Back when I was still a much younger student, I was listening to music all the time. Music was carried on my iPod, casually called Archibaldt I (instead of Guido’s iPod, which I didn’t like). Now I have Archibaldt V on my desk. Now extreme and weird music feels home, but it wasn’t always like that. So that’s where my tuesday thoughts drift of to today.
Back before Archibaldt I died in an unfortunate laundering accident, years before Archibaldt II finally stopped working properly, I was in the fortunate environment of people that dug music. I mean, really were into music that I had never heard of. I was pretty much into punkrock and that was the way to go. Punkrock was all you need, not Love. Fuck the Beatles! Well, I was already looking outward, so that was a good time.
Leaving the small town I lived in for university was a big thing, but the amount of music that hit me was even bigger. Suddenly I got to listen to Opeth and Graveworm and both terrified me at first (yes, I was late to the metals at 19). I had been listening to a lot of more accessible metal music, but these really got me reeling back for a while. I wasn’t ready for that. Luckily I had other sources, like the great record stores Sounds and Tommy (or was it Tommie?) in Tilburg. I went there with a class mate, who was more of an music afficionado than me, I think.
“Have you ever listened to Godspeed! You Black Emperor?” he asked me one day, while we took the train to the center. For some reason that moment came back to me today, while I was walking to my lecture and listening to Meshuggah. “Godspeed! You Black Emperor… that sounds dark and heavy!”, I responded. He agreed, but his dark and heavy was something completely different than mine. I thought of black metal, he probably thought of the ‘Dead Flag Blues’. So soon I learned that dark and heavy had many different forms.
Departing from Pink Floyd (thanks dad) and punkrock (through postpunk and other stuff) I found a whole world of adventurous, daring music that I had not known about. I lived in a world of pop charts and punkrock samplers, but I found a dense and rich underground. Soon I was walking around campus with, next to G!YBE, bands like Mogwai, ThrobbingGristle, CabaretVoltaire, The Residents and so much more in my headphones. All that great music, all for me to listen to!
So I’m thinking of that and of the importance of other people in your musical journey. Of discovering and exploring new musical realms, flipping records in a store or discussing tunes over coffee. I miss that… it would be nice to have some more of that.
I saw Zaum play once in an obscure basement in Tilburg. The air was choking thanks to an uncanny cigarette smell and the location was ill fitted for the band that was playing. Still, Zaum was convincing and crushing thanks to their transcendental doom sound, that just takes you to another place.
Where previous album ‘Oracles’ spoke of places like the Red Sea and Parthia, also showing a desert landscape and a foreboding city on a cliff near the sea, this one takes us further into the middle-east (though the cover made me think of Maya/Inca society). The cover is a tell tale sign with Zaum where they may take you on their hypnotic journey. The title ‘Eidolon’ refers to an apparition of a spirit like being, something you’ll find in the Djinn haunted Assyria plenty
Still, their oriental favors are clear from the title ‘Influence of the Magi’. Magi traditionally refers to Zoroastrianism, but the lyrics make clear we are now in Assyria. After an almost religious chanting, the voices shift to more unearthly sounds. Everything becomes more foreboding, even before that first, threatening riff is layed down. It takes a while for the chanting to be substituted by crushing, slowly cascading riffs and hypnotic vocals. 21 minutes both tracks last, but they are epic journeys, that make you hallucinate slightly, tripping through the mysterious past.
There’s those oriental themes in the music, also thanks to the use of a sitar. That helps with the atmosphere, which is layed down thickly on ‘The Enlightenment’. The song is, as I sort of wanted to say earlier, a transcendental experience of mysterious atmosphere and tones and a playful expression with rare bursts of guitar work. Zaum brings the listener into a trance on this majestic track. When the band really hits it off, it is monumental. Crushing drums and that typical heavy, solid experience. Though I loved their previous record, this really takes the cake. I can listen to this forever.
Black Mara is a Russian label from Novosibirsk that has been releasing great records for a while now. The genre they fit into is dark ambient and Mrako-Su is their latest production. An ambient record that takes us far from the daily life that we embrace in our modern society.
Behind Mrako-Su is an entity known as Twilight or The Twilight (translation may not be perfect). A sjamanic explorer who retreats far into the forest on ‘Путь В Белое’. Inspiration is drawn from Chinese flute music to funeral doom metal , the music is a blend of strange, dreamy sounds.
The tones that you hear on the opening track are bells in the wind, blaring drones and unearthly vocals. This is the sounds you hear in the night, when you magnify your senses and fully embrace your surroundings. It’s the mind working on full energy in the darkest part of the forest, creating a forceful experience for the listener.
