The tour-dóttirs of Sigur Rós, Amiina (formerly Amina) is the string quartet that has accompanied the band on the road since Ágætis Byrjun. They also toured and arranged for Sigur Rós' () in its entirety and contributed to a couple of tracks on Takk... Solo efforts began in 2004 when they gathered all the instruments in their possession and began recording, though on this full-length debut the strings-- two violins, a viola and a cello-- remain at the forefront. Indeed, when the strings are given the spotlight, the strongest songs are created; ditherings with Theremin, xylophone, and scuttling drum machine are less impressive.
In the tradition of their male forebears, tonal variation created by the mix of acoustics and electrics, at least on paper, aids the process. But again, the most variation and intricacy comes from the strings, which sound plugged in, giving the production a honeyed, intimate atmosphere, as the instruments are more accessible to the ear and can be bowed less forcefully. On "Rugla", the group introduces a round of a melody with a warm electric guitar, which is complemented by a xylophone's complex approximation of its makeshift bassline. Soon violin and viola join in, adding a sprightly energy. They are there only to add support to the melody, really, but end up taking it over, their tones standing out so distinctly from the rather predictable plunks and plucks of the xylophone. The latter instrument is a staple of Sigur Rós and is here mimicked right down to the leaden adagio tempo, which reappears on the rustles of "Seoul", a theremin smoothing the variegated percussive tapestry with soaring, drawn-out notes.
On many tracks, including "Seoul" and "Sexfaldur", the group utilizes guitars as percussion, tapping what can be tapped, plucking what can't-- meaning all strings on deck. This is a strength that's seen on some of Björk's work, like Vespertine's "Frosti". "Sexfaldur" is one of the prettiest tracks, its loops of twinkling incandescence standing effectively as a beat, the entire composition hinged, like many of the songs on (), on the most delicate instruments fused into strong, sure polyphony. But importantly, the performance retains an unstructured, organic quality-- uncomputerized, unfettered. Alternating these more upbeat numbers with floating lilies like "Kolapot" only emphasizes the plasmic, impromptu nature of the album. Still, the effect of such tracks doesn't match up to their events; "Kolapot", which evolves into a slow dance of xylophone, pizzicato, and non-verbal vocal choral calls, is too understated, yet not enmeshed enough in its own atmosphere; it seems to require either more layers, more vocals, or a more robust rhythm section.
"Lóri" introduces a harpsichord, marching drum, and the usual fare of xylophone and strings. Reminiscent of Efterklang's work, the song undulates in a looped pattern of winds and strings, but never resolves or evolves, simply floating in close variations of its original pattern. The force of the song is promising, but its melody is dull. The antidotal softness of "Hilli" and the final track, "Boga", brings similar skeletal structures to the mix, and here the lack of drums or bassline fits this improvisational bent. "Hilli" is a wandering, climbing piece bolstered by a pretty female chorus, but as with many of the songs, the reflexive meanderings of the players could benefit from more structure, playing less like accompanists and more like a fully-fledged group.
