For the last twenty-three years, Sigur Rós frontman Jón Þór Birgisson, better known as simply Jónsi, has traversed the deepest nearly every span of the human experience, from the glacial joy of Agaetis Byrjun to the isolated chill of Valtari to the dense grief of Kveikur to the bounding, pastoral joy of Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust. And that’s all without mentioning Sigur Rós’ more abstract works or the work of Jónsi & Alex, his ambient collaboration with his partner.
And while his first solo outing, Go, shared a lot of the acoustic, rambling mischievousness of his band’s Með suð while shying away from the amorphous, rolling ambiance of their earlier works, Shiver finds him indulging in his every instinct. He does not restrain himself from any of his tendencies toward atmosphere, preciousness, electronic weirdness, or joyful dance music. The result is an album that feels the most varied and comprehensive of anything he’s ever done.
As much as I devoured every video, track, and alternate version of Lykke Li’s early career, I didn’t give her sophomore release much attention until a few months ago. At first listen, Wounded Rhymes felt sleek and generic in comparison to the playful DIY pop of 
I’ve never been that attracted to conventional pop music. But when I first saw Swedish pop singer Lykke Li, I was instantly entranced.