INTERVIEW: Nibelung

When submerged within soundscapes one often hears ghosts. Undefined snippets of audio that briefly enter and leave the room, making us wonder if we’ve actually heard or merely imagined them. These sounds send a shiver through the ether; leaving us puzzled, unnerved, and perhaps even less alone. To me, Nibelung embraces this given fully. Not only musically on its latest effort Faces In The Mountain but also visually, as I’ve been staring at it’s artwork for longer than I’d like to admit.

You put that very well. It's best to listen alone. It takes some time, but when you are alone, the visitors are more likely to come. You may be able to hear the wind and the trees speak, and it begins to matter less if what we see is really there. If you have heard shivers and ghosts, I have accomplished what I set out to do.

I am glad to hear the artwork merited some gazing. It's quite dark, but there is something dim lurking in the corner. The piece is taken from a much larger painting, one that has been with me since I was very young. It haunted me some while I was composing these tapes, and I felt it fitting to the story they told. Perhaps if someone cares to look long enough, they will understand why.

What intrigues me is how Faces In The Mountain demands me to continuously switch between active and passive listening. At one moment in time I am heavily focused on tiny details, while minutes later I have completely zoned out, only to eventually be submerged again. This of course has a lot to do with the length of the record (which clocks in at nearly 95 minutes) but also with its various compositions in which sounds gradually come, morph and disappear. To me, the record feels more like an influential companion during a broad variety of activities rather than a demanding piece of art. Does this resonate with you as its creator?

It was made to be in the background. I think it is more useful as a meditation aid than anything else. But maybe not meditation in the traditional sense of sitting in one place, thinking about nothing at all. Walking around in the woods or in the mountains is better, especially at nighttime. Letting the trees and the peaks loom over you and feeling the cold wind move around. You begin to feel awfully small out there. And it is best to let your feet show you where to walk. The music itself might lead you down certain paths. These tapes tell of someone doing the very same. And if you end up seeing things out there, then you will have tales of your own to tell.

I like this idea of music as an extension, rather than a phenomenon on its own. I hope you do not mind this rather personal question but in what ways does Nibelung extend your world as its creator? How is it intertwined with your daily life, goals and ambitions?

The music is a very ritualistic thing for me. I don't touch it often, and I feel it is best not to. It is more like a relic or an ornament you take out on a particular occasion. Perhaps the season is proper, or perhaps you find yourself in a certain rare mood. This way it stays sacred and special, and it can last you for many years.

NIBELUNG is a work I am proud of, but it is also a work anyone could produce. I created it because it was what I wished to hear. If you find my music, or any other music, does not resonate with you or facilitate your wanderings it is best to make your own.

Stench Ov Death Prod., 2018

I can imagine that, as a listener, part of what you want to hear - or experience - is unclear when diving into any type of music. Is this also the case when you’re writing for Nibelung, or does it come from a more singular vision? In other words: do you know what you want to hear before you start working on Nibelung, or does it become clear during the process, or even afterwards?

The works on the Old Tales album, it being the first offering, were more freeform. I made that album around Christmastime one year. I was very depressed and just walking around in the snow a lot. I simply wanted to channel the feeling of those times into dungeon synth. Those were a few of the first pieces of music I ever made. Some of them were my attempt at making "traditional" medieval ambient, and some were harsh and abrasive, reminding me of raw/avant-DS artists that influenced me at the time.

My intentions for Faces In The Mountain were clearer. I wanted to release a record long enough to facilitate a journey, long enough to merit a second tape. And it had to sound more cohesive. I wanted everything to have that quiet, wintry feeling to fit with the "season" of the release. There are still improvised bits but it was all more planned than before.

But overall, and generally, let me say this... it is fine to approach composition with intention. But it is more important to let a song breathe and find its own way. The best art is not created but channeled from somewhere else. If it tries to go in a different direction than you planned, who are you to say it should not... your intentions will still be there tomorrow but this particular vibration will not…

That last sentence is both hear-warming and chilling. How does it relate to Nibelung’s current state? Are you embracing a particular vibration as we speak, is there a strong intention when it comes to future material, or is there a dominant silence - completely in line with our autumnal season?

I have not composed anything for NIBELUNG in a very long while. But long before I began Faces In The Mountain I went into the forest near my house and recorded an EP album called The Lonely Wood there. It has never been released. I am planning something atypical for the physical version, and it is taking some time to complete. Hopefully it will be finished by the spring. After that I have plans for one more NIBELUNG album, and that may be the last you hear of me. Time will tell.

