Our heart has never known peace with Jónsi & Alex: ten years after Riceboy Sleeps release, they surprisingly announced a bonus album called Lost and Found. A gift designated as a love letter to all the fans all over the world who supported their recent live performances dedicated to the record’s anniversary, that is soon due to embark on a US tour.
The record is a sibling album, like Somers said, It falls somewhere between what was, what is, and what will be. A poetic wrap up that inevitably sounds like an elegant farewell by the duo, who recently seemed to be close to ending its relationship in romantic terms as well (and even Jónsi, widely known for being a very reserved individual, recently admitted it at the Feed’s Patrick Abboud).
Deeply linked to its matriarch, Lost and Found has no linear relationship to it: It gently invokes it, as a déjà-vu difficult to put in phrasing. Hundslappadrífa , that opens up with the usual jubilation of dreamy atmosphere could be in fact a slow-mo version of Glòsoli and thematically relates to Atlas Song like a rib out of the precursory ‘s creation. The tension is liquefied in suspense, but the thrilling asset is perceptive, utopian, spiritually fanciful.
Boy has an axe to grind in spite of being parallel to 1904 but It’s a labour of love. The song slightly deviates from its original rendition into a broader and more obscure artery, populated by pea-soupy sounds overflowing into Stokkseyrar-Dísa, Stokkseyri’s twin, but more of an extended lifespan of the song itself. Paraphrasing Craig Raine ‘ Inside, the heart repeats itself like a sleepy gong/summoning nothing to nothing.’ But here comes the plot twist: in this case is clearly everything to everything.
In this parallel project, there isn’t a clear use of Jónsi’s voice, lending a hand to the limitless sonic soundscapes. Notes are played sparsely, flutter between ambiguous scenarios and opulent cosmos of peace. Sleeping summer unearthly yields inexplicable sensations through batch of notes we already fell in love with in previous occasions. They are the negatives of the original photos, witnessing a meeting of minds that is full of rewarding surprises.
In the sea is the pillar of strength, It engulfes the record as probably no other tracks before, resembling more to the consistent brushstrokes from All Animals, another interminable oneiric Ep finding its Genesis in the fatherly realm of Riceboy Sleeps
The two have the immense talent of translating into music human states of mind and soaked in the same fervent, flaming wonder, these mushy nuances terminate their journey in Wind In Our Ears literally transliterating the feeling of being surrounded by some blustery squeezes.
And when the songs mute themselves in an unpredictable ending, the drowsiness gives these geniuses a vigorous pat on their back.