By Ben Cowlishaw
Staff Writer

A transparent drape surrounded the stage when Sigur Rós began Monday night. For the first song and a half, the ethereal Icelandic post-rock band, along with the string and horn section accompanying them, filled the Verizon Center in Grand Prairie with ambient orchestral music, with only their shadows and silhouettes revealing the incredibly talented musicians behind it.

At the climax of the second song “Ny Batterí,” the drape dropped, revealing front man Jónsi, band members Georg Hólm and Orri Páll Dyrason and the nine multi-instrumentalists supporting the deep, layered music behind them.

Sigur Rós does not make for the typical rock concert. Aside from the pit directly in front of the stage, most of the crowd remained seated through the duration of the show, alluding to the observing of an opera or orchestra than typical rock band. All night, Jónsi may have said a combined ten words in English, politely thanking the crowd for their attendance and wishing everyone a good night.

The rest was in Icelandic, and at times the pseudo-language of Icelandic gibberish the band dubs “Hopelandic,” making it especially hard for concertgoers to sing along. There in lies the intrigue in the fans of the foreign group; the lyrics are a second thought to those who listen for the heavenly, supernatural transcendence of the group.

Jónsi, known for his extreme range and clarity, takes the show to an otherworldly place. His unorthodox guitar playing that involved a violin bow coupled with his voice create a harmonious style that has never been done or heard before.

In the sweet “Festival,” Jónsi held the highest of his falsetto for roughly 40 seconds, much to the amusement – then sheer amazement – of the awestruck audience, before taking a deep breath and continuing to belt out the unearthly vocal melody that continues until the song has a sudden transformation into a fast paced rock jam.

In contrast with the verse-chorus arrangement of music, Sigur Rós builds each of its songs as if overtaking a mountain from deep in a valley. Well into many of songs, which often run more than eight minutes in length, the tense buildup becomes borderline uncomfortable, making the listener feel like a volcano that is well past due for an eruption.

When the tension finally opens, the audience is infiltrated by the most epically layered and organically pure sound. The epitome of this sensation is found in songs like “Varúo” and “Popplagio,” the final song of the encore.

To compliment the striking music is a stunning light show and video display that was customized to the mood of each song. Abstract and blending images of a child’s eyes, underwater scenes and fluid motion evoke previously untapped emotion out of the audience when combined with the ambience and wholeness of the music performed in front of them.

Sigur Rós was unlike any show I had ever been to. I left with a sense of serene tranquility and meditated calmness conflicting with the adrenaline-induced heart-pounding excitement of witnessing the creation of nothing I had ever heard, or seen, before.