There are times in music, and all forms of art, when something comes along that’s so vastly different and so independently unique that it must be experienced to be fully appreciated. Merely describing the music of Sigur Rós — a reclusive band from a small Iceland village that plays slow-building, atmospheric compositions, sometimes without drums, and sings in a made-up language — doesn’t quite translate to much on paper. But listening to any of their eight studio albums, or even better, seeing them perform, reveals why this trio from Reykjavík has a global following and millions of record sales, and exists as an anomaly without genre classification. 

Having co-founded the band back in 1994, Georg Hólm has been in constant awe of the success Sigur Rós has reached. It’s taken him 30 years to overcome his self-doubt and to quit questioning their success, while rediscovering his purpose along the way. His initial reason for starting the band was simply to make music that was fun to perform alongside his school friend Jónsi Yonsa, and the two agreed that once the fun extinguished, that would be the end. Somehow what they began creating in their bedrooms caught on and quickly gained attention far from Iceland. By the 1999 album Ágætis byrjun they began getting cited by famous musicians and actors as inspirations, and their music started getting featured in movies and television shows. The rise to popularity was unexpected (and primarily uncomfortable), but the fun remained in what they were creating, which it still is. 

In the ethereal music of Sigur Rós, Hólm’s bass serves a unique role far beyond that of meat and potatoes foundation: leading the way through winding and often non-repetitive melodies, holding chords for dissonant stretches, and even serving as the entire rhythmic engine on their latest album Átta, which doesn’t have drums. He favors subtlety in his approach, but makes his moments count on surging crescendos with counter-melodies, chords, and even an Ebow. Their last tour found him playing alongside a 41-piece orchestra where string arrangements were formed around his lines as master musicians followed his every move. Unlike at most concerts, no matter how big the venue is, the audience remains silent throughout the course of their songs. Sigur Rós’ patient songwriting has been met with equally patient and enthusiastic listeners, but Hólm’s low end does more than enough to fill out that silence. 

As with every facet of their process, Hólm and his bandmates like to let the music serve as the only insight into Sigur Rós: They tend to leave songs untitled, subject matters unidentified, inspirations hidden, and interviews rare. But we were lucky enough to speak with Hólm at his New York hotel after performing at the Beacon Theater, where he gave us insight on what drives him to create music that he has for so long, and how he lost and found himself as a bass player in that span. 

Looking back on three decades of Sigur Rós, where did the decision come from to make atmospheric music with a made-up language?

I’ve been asking myself that question for years now [laughs]. I think it’s a combination of a few things. We listened to a lot of Led Zeppelin when we were younger, and then really early on in our first year as a band, we made indie rock similar to Smashing Pumpkins, which is what we were listening to at the time. It might sound funny, but I think a lot of our sound — at least my part — comes from insecurity about a lack of playing skill. It created a sound that I was really happy with, and I just continue to work on it. I’ve happily come to realize that this is my sound and it’s what I do. I think I do it well. Everyone has self-doubt, and for years I would look at my playing and wonder why I couldn’t do better or what everyone else was doing. Part of maturity is realizing that this is what I do, and this is what I’m doing as well as I can. 

When you first formed the band, would you have ever fathomed that you’d have the success and recognition that you do?

Probably not, no. We’re a group of Icelandic guys making weird music in made-up languages, just having fun touring the world. We were having this moment in Jakarta when the entire crowd was singing along with us, and we all collectively thought, How the hell did this happen? How can this be possible even? But it was so beautiful. It’s truly proof of how music brings people together. And people find meaning in what they want in music. Music is different from other art forms in that it brings something out of people in a different way, and it does it so strongly. Everybody has intense feelings about what music means to them, which is great. I’ve been asking myself a weird question lately, and it’s probably more for scientists or philosophers, but are humans the only animals on Earth that make sounds for their own and others’ enjoyment? Other animals make sounds and beautiful music even, but it always has another agenda. 

This music you create is so patient, with slow builds into beautiful crescendos and lots of movement. How would you describe your writing from a bass standpoint?

I do think I’ve changed a lot as a bass player since we started. When we were rehearsing before the tour last year, we went over the old songs, and I sat down and figured out what I was doing on those records. I was trying a lot in the old days and doing a lot of melodic things, which is great. But I’ve seemed to settle down with time, and I think I’ve found myself a little better. I’ve come to realize that I use a lot of 5ths and I use that chord and my volume pedal with it. I once said that my goal as a bass player was to be able to play myself to sleep. I just really like the rumbly low end that you feel, where it doesn’t hammer anything in. You can feel it in your skull and it feels warm and comforting, and you just want to lie down and go to bed.

