I had never before nor have I since seen a more incredible live show. Hundreds of people huddled in complete silence underneath the flapping roof of the tent, and hundreds more spilled out the sides. We rewarded each song with roaring applause, but once the next number began everyone shushed each other as if we were sitting in church and owed it to God to be reverent. Normally I would have laughed because there is nothing in life so sacred that you should reduce yourself to shushing a stranger. But I stood there and willingly shushed, enthusiastically shushed. I was as shushy as an 80-year-old virgin who won’t subscribe to cable because she might be confronted with a stray ni.pple…read the rest here.
We first watch the music video to Glosoli. Oh. My. God. (sorry, mom, but sometimes it’s my honest reaction) We are stunned. Riveted. Awed. Dooce has not exaggerated.
Next is Hoppípolla. Wow again. Not only is the music great but the video. Like Glosoli, it’s like a short film. And a really good one.
Last we watch Ný Batterí . The band is interviewed a bit and then they perform this amazing, haunting, chilling song. Absolutely wonderful.