Nibelung on Bandcamp

INTERVIEW: So Called Hell

So Called Hell feels like one of the more seclusive labels out there. Having only a Bandcamp page, featuring three stellar releases, the label seems to keep itself distanced from the loud and bombastic characteristics of social media. We see something similar when it comes to its released acts. While the quality of Silent Cabin, Hasufel, and Uilos echo far and wide, the artists themselves do provide music that feels the utmost personal and intimate.

Dear Britt, thank you for your time! So far, I’ve been very charmed by your efforts when it comes to curation. Am I mistaken if I’d say there’s an overlap in atmosphere when it comes to your current roster? All three releases very much have their own personality and charm but to me fit perfectly together.

No mistake at all. The dungeon music sphere is obviously sprawling and subjectively defined but there's a wavelength within it I'm most drawn to: murky, mysterious, melancholy, and malevolent. Silent Cabin, Uilos, and Hasufel all share these qualities in different ways, channeling a sense of ritual, smoke, and descent.

Ah, the unholy four M’s of Dungeon Synth! What is it that really draws you towards these qualities? And what makes it that you find them within this specific genre?

My listening habits over the years have evolved / devolved to where I’m most fascinated by music for its mood and quasi-mystical effects, like sinking into certain drugs or meditative states. Dungeon Synth can be deeply transportive in this respect, conjuring ancient sorrows or supernatural darknesses far beyond the lives most of us lead. But it’s about more than fantasy; it's closer to some sort of divination. World-building realms we recognize but have never visited.

Remedios Varo, Creation of the Birds, Leonara Carrington, 1957

Can this divination be seen as some sort of mission statement from So Called Hell? And if so, would this explain the label’s withdrawal on social media, as the character of those platforms do not really match with your description of Dungeon Synth?

I tend to not think in terms of blanket statements but the subterranean gist of SCH is definitely some notion of music's shadowy, primeval qualities, uncorrupted by commerce, scenes, or hype. Social media isn't evil necessarily but it's certainly numbing in its omnipresence. Even the greatest creations feel more mundane in the light of some tech empire's marketing / spy network. And Dungeon Synth is even more out of place in such a context, since its origins and aesthetics are so fundamentally archaic, occult, and isolationist.

I would say that the way how the isolated character of SHC matches its releases, strengthens the appeal of the label. As a listener I gravitate to the genre because of its otherworldly and adventurous qualities, which feel slightly dented when served within the mundane grid of social media. Which makes me wonder: how does SHC find its roster? Is it as basic as tracking quality down through online platforms, or are there other factors at play?

Since DS tends to operate remotely, even anonymously, it's less common to meet artists socially, although both Hasufel and Uilos are old friends who I've known through various projects for years. Usually it's about hearing a recording online somewhere and just reaching out. As a newer label it's normal to not always get a response but most musicians also don't mind receiving a random compliment, and you never know what will lead to what. The process of finding strangers willing to trust you is basically the main challenge of every label. But what's far more important is distilling your curatorial desires so as to expand the ecosystem, not chase the same names as everyone else.

Labyrinth, Leonara Carrington, 1991

While the journey has brought forth three stellar releases already, I can’t help but wonder what might be in store for us in the future. Are you already scouting ahead?

Eternally. Digging in the trenches I come across eerie gems frequently and float fan message into the ether when inspired. That said, it's a fairly impersonal method and understandably some artists dismiss the unknown as internet white noise – which to some degree it is. Genuine connections are more complex than that; underground culture isn't transactional. Profound music can't be rushed and the best labels aren't brands. There're plenty of projects and collaborations I'd love to one day materialize but they either will or won't depending on chance and circumstance. What I want most though is for Dungeon Synth not to sink into predictability, or become a tired trend, burned out by repetition and imitation. Its template is infinite and every forking path of the cosmic dungeon should be pursued.

I’m glad to say that those words resonate heavily, as to me, real adventure always depends on the unknown. We see that since the genre’s revival, many artists have continuously morphed the genre into a broad variety of shapes; whether it is through radical re-contextualization, or by subtle twists and turns as one can find in Uilos’ I: Dark Night Of The Soul.
Having said that, I hope others will undergo their own adventures alongside and within the works within your roster. If there’s anything you’d like to tell them beforehand, what would it be?

Listening is active not passive. The road most traveled is the one most scoured. Stray off the path often and at length.