I just really like the rumbly low end that you feel, where it doesn’t hammer anything in. I once said that my goal as a bass player was to be able to play myself to sleep.

So you embrace the deep frequency of bass more than anything. 

That’s precisely it. I just want it to be warm and comforting. I’m not playing a lot of notes, but you definitely will notice if they’re not there. I like the physical sensation, how it makes you feel — to experience that in your body. 

What is it like to have the 41-piece Wordless Music Orchestra perform behind you?

It’s very special. It brings the music to life in a completely different way. It’s also amazing that we rehearsed a few hours before the show and went through some of the songs, and then during the show you can hear how the musicians just put that extra into it. I’m wearing in-ears, and sometimes I take them out just to appreciate the whole orchestra around me. I have some breaks when I’m not playing, and I take them out and just enjoy the moment. 

While touring with the orchestra, Sigur Rós performed without any drums. What was that like for you as a bass player? 

It’s hard [laughs]. I have always played with volume pedals and sometimes reverb as well, and I like the bass to be steadily floaty in that sense. But I also really like hitting every note with that kick drum throughout the course of a song. You feel a satisfaction that only a bass player understands. It is strange playing with an orchestra, because it’s so floaty — almost too floaty. With timpani, there are probably four or five people playing some kind of rhythm. It becomes more obscure in that way. But when things get too floaty, sometimes I decide that I’m taking over, and I just go full in and expect everyone to follow me. Sometimes it works. 

What’s going through your mind during a live show?

It’s a strange mix of solitude and the experience of having a lot of people there experiencing it with you. For us as a band, it’s always this thing where we realize we’re all in it together, and it hits this moment, and we all look at each other, like, Yeah! Then, all of a sudden, you realize that thousands of people are there in front of you enjoying that same moment. We do appreciate the feedback from people. We love hearing that they’re there, and it pushes the energy up. But it’s a very focused moment for us, and we’re really trying to do everything as well as we possibly can. It’s like being alone with a few thousand people.

What was the process in making your recent album Átta? 

I’d like to say that every time we make a record, it’s different and it’s never the same process. I don’t think we mean for it to happen like that, but it seems to end up that way. This time it started off when Jónsi and Kjartan [Sveinsson, pianist] met up and started jamming — nothing serious with no real plans. But they had some really good ideas and started feeling like maybe we should make a new record. Then they called me, and we continued working on it. At the moment we don’t have a drummer aside from a touring drummer, but some of these songs wanted to have drums on them. We played around with electronic drums, but it quickly became apparent that ultimately this record wanted to be without drums. At the same time, it wanted a lot of strings. And then it became what it is. It was a very different process for me as a bass player, because all the other instruments that are played, like Jonsi with his bow and guitar, can just move no matter what the rhythm is. And Kjartan has the piano with lots of reverb, which is very floaty. Then I come in and wonder where I fit in among all of this. Lots of questions went through my mind, and it worked out through the process.

I also really like hitting every note with that kick drum throughout the course of a song. You feel a satisfaction that only a bass player understands.

Which basses did you use for this album?

I’ve always been a Fender guy, and I did actually buy a new one, a Japanese Aerodyne Jazz Bass. I meant to purchase it for the tour, but I ended up using it on the whole album. We changed the pickups and put in some ceramic ones, and it feels so balanced in every way. As bass players know, it’s so much your fingers and your touch, and you can change so much by playing closer to the neck, and so on. But this one is the extreme of that — the slightest touch changes the dynamics so much. I don’t know what it is about that bass, but it just works for everything I need. 

Tell us about your playing technique. 

Most of the time I use my right-hand thumb to pluck, and I like to use it pretty close to the neck, although I do position it farther at times. For some of the more rhythmic songs, I use my two fingers to match up with the kick. It depends. Especially for the orchestra stuff, it’s a lot of very gentle thumbing. 

What is your ideal bass tone, and how do you achieve it? 

I’ve been using the same rig now for a long time, the Mesa Boogie Walkabout. I used to use two combos connected together, but I changed that to the Walkabout head and a 2×15 cab. I only use that, never tweeters; if I use a cab with a tweeter, I turn it off. Tubes are important to me. It just feels warmer with them. It’s been different with the orchestral stuff, because we can’t really have amps or cabs onstage. We started off having the amps on the side of the stage, but then I realized I didn’t really need an amp at all for these shows. I’ve been using a UAD direct box/preamp, and it’s working pretty well. I do have to push it a bit, so I go heavy with the volume and the gain. Ken Thomas, who was a dear friend and producer who passed away, used to say about bass that the only thing you need to do is move air. For me, that’s always been stuck in my mind. So, with that thought, I’ve been wanting my cabinet back again. This setup sounds good, but there’s something about the vibrations of a cabinet and picking those up with a microphone. 

