Yes, your songs are very pretty Sigur Rós, but really: does any one of your fans out there need this, a half-hearted exercise in soundtracking collecting together a number of rarities (read: cast-offs) and acoustic tracks? No, they certainly do not.

With that song of theirs still accompanying slow-moving images of everything from lionesses pouncing on passing zebras to car wrecks from helicopter cams to buildings collapsing in pixel-perfect detail, probably, there’s no doubt interest in the band remains high, even so long after their NME-stickered breakthrough, Ágætis Byrjun (or, rather, the ‘Svefn-g-englar’ single). But wheeling out these oldies doesn’t aid their critical perceptions any: doubters pointing accusing fingers muttering curse words and complaints about one-trick ponies being flogged to death will find ammo aplenty here.

Single ‘Hljómalind’ is eight years old, and while it’s simplistic by the band’s own admission, its lack of any lasting grasp is alarming for a band so well schooled in the controlling and manipulation of listener emotions. Perhaps if you whacked it over the top of satellite images of clouds moving over African plains really fast it’d have more of an impact. Or it’d just sound like another Sigur Rós song set to another_ montage of pretty mean-nothing nonsense.