So Called Hell on Bandcamp

Hasufel - Lamentations Of The Foul High Priest

So Called Hell, 2020

“This is no routine.
This is a ritual.”

Never had I thought about the threatening character of a flute before. Throughout my adventures in Dungeon Synth, it has dominantly positioned itself as a gentle entity; mysterious but kind. Thankfully, Hasufel shows us a much more vile and direct interpretation of the instrument. One that has more in common with a soaring whip, than it does with a summer breeze.

The statement above underlines the active character that is found within Lamentations Of The Foul High Priest. The record does not stand still. It does not approach atmosphere in its conventional sense. Rather, it actively impels a feeling of urgency. Where others use the term ‘ritual’ or ‘evocation’ as a signifier that they are of the same crowd as their contemporaries, Hasufel takes these terms and turns them into an actual experience. One that is focussed, and takes over the room as the main point of interest. In other words: Hasufel’s debut does not evoke another world, it evokes the act of evocation.

It is precisely this lack of a means to an end that makes Lamentations Of The Foul High Priest such an interesting release, as it is in sharp contrast to the dominant idea that Dungeon Synth is a vehicle to explore whatever is out there, or within oneself. In a way, its dynamic character urges the listener to experience what is going on; giving no time to drift off, as there is nothing to drift off to.

TL;DR: A vile yet intriguing interpretation of what Dungeon Synth can be, advocating an active attitude against a more passive one.

Hasufel on Bandcamp

Voormithadreth - The Quest of Iranon

Self-released, 2017

“Iranon told nothing useful,
singing only his memories,
his dreams, and his hopes”

There is a time and a place for what we know. That time is not now. That place is not here. Unlike many of its contemporaries, Voormithadreth emerges from the horror drenched musings of Smith, Dunsany, and Lovecraft; not merely to mesmerize but to slowly nest itself within.

While the works of Adam Kalmbach have been no stranger to this household, Voormithadreth has always managed to stay out of my line of sight. And even now, after repeatedly listening to The Quest of Iranon, I can’t say that I’ve become familiar with its laden soundscapes. Shredded imagery of grey dust does come to mind; unstable and transformative. Like a colour out of space, it shifts between the familiar and unknown, craftily avoiding the uncanny. Instead, despite its dark undertones, it continuously welcomes me. I now know what I have been looking for - and how to find it, as quicksand slowly beacons.

I press repeat.

TL;DR: It’s 04:36. All is pretty. My neighbours flee their home and leave the area.

Voormithadreth on Bandcamp

Uilos - I: Dark Night Of The Soul

So Called Hell, 2020

"How fair are the bright eyes in the grass! 

Evermind they are called, simbelmynë in this land of Men, 

for they blossom in all the seasons of the year, and grow where dead men rest."

After releasing Silent Cabin’s Gently Veiled back in August 2019, So Called Hell retreated back into the shadows to prepare the release of Uilos’ I: Dark Night Of The Soul. While still young, the label shows it’s capable of a precise and qualitative curation, as there is no doubt that Uilos’ debut successfully aimed for the stars.

It is heartwarming for a new name to already be this adventurous and mature in its musical abilities. While never losing a dark and mysterious character, Uilos dances through a broad spectrum of nightly vista’s, ranging from the hopeful shimmerings of early dawn to the brooding clenches of a pitch-dark night sky. The fast amount of instruments never emerge at the same time but are carefully placed throughout the album, giving them the ability to surprise both first and long-time listeners. One example of this would be how, occasionally, an electric guitar gently cuts through Uilos’ synthscapes, grasping one’s attention, only to be swallowed back in by layers of newly emerging instruments. Like the ocean, Dark Night Of The Soul can be both gentle and overwhelming, as it grants the listener an environment in which it can either float or drown.

Uilos

Uilos builds upon its stellar music through a production that is both conveniently familiar and refreshingly experimental. Its creative use of panning makes the album creep and drift through your room; never remaining in its originating spot, making it feel organic, pulsating, and thus very much alive. By combining sonic textures that remind me of 1970’s Berlin School with contemporary Dungeon Synth-esque melodies, Uilos balances between the old and the new. The result can be described as a stew of Tangerine Dream and Old Sorcery, with a slight hint of Boards of Canada; and man, does it taste wonderful.

TL;DR: A strong contender to become one of this year's most astounding Dungeon Synth efforts.

