The audio disc, recorded at Brussles' Ancienne Belgique, is mastered with a clarity akin to the most vivid of lucid dreams, permeated intermittently by rapturous applause; Go Do invokes reminiscence on emotion-pummelling shows under kaleidoscopic tarpaulin at a handful of UK festivals over the aestival months, whilst the Amiina-esque plinks of Tornado are stirring in the most subtle, almost suicidal of ways. For those unfortunate enough to have missed out on the feathered headdresses and dual drumming of Jónsi's live show, and hence on its cataclysmically effervescent denouement in the form of Grow Till Tall, at a sprawling ten-plus minutes, the version here committed to polycarbonate plastic is arrestingly beautiful, the sound of the last drops of blood dripping from your heart were it skewered by Birgisson's wispy bow. Whilst for those unable or unwilling to marvel and mumble, to weep and rejoice in Jónsi's presence in the live setting Go Live provides adequate, if perhaps underwhelming insight into all that could have been, for those once in attendance for a smidgen of their existence, the real wonder of this exquisite release lies in the multiple unreleased recordings here captured and conglomerated. From the downtrodden acoustic despondence of Icicle Sleeves, to impeccably wailed opener Stars In Still Water, the future looks as bright as the Northern Lights, Saint Naive sounding resplendently hymnal and heartbroken in equal measure. New Piano Song, whilst perhaps slightly less fully formed, is overtly simplistic and reclines, almost, in the major key. Animal Arithmetic is still all too frenetic, and Kolnidur a little too formulaic, although the point midway through Sinking Friendships in which his androgynous coo almost cracks (skip to 3:35) is enough to rope in any lingering disaffections.
The DVD meanwhile, something of a rehearsal recorded at London's 3 Mills Studios, is cinematographically sublime, as glockenspiels and guitars dwindle in and out of focus and shadow, remaining aurally intact throughout. As heart-wrenching as any number of Hollywood pseudo-hits, intermingled sea-swept visuals and enough camera angles to shoot a series of Strictly Come Dancing enhance the sheer majesty of the likes of Grow Till Tall, its emphatic finale turning unnervingly apocalyptic, and Around Us, its ochre piano tones weaved with broken tales of karaoke with the star of this rather spectacular show. Go Live is a rather formidable collection of indisputable brilliance, brilliance to have you longing for his return to nearby lands as the Icelandic tourist board longs for booking confirmations in the unfortunate aftermath of natural disaster. Quite the antithesis of Eyjafjallajökull, Jónsi is, indisputably, naturally triumphant.