But the sound can also be harrowing and rather unpleasant, like the sharp sounds on ‘Чёрная Зима’, which is like standing next to a horrible machine. There’s a lot of dissonant, eerie sounds on the record, that seems to traverse from song to song to darker realms than before. The endless repetition puts the listener in a trance that doesn’t easily subside.
All in all this record has a more grimmer approach to the sjamanistic experience. Screeching sounds, buzzing drones and an almost unearthly experience await you. This makes sense, looking at the description with the record. It’s an escapist record, mournful about the loss of human nature and thus trying to cling on to it by recording it. It’s a record that will move the listener and maybe help you look at the green world differently and with more respect.
Label:Neuropa Records/Música Máxica Band: Sangre De Muerdago Origin: Spain
When I read of the origin of this band, I had to look it up. Though I’ve heard of Gallicia, I never really knew where it was. Now, it is that strange corner of Spain north of Portugal, where legends roam. It’s a land that is green and filled with rivers, haunted by myths and legends and very ancient. No wonder that this band speaks about that.
Sangre De Muerdago is a forest folk group, as they describe it. Which means that their inspiration is nature and the little stories derived from it. The words are in Gallician, which is closer to Portuguese and the music is traditional and in its own way ancient and primitive. Primitive I would normally use for rough, unsophisticated music, but in this case I mean something different, I mean its voice, its timbre and all over harmonious, natural vibe.
Oh, and they like Motörhead. This album tells a story of a fox, which you can find out about all by yourselves. The music is a swirling collaboration of acoustic instruments, that weave together this story. It tells of old tales, the forests and hills, of men gathered around the fire or under the moon to make music (and women, obviously). The thrumming of the bodhran and the continuous flow of the hurdy-gurdy are excellend instruments to create the atmosphere of a forlorn age. Continuously pumping out sounds, while a bouzouki is played and other traditional elements come to play.
The record is a mixture of traditionals from Galicia and Bretagne. Also the work of folk band Milladoiro is used, for example the swooning ‘Agullas de Agarimo’, with its harder tones and dancable energy. Different is the fragile ‘An Dro’, which meanders through an eerie forest in the early morning, when the lush green is still moist and awakening. It’s music that takes you away from the concrete jungle, to a place more simple and easy. It may just be a small taste of the Gallician group Sangre De Muerdago, but offers a wide array of folkish enjoyment.
Label: Self released Band: Skogen Algiz Origin: Italy
The band Skogen Algiz, which is a bit shrouded in mystery, plays Alpine folk music. That is music that translates as the mountains, as grandiose peaks and deep dales with darkening trees. Of old myths and forgotten creatures. But then again, according to the bandcamp the music was made without ideals, just as an expression.
It appears taht Skogen Algiz is a one person band, which hails from the Italian part of Tirol. It would also appear that the man behind the band (mr. Formisano) is normally focused on photography, but I can tell you already that he must be rather passionate about music too.
The sound feels very small, like it’s recorded in a tiny cabin in the woods. There’s no grander notion to the music, it’s not for a big party or to dance to, but just to escape into. Gently trickling guitar play is all the listener gets and the rare chiming of bells as well, like on track number 3. The chanting has a ritual tone to it, which drags the listener (if he wants to or not) to a place of calm and contemplation.
Sometimes the music sounds much closer to the modern pop, like the guitar notes on ‘no. 6’, that remind me peculiarly enough of the xx with that laid back sonic blanket feel. It’s a warm sound, but it takes you places as well. The song ‘8’ feels much more like a trippy journey, playful and recorded in a fuzzy way to make it feel more… fuzzy I suppose?
The record feels very pure, stripped of everything that it doesn’t nee dan in a way almost ritualistic, the way the guitars gently proceed and the music just lingers in the air.
As you might have read, I’ve started expanding my tastes from metal to folk as well. In my personal quest to find something tangible and meaningful in these stranger aeons we live in, I stumble across wonderful music that hits me.
Folk that returns to nature, to ancestral groves where our forefathers and mothers would worship nature and their deities is not just a northern thing. Murmur Mori from Italy has a particular take on it and has created a beautiful album that you can read about here.
Because my words seemed to express what the band was saying, I felt I needed to learn more about Murmur Mori and their forest folk. So without further ado, here is my interview.
How are you guys doing? Can you briefly introduce yourselves?
Hello, we’re fine. Murmur Mori is our project and we are Mirko Void, musician with various projects, singer, composer, producer, working as a classical guitar teacher, and Kuro Silvia, photographer and film maker who likes to write poetry and sing, working now on a documentary on the archaeological finds in Val d’Ossola. Both are interested in our local traditions and ancient history. Together we wrote some articles for the magazine “Triple Moon”, distributed by the esoteric library “Ibis” in Bologna.