Uilos on Bandcamp

Runecaster - The Sleeping Sword

Cosmic Ocean, 2020

"It all began aeons ago, 

when man's ancestors picked up a shard of a strange red rock. Its power, which was beyond human comprehension, cultivated dreams."

I know that to many, Dungeon Synth and old-school video game soundtracks go hand in hand. Maybe it’s because both have their roots within the ’90s. Maybe it’s because they share a similar form of escapism. Maybe it’s because of the aesthetic similarities between cassettes and cartridges. All I know is that while sort of seeing an overlap, I never really felt it. That is until Runecaster came along.

Being released in late January by the British DIY label Cosmic Ocean, The Sleeping Sword takes us to the Scarlet Kingdom, across the bleak Dyrne Pass. Its atmosphere is reminiscent of classic video game titles like Chrono Trigger and early Dragon Quest, as there is a sense of adventure, mingled with comfort and wonder. Do not mistake this for chiptune though, as it craftily mixes sounds from that era with the broody undertone that we know from early Dungeon Synth. Step by step, Runecaster takes us through its lore-filled landscapes to uncover secrets that, to some, should have been kept alone.

I’m charmed by how Runecaster managed to capture a sound that balances between being very familiar yet simultaneously refreshingly unique. All twelve songs on The Sleeping Sword vividly bring forth their own setting and feel as if they’re designed to be looped for as long as a player would have needed to progress throughout their surroundings. The occasional recordings of a closing door, rain sprinkling on a rooftop, or sounds that remind me of making a selection within a user-interface, seal the deal when it comes to immersion and story-telling.

A re-release has surfaced this month by Ancient Meadows, featuring a silk-screened patch, two badges/pins, and a hand-crafted bottle of broadleaf plantain salve to cure your wounds from adventuring. 

If this does not prepare you for adventure, nothing will.

TL;DR: Dungeon Synth for adventurers that look back fondly at the pixelated tales from the past.

Runecaster on Bandcamp

INTERVIEW: Archana

Rites, 2020

When I think of Archana, I think of the embracing and overwhelming effect of green and golden panorama’s after one crawls outside of a dark and dim-lit dungeon. Its minimalist yet spacious and melodic use of atmosphere speaks to me in a way that’s very different from its contemporaries. In order to find out more about the depth of Archana’s musical landscapes, I sad down with its originator E. to discuss his latest release, Dungeon Synth, and ecology.

First off, congratulations on your latest record Rites. Your Bandcamp page describes the record as a journey through which the listener discovers new lands, drenched with memories of old battles and ancient legends. Everything about Archana seems to be so very landscape-driven, which makes me wonder about the way you approach your world-building. What - for you as a maker - needs to be conjured throughout the music?

Hey, thanks a lot, it's been a fairly huge honour releasing this music lately. Archana happened after a lot of years of meditation and research. I used to hike any time I had the chance. Something about the lack of societal expectation in the wilderness helped me envision progressive song-writing more clearly and prompted me to include that kind of isolation in most of the art I've created. Man vs. Nature is such a primordial form of storytelling. It seems unbeatable at times, other times we're able to endure by simply looking into ourselves and believing in the victory.

It’s interesting that you speak of man as separate from nature, with nature being something to be overcome or - at least - survive. To me, this always causes interesting friction with other popular stories about the symbiosis of man and nature, in which humanity is intertwined in a bigger ecosystem. Is this friction part of your storytelling as well? How do man and nature relate to the sound and world of Archana?

That's a really great question. Inclimate weather helps make a cool, multi-faceted story, in my opinion. I live in "Tornado Alley" here in the U.S. and just about once or twice a year I'll drive around and see a neighborhood that's been completely leveled. It's stuck with me a long time; I feel for catastrophe victims around the world.

We're definitely a part of the greater ecosystem, though many homo sapiens would claim we are above it. The magi in my lore harness the torrential elements to conduct powerful spells. These are obviously tall tales, but I can't help but see a correlation to the modern-day gain-of-function research. We can think we are above it, but I feel like we're totally subject to it. What's above 10 on the Richter scale, you know?

As a side note: a friend of mine and I were recently talking about Antarctica; that it's illegal to go there and how we're discovering ancient tropical vegetation there from the last global warming. He shared with me that he's more concerned with the ancient bacteria we're excavating there than with any alleged man-made or genetically-engineered virus we could currently concoct in a lab. Makes a lot of sense now why Jurassic Park spoke so deeply to our subconscious back in 1994-1995. Haha.

