Pitchfork

In the context of the Sigur Rós sonic continuum, this B-side lies closer to the "fall into deadly cold waters and then watch helplessly as the ice above you refreezes" silent-depression end than the "cure cancer, safely disarm all nuclear weapons, and invent an eco-friendly oil alternative in one day while still having time to make your sweetheart dinner" ceaseless-triumph end. It's everything you'd expect from a Sigur Rós flip: humble, ethereal, quaint, string-laden. It's pretty in a fairly pedestrian way, like Julia Stiles.

This scares me, especially after viewing a "photostream"-- basically a glorified internet slideshow-- the band set up so fans can post and view their own pictures alongside other fans' pictures while a Sigur Rós song plays in the background. To me, this highly democratic gesture is sweet in theory yet ultimately destructive.

Lacking in specificity and excelling in vague mood, Sigur Rós' music is a particularly great vessel for listeners to project their own life experiences upon, transforming them into magnificent events. Yet, put simply, the music loses all impact when attached to strangers' photos of a ketchup heart on a hamburger bun or a bunch of douchebags giving the peace sign. And "Ófriður", meanwhile, isn't that great of a life soundtrack for anybody because it just kind of sits there.