Sigur Rós was quiet, which was surprising. Because the last time I saw a show at the Moda Center it was the loudest thing I've heard in my life. However, the setting and the crowd in the arena's Theater of the Clouds configuration were so reverent and meditative that a man sitting behind me actually seemed to be working his way through a series of deep breaths, as showtime approached.

The Icelandic atmospheric rock group has been touring with a New York-based ensemble of musicians called Wordless Music Orchestra for over two years now. So while the show's setlist on Friday was identical to their 2024 Seattle show—to change it would have required 40+ players to learn new parts—also present was a level of assuredness that comes from professional musicians dialing in and playing songs they know inside and out. 

Performing without a warm up act, Sigur Rós and its accompanying orchestra seemed to not so much begin as to drift into hearing from across a grand expanse. Even before they entered the stage, artificial fog leant a dreamy haze to an otherwise very utilitarian arrangement of players, every square foot of space occupied with cables and music stands.

Jónsi Birgisson, Georg Hólm, and Kjartan Sveinsson—the three musicians that  currently make up Sigur Rós played at the center of the stage, largely blocked from view by the orchestra's conductor Robert Ames. That's not shade; the front of an orchestra is where a conductor works, and Ames brought plenty of energy to his role, even hopping along with the oompahs of "Sé Lest," in the second act.

The night's first song "Blóðberg," from their most recent album, whispered forth like a slight breeze growing into a gust. Its sheer sparseness showcased the vulnerability of Birgisson's stark vocals, amplified over the crowd of humming instruments. Sigur Rós' vocalist sang with a practiced hesitation, halting and hushing. 

Birgisson has a mythic reputation for singing in unreal language, Volenska/"Hopelandic." However, "Blóðberg" and plenty of other Sigur Rós songs have Icelandic lyrics. If you listen to the band often, you might start thinking of Birgisson's vocals as an additional instrument—adding melody, like synth or strings.

Aside from washes of color, the show's visual interest came from watching the orchestra itself. During "Ekki múkk," a shift to green lighting caught a repositioned tuba, shooting laser-like reflections into the crowd. A tuba doesn't sound like what cartoons and comedy have led you to believe. It rolled in with barely detectable weight, adding to the group's sonic feeling of groaning shipyards and ocean roar. (It's also possible that I think that because I already know the band is Icelandic, so my mind automatically leans towards a sparse and salty vibe.)

If the Pixies's song progression style can be described as LoudQuietLoud, Sigur Rós' is QuietQuietLoud. The soundscapes dipped and swelled from reverie to ecstasy. Two thirds of the way through we were able to hear a laden cart rattling backstage until it abruptly stopped, which merely felt like a testament to the sonic range at play.

The show's crowd was thick with real ones, and most phones remained dark and unseen, despite the common practice of folks recording and "immortalizing the moment"—whilst ruining it for everyone around them. It may also have helped that Sigur Rós was not playing the hits. We were seven songs deep before the twinkling piano of "Starálfur" danced into our ears. 

All of the songs worked well with orchestral accompaniment but "Starálfur" snapped the audience from its dreamy reverie and into… well... ebullient reverie. Logically, I knew that the string section had been playing this whole time, but suddenly they were laying down goosebump-inducing levels of sweet sounds.

As this orchestra tour winds down, wrapping up in Mexico City later this month, the band has announced on social media that this leg will conclude their performances with Wordless Music Orchestra. It makes sense—they've been playing this show for over two years. However, I'm skeptical of taking the notion further, that this is Sigur Rós' last tour with an orchestra. After all, in the grand flux of trend that is groups touring with classical accompaniment, we're talking about a group that actually incorporates symphonic instruments into their compositions. This is far from the last tuba catching light on a Sigur Rós stage.