Wooded landscape with a lake, George Barrett, Unknown date 

Haha, “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn't stop to think if they should.” I’m fascinated by the way you use this concept of magi using torrential elements. It’s a great way of telling stories about pushing boundaries to reach greater ideals - and its potentially catastrophic consequences. What strikes me, is that its adventurous character feels slightly in contrast with Rites’ music, which is so very calm and soothing. Where in your overall story is the album positioned? Is this the calm before the storm, or its aftermath?

The Rites series focuses predominantly on the political struggles and repercussions of the lore, this release has both the calm and the aftermath. "Partisans Divide" is a good example. The first three-quarters of the song is building ambient layers, kind of like a coup or militia forged slowly. It takes time, sometimes longer than the actual conflict itself. That kind of thing is situational, but the song is meant to portray a building unrest over time, which eventually snaps at some point, resulting in a very different-- often war-like-- struggle. The ending section has a bit of an essence of rebellion and turmoil, but it is largely invigorating in spirit.

Invigorating might just be the word to describe Rites as a whole, as it contains a sound that I find to be rather unique within Dungeon Synth, without it moving away from the atmospherical redline that makes up the genre. What invigorates you when it comes to Dungeon Synth, as a fan, listener, and musician?

Man, there's so much great Dungeon Synth out there. I spin a lot of stuff with rich atmosphere and vision, but the records don't have to make any substantial unique statements, I'm a huge fan of neo-medieval. Realms of Oblivion by Torchlight is 10/10 from me. All three releases from Ulk (Netherlands) are so well-done, very relaxing. ASKII (Germany) Hegelburg and Hegelburg at Dusk have recently garnered about 500 spins from me, they're perfect for writing and study. Strange Divinity by Cowl (British Columbia) is really far out, solid first release. I'm totally enthralled with the current state of Dungeon Synth, I find a lot of good energy and excitement in what I've heard the past five or six years.

The Upper Nepean, William Piguenit, 1889

Rumor has it though that, as a musician, you also participate outside of the realms of Dungeon Synth. Would you like to tell us a bit more about some of your other projects?

Yeah, I'd love to. Abhasa saw its first release last year, atmospheric black metal with a Sanskrit aura. It's fairly crushing at times, but still easy on the ears. Co-founder J.E. (Alloch Nathir) and I do all writing and most of the instrumentation. We have an esoteric metal record in post-production we're really excited about under the project name Forlorn Aspect, rough ETA late 2020.

Brian Fullenkamp does all of our session drumming. He and I have also performed as Architecture Aviva since 2010, a heavy psych power-trio with bassist Nick Carpenter. We're hoping to take our live show internationally as soon as it's feasible.

Is your work with Archana some sort of counter-weight to your other, more abrasive musical outputs? Or can it be seen as an extension of what you’re already doing?

Archana is very contrasting to most of the music I've released. I started out composing Math-Rock, crazy time signatures with other warm layers, a generally organized chaos. Found cool acts like Pele from Wisconsin (surf element), Volta Do Mar from Chicago, and Do Make Say Think from Canada. These acts kind of shaped our perceptions on Psych and Post, and the further we looked and the more we studied, it all ended up at metal. The more etheric and surreal elements I wanted in the music, the more it became Black Metal and World / Traditional.

Because of its often brooding nature and subject matter, Dungeon Synth seems more metal to me than some of the heavier music. It's also very cinematic and epic at times, so much aesthetic. When I finally set out to compose for Archana, I quickly found that the basic scoring technique wasn't easy. I'm super stoked to explore even larger-scale projects in the genre.

Does your excitement for future plans include Archana? What can we expect from the project, both in the near future as potentially in the long run?

Since teaming up with Mystic Timbre, we've really been able to solidify a lot of ideas I may have previously thought out of reach, so it's safe to say Archana has plans ahead in multiple spheres and in ranging scope. A lore-based release is being prepared for late this year or early next. Those records will be signified by a golden dragon logo or by a similarly specialized logo. Thanks again for having me, and thanks to the listeners.

Archana on Bandcamp

INTERVIEW: Mystic Timbre

With its first release being Seikai’s To Sanzuwu on the 19th of April last year and it’s 40th release being Archana’s Rites - which is expected to surface on the 23rd of June - it’s safe to say Mystic Timbre is a rather productive label. Ranging from cosmic ambient to modern takes on Dungeon Synth, its main focus seems to be the distribution of strongly atmospheric projects. Over the course of a few days, I communicated back and forth with the label’s driving-force Anthony to discuss Mystic Timbre’s ambitions, future visions and love for all that’s mesmerizing.

