When Sigur Rós' second album "Ágætis Byrjun" broke into the big time in 1999, only a passing reference was made to the fact that it was actually the band's second album. Most critics outside of Iceland seemed to overlook the fact that in 1997, the band had released another album, which, although it failed to arouse much interest outside of Iceland, was a modest hit within that country. Even after their third album, 2002's bizarrely titled "( )" was released to critical acclaim, the first album remained an obscure relic that was difficult to get a hold of outside of Iceland, a little known part of the history of a band that was making the world sit up and take notice of it.

This is all going to change now, due to One Little Indian's re-release of the record in the English-speaking world. Whether you're a Sigur Rós completist, or just interested in hearing what the band got up to before they were famous, "Von" is an interesting, if often uneven listen. Still, within the massive echoing ambient pieces which pervade the album, it's quite easy to see the ideas beginning to develop that would lead to the bombastic beauty of "Ágætis Byrjun" a couple of years later.

The album opens up with a track entitled Sigur Rós, which is essentially ten minutes of echoing, shrieking, and heavily processed noise. It's totally unlike their later work, which is always focused and has a goal, even if it takes the scenic route to reach that goal. Dögun, which follows it up, is similarly ambient and directionless, sounding something like a heavenly choir's singing, interrupted by a rainstorm. Up to this point, it's all very pretty and well-constructed, but the actual entertainment value for listening to what is more or less a random jumble of sounds is quite questionable.

It's at this point, about fifteen minutes after the start of the album, that the first actual song begins. Hún Jörð opens with Jónsi Birgisson's now-familiar voice and some minimal backing, before a crunching, distorted guitar line crashes into the song and loops around like a whirlwind. It's not heavy metal, exactly, but it's a lot more abrasive and coarse than the Sigur Rós that we're used to. Exactly the opposite approach is used on Myrkur, the next fully-formed song, which is driven by a bouncing beat, and features a swirling, heavily processed guitar melody that brings to mind bands like Slowdive and My Bloody Valentine.

Without a doubt though, the finest moment on the entire album is the title track, Von. It features none of the soaring strings or epic crescendos that the band is known for, and simply cruises along on a minimal bed of what sounds like tom-toms, an acoustic guitar, and Jónsi's echoed vocals. It's a sublimely beautiful piece of music, and easily one of the best songs ever recorded by the band.

Unfortunately for every Von or Myrkur, there's a song like Mistur or Leit Að Lífi, which suffer from a complete lack of direction, and an oversupply of pretentiousness. It's all very well to create a bunch of interesting sounds and noises, but at this point in their career, Sigur Rós hadn't yet figured out how to incorporate them properly into their music. So, they're left lying around here, like the band didn't know what to do with them, and just shoved them in any place that they would fit.

Whether this record is worth getting depends on how accessible you've found the band's previous music, and how much filler you're willing to dig through to get to the gems contained within this album. Certainly, Von, Syndir Guðs and Myrkur make this album worth the price of admission, but compared to other Sigur Rós albums, it's slim pickings. Still, with the re-release, at least you'll get the chance to listen to it, and despite the album's flaws, it's still a fascinating listen.