múm

The sixth studio album from Icelandic band múm, “Smilewound,” is a mumbleroar of beautiful, lofty uncertainty, and it deserves a second listen if you don’t enjoy it the first time around.

With the return of founding member Gyða Valtýsdóttir, there are whispers of nostalgia from their early days, but only whispers.

Yes, the tinkering Sega-sounds remain, but again, the group delivers another refreshing album that is difficult to define, continuing to separate themselves from the guys on the other side of the coin, Sigur Rós. While at times I found myself waiting for the “drop” to happen, which left me irritable and displaced during my first listen, nearly every song is full of wonder when listened to it with patient ears.

The stage of the album is set with more vocals than previously heard in their repertoire. You’ll notice a severe lack of male vocals now that Gyða has returned, but this might be for the better. The ghostly repeating lines on “Slow Down,” “Slow down so I can catch you / I’m in love with you,” are a shining moment, in good company with dance-track “When Girls Collide” and quick lullaby “The Colorful Stabwound.”

However, “Sweet Impressions” is the star of this show. Musically, the album’s ever-present strings are spiced by fast drumming and an infectious piano, and lyrically, the cool crooning of “If you took the time to look at all the signs, you could rest your head just knowing that all is fine” simply melts like a perfect music-butter.

Tripping over the clunky “Candlestick” at the center of the album is annoying, but worth the deliverance múm offers in the latter half. Think of it as an intermission on an otherwise beautiful addition to their discography.