It would be an understatement to say that there is a lot to discover within your roster. Could you describe the label for those who are yet unfamiliar with what Mystic Timbre is and does?

Distributor of strongly atmospheric projects is a great start, though that maybe leaves out our punk and yacht rock releases, haha. I had been planning the label for a couple of years before it launched, so I was able to save up the money to produce our first 21 tapes all at once, which were comprised of mostly older material created throughout the decade, with a few newer albums like How the Garden Grows at the tail end. That got us off to a fast start in 2019; for 2020, I endeavored to release 2 albums every 3 weeks for the entire year - as it stands, we've already got enough releases ready/near completion to fulfill that pace. Ceaseless and varied productivity is, I hope, the defining attribute of Mystic Timbre.

The breadth and diversity of sounds and styles represented on the label are simply reflective of my own interests, which are about as expansive as can be. I was a pretty strictly metalhead kid, and got really into folk/viking metal when I was 14/15. It was always the atmosphere of that music that intrigued me: the epic, fantasy keyboards. The fact that Dungeon Synth now makes up one of the larger genre-specific slices of the Mystic Timbre pie is therefore not surprising. Ulver's Bergtatt was a favorite, and it may be simplifying and a little cheesy, and probably not exactly 100% accurate, but my own tastes and ideas about what 'atmosphere' in music could be opened up as I delved into the Norwegian duo's electronic releases, specifically Perdition City. Back in 2005 it was actually a relatively new album still; crazy to think it's celebrating its 20th anniversary this year. Atmosphere didn't have to be lofty, epic keyboards - it was in all effective and profound music. There are so many places beyond Valhalla and pre-Christian Europe that music can transport us, haha.

I focus on the ability to transport, and not the destination. All destinations are valid, so long as the music is an effective vehicle to get there.

The temptation to hyperfocus on a specific genre or sound is always there - it would make promotion much easier, and would make it easier to attract followers of that particular style. Ultimately, I can never bring myself to shut the door on a style I might want to indulge in the future. Doing so would, for me, be disingenuous; to focus on a single sound would be a business decision, not a creative one. I'll just have to work that much harder and be that much more productive for the label to be successful.

Żywopłoty, Jacek Yerka, 2004

With Ulver’s Perdition City being one of my all-time favorite albums, this interview is already off to a good start. When you reflect on possible destinations for your musical outlets to transport the listener to, which ones have not been reached yet but would be very fitting within Mystic Timbre’s discography?

The goal is for there to be no destination that doesn't fit into the Mystic Timbre discography. More than any specific answer to the question, I would just like for Mystic Timbre releases to continue finding unique means of transportation, and destinations that are just a little bit off the well-worn path.

I just finished designing and editing the first issue of Salient Zine, a regular promotional e-zine we're going to be releasing that features selections of label releases, a mix curated from those releases, and download codes for those featured albums. The first issue was loosely themed on the concept of 'outer space'. What I find compelling is that, despite all the releases featured in that issue having something to do with 'outer space,' none of them are just static meditations on the cosmos. They all have concepts which involve outer space, but focus on more unique and intriguing aspects. I won't name any names, but there are countless ambient, space ambient, and progressive electronic artists who use 'outer space' as the founding concept for their works, and then go no further with it than that. In their discographies, you will find album after album about nebulae and black holes, with cosmic NASA photography artwork showing the aforementioned phenomena; but that's it - there is no story, no interesting way of presenting these concepts. That music will transport you to space, certainly; but good luck finding anything to do when you get there.

