Pitchfork

If Sigur Rós were gonna try to shock listeners with an off-the-cuff Iron Maiden homage-- and it's not as if they haven't got the singer to pull it off-- this indie EP would be the place to do it. Well... there's always the next one, I guess. A collector-baiting addendum to last year's exquisite Takk, this CD/DVD bundle includes the title track, three previously unreleased outtakes, and videos for "Glósóli", "Hoppípolla", and "Sæglópur". As for the new tracks, instead of briefly leaving their comfort zone as they did on the Inuit-scat rain-dance finale of the Ba Ba Ti Ki Di Do EP, Sigur Rós merely offer a few characteristic, subdued denouements. And while it's refreshing to see their latest vids in high-gloss-- as opposed to today's de rigueur YouTube pixilation-- they all reiterate past visual tropes (kids, slow-motion) yet lack the emotional impact of career bests "Viðrar Vel Til Loftárása" (gay soccer teens) and "Untitled #1" (apocalypse recess). For a band that's commonly criticized as pretentiously one-note, Sigur Rós seem more than happy to feed into that notion here.

Plus, let's face it, the grand scope of Sigur Rós' music is best heard over the course of an album; it all but demands ample gestation time for the bows to begin bearing down and singer Jónsi Birgisson to start calling the seals. Unfortunately, the group doesn't attempt to adapt to the shorter medium here. Rather, they use the muted limelight to simply showcase their milder side; apart from the title track's wailing bombast, nary a distorted guitar is heard on the rest of the audio disc.

The tone of Sæglópur's soft-focused extras stands in contrast to the title song. Possibly Takk's finest moment, the eight-minute "Sæglópur" skews Sigur Rós' typical long-buildup/short-peak trajectory, breaking well before the halfway point, and then barreling like a warship in a Deadliest Catch-style tempest. The brooding-piano instrumental "Refur" could be rewarding as an interlude but here it's largely pointless. "O Fridur" provides the release's only fresh vocals over a repetitive elegy of shimmering strings and flutes. Closer "Kafari", meanwhile, barely raises above a whisper, although its smoothed-out take on the band's rise-and-fall formula-- pushed along by raining glockenspiel plinks-- makes it the de facto highlight amidst the lulling unreleased material.

The package's accompanying DVD finds the band playing it safe as well. As one of the only contemporary rock groups to deserve the "cinematic" tag, Sigur Rós can be brilliant at capturing their unique sonics on film. Famous for emphasizing the collision between childlike innocence and the oppressive world of adulthood, their Neverland visual fables often add gravity to the accompanying supersonic howls and airy atmospherics. But, while Takk found the band emphasizing their aural strengths in revelatory fashion, its videos halt that momentum, instead relying on rehashed kid's stuff.

Set against surreal skies and a craggy landscape, "Glósóli" is a marvel to look at and its widescreen cinematography outdoes most studio features. Yet its little-tyke Pied Piper march lacks the visceral conflict that defines their best sound/vision pieces. "Hoppípolla" is worse; the cheap thrill of having senior citizens act like kids is too easy a twist to their favorite motif. "Sæglópur"'s video is the darkest but it could also be band's least compelling yet: Its live-action underwater adventure features a (spoiler alert!) young man being chased by an octopus-like creature... and that's basically it.

It's funny to think about all the Radiohead comparisons that greeted Sigur Rós when they initially took off six years ago; whereas Thom Yorke and co. thrive on experimentation and change, Iceland's premier pool-recorders seem immune to it. Since they have such a singular sound-- one which remarkably has yet to be successfully emulated-- slight improvements here and there are often good enough. But Sæglópur's quiet dabbles, while quaint, are unnecessary when held against the triumphant Takk. And, dudes, next video? How about some grown-ups doing grown-up things. Crazy, I know.