narrating ability; however it’s very difficult for me to express the sentiment totally neither in tongue, nor in my first language. It’s a gift for having a set of own language in my mind; it is very similar to the glossolalia that Jonsi, the frontman of Sigur ros, uses the so-called hopelandic in his songs to set us free. From the video of Svefn-g-englar song, everyone is the noblesse of lives. Whilst we are standing on top of the field, looking upon the sky and feel the mercy of the universe. It is purely speechless, wordless, and indescribable.

For me, Sigur ros’ euphony is the sound of nature, it’s so plain that I can’t even depict. I would say that is much more like the guitar of melody, with cacophony. Since it is indefinite, their harmony can be defined with everything. It seemed complicated, but my interpretation of their bitter-sweet symphony is Melpomene the Greek goddess Pandora with the box of sorrow perhaps. It’s so sugary that you can’t resist, but it’s a little bit bitter when you taste them.

Here comes the second year after Sigur ros live in Hong Kong. Up to the present I can’t find any concert which is capable to replace that evening since it was like all of the best time of my life has compressed in an immense music hall. I’ll never forget those hours I had been stricken by tearfulness. Whenever I listen to Untitled 2 I seem seeing that Jonsi was standing on the stage, with his Gibson Les Paul guitar and bow, spending all of his strength to move my passion, to melt me into tear-drippag. Orri’s drumming like the strong heartbeat, with every shiver of hit.

The latest album Hvarf and Heim are another approach of Sigur ros’s music, very much alike an innocent maiden without make-up. Like yeanlings and calves are wandering up the mountain tenderly, I cherish them with my limited words for praise dearly. Grand album with simple notes afterwards, each track is based on the previous songs of the past works. Casting away the additional, it occurs with a different acoustic version. Voice accompany with piano melody, was cocooned in a trait of clear instruments, they are trying to tell you music can be splendid without any extra decorations. Every thrust of my heart is still trembling, they’ve saved my soul, leaded me to the bliss. I feel blessed for hearing them when the morning is nigh, in my sleepwalking dreams heading off to Iceland where the tranquillity is placed.

I love thee, thou art my mute moaner.