The first track on the Space Is the Place Salient Zine mix is Phantoms vs Fire's The Botanist, from the Superbloom II album released last month. Superbloom II is a concept album that reimagines the Yucca desert in southwest America as a lush, alien landscape, with a narrative arc that climaxes with the titular botanist character merging with the cosmic energy of this exotic landscape. The Wyndham Research Institute's Interim Report no. 57: Io Transmitter Sub-Committee uses dark ambient and experimental field recordings to create an album that relays, in the form of found audio logs, the catastrophic systems failures of a space shuttle terminus station orbiting Jupiter's moon, Io. Seikai's first album, To Sanzuwu, charts the odyssey of a satellite launched from Earth toward the center of the sun in an attempt to gather and transmit as much information as possible before burning away in the intense heat. Seikai's follow-ups find even more novel ways to celebrate the sun's power and majesty. The second album, 17 September 1770, uses natural field recordings and new age ambient to chronicle the titular date, when an enormous geomagnetic storm caused deep red aurorae to appear over the Pacific Ocean, visible and detailed in contemporary accounts all the way from northern China and Japan to the western Australian coast, where crewmembers aboard Captain Cook's Endeavour observed the phenomenon. The third album, III: Sunrise & Sunset, follows the course of the sun across a Japanese New Year's Day, beginning with its first rays of light in a kite-filled sky, through the first sunrise of the new year, hatsuhinode, and on through the sunset and into the first dream of the new year, hatsuyume.

For me, these are far more interesting ways of engaging with the concept of space and the celestial bodies that exist beyond our planet. These albums don't simply show you the destination - space, or Io, or the sun - and then soundtrack that location. Instead, these albums tell stories that either take place in space or heavily involve the use of celestial bodies in space, and then soundtrack those stories. They take the listener to the destination, instead of dropping them into it. Both methods can be equally transportive; however, I find the former to be more engaging, more human.

More than any specific destinations that I want Mystic Timbre releases to take listeners, my focus is on ensuring the journey is a unique and engaging one. Personally, I am excited to see what stories and journeys our artists will create in the future, and where they will take us - and it's a testament to our artists' creativity that those stories and journeys will be surprises to me when they appear in my inbox for the first time.

Timechild, Jesse Treece, 2014

To give a carte blanche to all possible interpretative destinations feels refreshing and rather daring. With the label strongly distinguishes between merely being somewhere and truly being emerged in an environment, I wonder how you’d describe the surroundings and events that are build by your two latest releases, being Archana’s Rites and Alloch Nathir’s The Emerald Grotto.

Those two are great examples of what we're talking about, actually. Both Archana and Alloch Nathir are heavily focused on worldbuilding and escapism, though each goes about them in their own way.

Alloch Nathir focuses on conjuring a specific place - in this case, the eponymous Emerald Grotto. But The Emerald Grotto, as an album, isn't just one of those "2 hours of woodland swamp ambience" videos with a static picture on youtube - it's an aural journey through the namesake grotto, with stops at various locations and mysterious encounters along the way. The music, while always remaining generally under the 'Dungeon Synth' umbrella, shifts shape to match the narrative passage, touching upon many of the various styles and subgenres of DS. The first 3 tracks are idyllic forest synth, a calming, tranquil beginning to the journey. The midway point of the album switches to a more traditional dungeon synth sound, dark keyboard woodwinds and tambourine percussion, signaling a turn down a darker path of the woods, and an encounter with some of its witchier denizens. The B Side sees the timbre change again to the moody twinkle of classic ambient music, as danger has passed and deep, ethereal mysteries are revealed. The fun of this style of storytelling, by giving the listener the location and the journey, but not the plot details, is that that plot can be left to interpretation and creativity: The Emerald Grotto could just as easily be the setting and conceptual thrust for a fantasy D&D campaign as it could a Victorian horror story or a modern, Goonies-style atmospheric adventure.

Archana's albums are more about the writing of a general world lore, rather than a focus on any one environment within that world (though individual tracks can serve as an aural representation of a specific location - I'm thinking of The Hyetal Shore from Archana's Tales B Side). Archana's music, so misty and drenched in atmosphere, is like the specters of ancient battles, each track a ghostly visage of some fight or struggle from centuries past. These conflicts were of such dire importance their marks were left on this mythic land like scars, and the souls of those who perished remain as phantoms. Listening to an Archana song is like stepping on to one of these old battlefields, seeing the spirits, hearing the call of these struggles which shaped the world. To listen all the way through an Archana album is to have been a fog slowly rolling over this land, intermingling with the phantom spirits and echoes from the past as you passed over them, as if they still existed corporeally today. Legends never die. Neither do Goonies.

Dancing Fairies, August Malmström, 1866

I’m starting to suspect you write for a living, haha. As much as I enjoy your tales of spatial exploration, I’d love to shift our focus to another fundamental thread, being time, both present and future. I expect you’ve been in quarantine because of COVID-19 for a while now. How are you holding up? How does this affect the label? And what can we, as fellow hermits, expect of Mystic Timbre in 2020?

I definitely spend my life writing; yet to find someone willing to pay me for it though, hah.