What does the name Murmur Mori mean? Why did you pick it?
Mumur Mori is a name with more than one meaning. Murmur can be a whisper or the demon associated with philosophy that has the power to let the souls answer to every question he poses to them. Mori is the japanese word for Forest or the latin word for “to die”. ?What music inspired you to pick the direction for Murmur Mori? The main inspiration comes from unexpected things, some examples: a leaf falling behind us or a book about the legends of the alps; about the music, we take it from traditional ballads and 70’s folk music. We are currently working on a new album that will come out first months of the new year and the sound will be more traditional and direct.
You’ve just released your second record, titled ‘O’. What concept or story is it you’re telling on this album?
“O” was a long research work, we visited the most of the archaeological sites of our land. Inside our work there’s the will to bring to the people a memory of our ancestors, to avoid forgetting how we used to live in tribes and with Nature. To remember how humans used to be a part of Nature, following the rhythm of seasons, esteeming and fearing Nature, we tried to find in these places the spirit and the knowledge about that way of living. We wanted to play music and sing words of ancient traditions and respect for the earth.
The record feels like such an otherworldly experience. How do you get in the right state of mind to record?
The main part of our music was composed while we were visiting ruins in Italy, places where you find stones that are arranged in the wood from the Neolithic, “O” is in fact full of field recordings from those places, this helped us to transmit the emotions that we felt while contemplating cromlechs and sacred woods.
What is your writing and recording proces like?
(Mirko) I can stay whole weeks without recording, gathering ideas in my head and once ready, in two or three days I can manage to complete songs playing step by step every instrument that I feel has to be inserted. Sometimes the alienation is so strong that I spend hours without talking, just listening the work I’m doing and looking at the instruments in the studio, as the instruments are the ones that come forward to be played. (Silvia) I start to write down pieces of lyrics while I’m in a place that makes me feel inspired and I vocalise while Mirko is playing.
How do you get your inspiration, like where do you go and what other expressions do you gather from that?
We always visit a waterfall near to our place, in Piedmont, we walk a lot of trails in the mountains. There is a sacred forest where there’s a stone inside, which was used for rites of fertility, women glided on the stone and the trace is still visible on it.
Can you tell a bit about Stramonium? What is the collective about? Stramonium is a collective about music, poetry and researches of history and folklore created by us and our friends in Bologna.
I find that there’s a deep meaning and experience to the music of Murmur Mori. Can you explain something about the places you describe in the biography. The ancient places, nature and sacred locations in the north of Italy. How can we visualise this?
We noticed a lot of ancient buildings, rocks, stones, and we felt that these places were full of history and we started to visit them more while writing songs and collecting informations about these ruins. There are a lot of archaeology proofs where we usually go by the mountains in Piedmont, they found evidences from the Lepontii which were a celtic population and the woods are rich of their presence still, dry stone structures even rooms with menhirs and cromlechs near to them. We feel very inspired by the idea of preserve the memory of these places.
Can you explain the logo you guys use? I originally thought to expect black metal when I saw it.
The logo is the seal of the demon Murmur with the japanese kanji for forest (Mori) in it. For me, your music is very close to the experience of nature.
What would you advice those that listen to your music and with to be in touch with nature more?
We are living in times where people are no longer conscious of where they are and are losing awareness of Nature, right now we need to re-learn the respect of it. Go walk in the woods or by the sea, take your time to breathe and listen, go live the woods, let your animal spirit awakes. Remove plastic and garbage on your way when you find it, it could be a small but useful action.
What other artists do you recommend people to listen to, who like your music, and why?
There’s a lot of amazing music in the world, from ancient times to our days but we suggest our friends qqq∅qqq, a music project from Venice. These guys reorganized a small lodge called “La Casetta” in the woods of Pianezze di Valdobbiadene (TV), They created a place where to play music and stay with Nature all around. Also if you enjoy our music, we made with Stramonium a compilation “Where Winter Beats Incessant” with the collaboration of some musicians we feel close to us.
What future plans do you have for Murmur Mori?
We are now finishing to record the new album and for the first time there will be the participation of outer musicians
Finally, I always ask this, if you were a dish (food), what would it be and why?
Label: Fallen Empire Records, Terratur Possessions Band: Martröð Origin: Iceland, United States, France, Italy
So, as a fan of the genre, I have to get in on Martröð. I think it’s a great record. Not phenomenal, but definitely great, if only for the way this has come together and how the result combines the strenghths of the partaking artists. But it is always tricky finding that right blend. For example, I really like baklava and fish & chips, but chucking it together might not work out as great as you think. There might be a secret combination, but finding it is hard, even more so with five artists.