You and Jonsi Yonsa are the remaining founders of the band. What is it like working together for almost three decades? 

We were just talking about it yesterday — this year will be 30 years since we formed the band, and that’s just unreal. I remember when we first started that one of the main missions or rules we had was that we were going to continue this as long as it’s fun. We’ve gone through a lot of times which could be categorized as not fun, and there are obvious ups and downs. At the moment, it just feels great. We’re all maturing in a good way, we’re coming to realize each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and we’re embracing all of that and enjoying it. We started last year’s tour thinking, Here we go again — are we really going to do this? And quite soon into the tour, we were having so much fun and it was so great. We decided then that we should continue this and let’s make some plans for next year, and we’re doing that now.  

Your fans will be relieved to hear that. There always seems to be speculation that each tour or album will be your final one.

We certainly are going to get back out there this year, and who knows what’s beyond that, but we’re having fun doing this and really enjoying it. I can’t tell you when the end will come, because not even we know that. 

You use an Ebow for certain songs, which isn’t commonly used for bass. 

This is for the creators of the Ebow [Heet Sound], and I hope they see this: Why is there no Ebow for the bass? It only sits on a guitar’s strings and can’t go lower. My tech actually made an extension for mine so that it sits perfectly on my bass. I want to go talk to them and show them what I did to see if they can design [a bass Ebow]. My trick to using it is playing it on higher notes, and use an octave pedal to make it lower. It makes a really great sound. 

How and when did you first start playing bass?

I must have been 14 when the original Sigur Rós drummer and I formed a band many years ago in school. I started off wanting to play guitar, and I had no idea how to do it. I didn’t know a single chord. We had a school friend who was a really good guitar player join the band. We rehearsed a lot, and I was “playing” the guitar and doing vocals, and one day the guitar player looked at me and told me it wasn’t working out, and he just handed me a bass. It was a really cool Gibson EB short-scale, and it was so beautiful. I instantly started really getting into it and understanding it. That instrument just suited me better than guitar. I fell in love with the moments when the drums and bass talk to each other and mesh together. It’s so satisfying. 

Which bass players have influenced you the most throughout your career? 

I always really loved John Paul Jones [Led Zeppelin], but he played it so differently than anyone else because he’s not like a typical bass player, and he comes up with beautiful melodies. When I was younger I liked bass players who played a lot of notes, but I never really went that route. And then I realized I didn’t really want to; I looked up to them but knew that it wasn’t what I wanted to do. The instrument itself has always spoken to me. I’ve tried to reject it and convince myself that I’m not a musician, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I am a musician. 

What is it with Iceland that produces such amazing musicians and artists? Is there a regional influence there?

We’ve been asked about this, so it’s something that we’ve considered and tried to answer, which seems to be very difficult. But one way that we’ve tried to understand it is that your surroundings do influence you, and wherever you’re from, you’re properly influenced by your homeland. There could be something more to it, but I have a really hard time putting my finger on it. Iceland generally has an attitude that we’re doing something and you can like it or you don’t, and it’s not really up to us. But we do it anyway and we enjoy it, and if you enjoy it, too, that’s great. That’s been the Icelandic attitude for a long time: independent, but happy-go-lucky a little bit. 

How does bass and its role in music resonate with you personally? 

I’ve always looked at myself as the kind of person who could make friends out of enemies. I guess I’m the mediator, which suits the role of bass. I’ve had my own moments of wanting to be more prominent, and then I realize it’s not what I want. I like how calm the bass is. Some people would say I’m not calm, especially if you ask my daughters when I’m in traffic. But I do like to think that I’m a warm person, and I like the bass to be very warm. I definitely hope that comes through. –BM

Hear Him On

Sigur Rós, Átta [2023]

Gear

Bass Fender Aerodyne, Fender Jazz, Precision, Jaguar Basses

Rig Mesa Boogie Walkabout, Mesa Boogie 2×15 cabinet

Pedals Two EBS Octabass, Two EBS Valve Drive DIs, EBS Multicomp Dual Band Compressor, EBS Multidrive, Boss Chromatic Tuner, Ernie Ball VPJR volume pedal 

Strings D’Addario Roundwound Lights  

Other Heet Sound Ebow, Moog Minitaur 

For more: Click Here