So we take Wrest (Leviathan)and A.P. (Chaos Moon, Krieg) and add Thorns from Italy (Blut Aus Nord) and H.V Lyngdal (Wormlust), D.G.(Misþyrming) from Iceland. Finally MkM from France (Antaeus) takes on the vocals. The full resumé of these gentlemen I’ll leave out, it’ll take too much. The trick is how to put all of that together, over distances nonetheles, without starting to sound ‘a bit like everything’. Well, in that respect I have no answers, just that they did it wonderfully.
So what you get feels a lot like a cooking experiment, where everything is put in a big cauldron, where it starts to swirl around into a chaotic stream of dissonant noise and unholy sounds. ‘Draumleiðsla’ opens with blaring horns and a lot of strange bells, alerting the listener that something wicked this way comes. The track unfolds as a nightmarish, spiralling descent with bellowing vocals guiding you in your downward swirl. All obliterating chaos.
‘Draumleysa’ feels more static, more straight forward, instead of circular. The heavy drums suggest a marching beat, while the guitars create eery arches above on higher tones. With an enthrancing rhythm, this is one hellish track to go down with, mainly thanks to the irregular drums, that pound as hard as you could imagine. Mostly it’s just layer upon layer of intense heavy blackness and that is just awesome.
Martröð brings everything you expect on ‘Transmutation of Wounds’ and that is slightly disappointing. Such a collection of talented artists together, should not just do what is expected, but create something overwhelming. If this project continuous to record, I’m absolutely certain that this will be what it’ll do, the parts fit nicely together we now know, so let’s see how far it can go.
To me it matters where I come from, it matters where I feel at home and I feel a connection to certain traditions and religious tendencies. I’m happily embracing the harmonious ideas of heritage, This is something that is very persistently present as well in extreme metal music. The connection has provided us with endless political discussions, but does that make as much sense as we think?
Though there is the rare band that embraces national socialism, racism and nationalism at large, it’s a very rare occurence. Most bands say they are anti-political and not without reason. Extreme metal has one characteristic that defines it.
Individualism: Defining the self
Extreme metal has often been about the individual. This is probably why NSBM is such a weird mix of two world views. Metal is against the herd and for the self, but that leaves the void of identity for a person. We, as human beings, like to define ourselves as something, we are always looking for a sense of belonging and reason to be. Even black metal warriors delve into identity and spirituality on all sorts of levels.
Connecting to something like our heritage, traditions and maybe nationality is a logical thing to us. Sure, we can still accept that we are all one people, but we’re defined by where we are from. Does that make me a Germanic pagan? Not necessarily, but it might just as well. Bands like Skyforger, Winterfylleth and Moonsorrow had a hard time getting the difference across. Self-identification is an individual proces, which sometimes works as a concept and identity for a band, but that doesn’t make it the herd behavior of institutionalized nationalism or racism. It’s about defining the self, not the other.
The Other: Defining the opposition
The other side of the medal is when identification of the self is done in order to define the other. The other is, for some reason or purpose, the opposed of what the self should be. This is a lot harder to do in a way, so much easier to do by defining the other first. Now, here we come into the terrain of professional hate mongering. Defining the other with unwanted characteristics is very effective, because it defines both sides. This completely binds the relation to the other in an absolute relation of the lesser and the better. There is no need to approach the other anymore, because the other is evil, wrong, lesser and the enemy.
When we’ve defined the other, we usually end up with a stereotype, with a group we’ve vilified. This puts us in a group too and sadly we soon will find likeminded individuals. The hate is concrete enough to fuel itself, but high-over enough to define all others. Though metal has the tribe mentality to form a cohesive group, it just isn’t in the nature of the culture to find such unity. Individualism is part of that identity and so is discussion and interaction. This sort of defining just doesn’t work in that environment.
Open hearts, open minds
It’s perfectly possible to have an identity bound up with the local, the past and belief, but be open and tolerant to others. Interaction between cultures is what shapes them, but if you define your opposed identity you’ll never know this beautiful variation. I talked to a Latvian metal singer once who said: “It’s ok to be proud of your country, your tribe or your belief, but if you feel superior to others you missed the plot.” Superior thoughts lead to isolation, which creates a fearful protection of what is yours. Of vague ideas of tradition and identity that don’t really matter at all. Imagine a culture on its own. How does it get any value if it’s not challenged by different ones?
I see this constantly in the metal world. People are embracing their own culture and past, but also interacting with others. Clearly showing that, a while ago a compilation album came out titled”One and All, Together, for Home” on Seasons Of Mist. Why would all these bands work together if they were the kind of nationalists depicted in the media? If they had superiority motives, why would they ever join on a record? It’s that sort of love for land, folk and belief that creates. It connects and enriches itself and the other.
If you open yourself up to the other, to culture of others, your identity and culture will change. We learn through interaction about the other culture. We adapt, we reform, we change. Change is scary, but not bad. This sort of change we are all too familiar with. We call it growth.
If we allow growth to happen, maybe we can even get some sort of enlightenment one day.
Yes, it’s named after me! No, just kidding. Furia recorded this EP around 320 meters in debt, underground, in its entirety in a mine named ‘Guido’, hence the name of the record. Furia is a mysterious band with little information available, who literelly went underground to make music on this record.
Furia is part of a small Polish collective of artists, named ‘Let The World Burn’. Other bands like Massemord, FDS and Cssabia seem to be attached to it, but it’s never really clear what happens behind closed doors so to say with these collectives. This project is known to be the inventors of ‘nekrofolk’, which is a vague term until you listen to the music they make, It’ll all make sense then.
In a way the record is divided in two parts, one contains the songs ‘1’ and ‘2’, and is called ‘Stara Polska księżycowa’, which I think translates to ‘Old Polish Moon’. Stomping folk music with a cold, morbid sound is indeed a fitting description for the sound of Furia, but the atmosphere and spoken elements betray much more on the second track. Slow but full of purpose the tracks progress with rhythms you wouldn’t expect and sing-a-long elements even. It would almost be jolly.
‘Ubrdy część pierwsza’ is the title of part two, but I haven’t been able to translate it properly. But the strange opening of ‘320 w 2’ is already telling for the atmosphere, because it’s like going down the elevator shaft into the debts. Probably that is actually what we are hearing. It’s a short intermezzo, before ‘Hahary’ takes it’s time to build up, slowly and in a way that makes you wonder where this is all going. A groaning voice murmurs over the minimal music, which is almost a bit jazzy. It then starts building up, with a reverb to create a sonic tunnel effect. I guess you could call it kraut rock almost, there’s little growth, just repetition.
‘Łączka’is even stranger, and reminds me most of Tunng’s folktronica. A lumpy rhythm with those softly spoken words in a deep voice for a good couple of minutes, before the song swells with screaming guitars, but the rhythm never fades. It’s a foreboding trodding track, with little black metal traces remaining. You could indeed call them progressive in their interesting play with the sound. Closing track is ‘Lew Albinos’, which has some ripping guitar tones to take it away. I reminds me a bit of that slow paced Urfaust sound, but without the maddening shrieks. It feels like the slow procession of the miners through the tunnels, grim, bleak and dark with nothing but darkness awaiting.
Furia delivers excellence on this record, which was recorded live. Check it out, you won’t regret it.
In the wide fields of Lithuania an ancient people once lived, who were known by many tribe names. The Yotvingians, Aukstaitians, Skalvians, Curonians and the warrior tribe of the Samogitians dwelt in these ancient lands. Being the last part of Europe to be Christened in 1413 finally, by their Grand Duke Vytautas, the nation has a devout dedication to Christianity, but somehow it’s never fully Christian.
For centuries Lithuanians have gone to the forests, building their crosses and little altars in semblance of the Christian figures. Still the altars and holy places remained and recently the old ways have reemerged in a way that is surprisingly big and up to date. Perhaps the pillars of the ancient tradition are just so clear that it isn’t hard to bring them to this day and age. Music is a huge part of that and Ugniavijas brings that to life in a way that feels authentic and sort of hauntingly fitting.
Though they claim to sing war songs, as shown by their previous record ‘Karo Dainos’ (War Songs), they don’t sound brutal or so, but like beautiful harmonies of male vocal singing. ‘Ten, kur krisim’ (Where we will fall) is a captivating journey through the ages. The uncanny tone and unusual timbre keeps you listening to songs like ‘Kai aš jojau ant vainos’, where the language itself determines the sound. The chanting is flat, tribal and focussed on the rhythm.
Boisterous singing is th emain part, but traditional instruements fill up the sound to a complete experience. Bagpipes and the well known kanklės are very present, but also more of those hypnotic instruments like the lumzdelis. It oozes into a mystical experience of bold men braving the field of battle against those that try to take what is dearest to them. Home, hearth and gods.
Though the words are difficult to understand, this is the sort of music that is typical for the old Balts. Emotional, full of vigor and with a sense of fatality. None lives forever, but the harmonie of life, the bravery, it makes sacrifices a noble thing and that is what you can find in the music.