I almost feel bad about the good fortune in my circumstances regarding COVID, relative to the tens of millions who've lost their jobs and are otherwise struggling to get through the pandemic, not to mention those people and their loved ones suffering from the sickness itself. My personal situation allows for me to complete my current semester of school online and work from home. As far as the quarantine is concerned, I was forged in self-isolation, haha, so a few weeks or even months without extended social contact is really not so terrifying. As I said, I'm not overly fond of glorifying my good fortune in a crisis, but the extra time I've been given to work on the label has been invaluable.

As such, the Mystic Timbre train will continue rolling full steam ahead through the pandemic, all the way through 2020. Having planned the label and set money aside for it for years before launch has enabled us to be in a position where all the funds for everything we have planned through the end of the year are all accounted for, and our release schedule of 2 albums every 3 weeks will continue unimpeded. The only snag might be in the release of the tapes for our 35th and 36th releases: TAKAHIRO MUKAI's Fusty Stuffy and The Wyndham Research Institute's Interim Report, which are scheduled to release in mid-May, but due to a 30-day closure of our cassette manufacture could be delayed by what should be a minimal amount of time. I fully expect every other tape to be ready not only by their planned release dates, but even a bit earlier. The Rites and Emerald Grotto tapes, scheduled for late June, ought to be ready to ship out pre-orders several weeks in advance of those dates.

We're going to be unveiling a couple of excellent ambient albums over the coming weeks, one from label-regular SELVEDGE and another from newcomer Manuka out of Scotland. We've got several noise, often bordering on the harsh end of the spectrum, tentatively planned to be announced late summer/early autumn; a few more Dungeon Synth albums in the fall; and I actually just received an email this morning about a new esoteric black metal project from the members of Abhasa, which promises to be absolutely mesmerizing. And that's really just the tip of the iceberg!

Mystic Timbre on Bandcamp

Summoning - Lost Tales

Napalm Records, 2003

It was like a gloom, with a thousand facets 
It shone like silver in the firelight 
like water in the sun, 
like snow under the stars, 
like rain upon the moon 

Stuck between the much-praised Let Mortal Heroes Sing Your Fame and Oath Bound rests Old Tales; an odd addition to Summoning’s extensive discography due to its lack of guitars, screeches, and brief play length. Featuring enhanced echoes of material that stems from Dol Guldur and Silenius’ Mirkwood, one could argue that Lost Tales balances between being a short compilation and stand-alone endeavor. Therefore, I think it might be interesting to approach the record not as an isolated work of art but rather as a mirror with which we can reflect on Summoning’s broader material. Throughout this writing, I’ll try to give an interpretation of how Lost Tales relates to the project’s other works - and in what ways it branches off.

Within its first 45 seconds, the opening track Arcenstone manages to do something that is so unlike Summoning that I can not simply ignore it, even if it is such minute detail. In between a conversation concerning the Arkenstone, there is this fragile and unstable violin melody. It stutters, reestablishes itself, detunes and finally dissolves, to never return again. What makes this brief moment stand out, is Summoning’s oeuvre’s overall lack of attention to fragility and uncertainty. The project’s musical landscapes - not unlike many of Tolkien’s sceneries - are vast, open, and more often than not portray courage, power, and pride. When Silinius and Protector go for a more quiet and timid approach Summoning’s palette can become gentle and mysterious - as can be heard in a track like Dol Guldur’s Angbands Schmieden. Yet, very scarcely do we find a level of intimacy as is portrayed within Arcenstone’s first seconds.

Let us not dwell on this, for the thought of a more delicate Summoning gets mercilessly trampled by proud bombast as soon as the track starts to build up steam. Honestly,  Arcenstone is a trademark Summoning track, despite originally being written for Mirkwood. Its melodies remind of those on Minas Morgul and Dol Guldur; they’re soothing yet powerful. Its diverse use of both soaring and pulsing synths creates a dynamic that beautifully co-operates with the pacing of the rhythm section. One could easily imagine guitars and vocals creating an explosive final act - but they do not, and it honestly does not matter.

Where Arcenstone drifts off in a comfortable fashion that most of us would classify as typically Summoning, it is Saruman’s aggressive bombast that harks back so far I find myself back in Lugburz territory. Where some have claimed that Summoning’s real discography started with Minas Morgul, it was the fierce black metal-induced Lugburz that at first waved the Summoning banner. While Protector in an interview from 2006 proclaimed that the debut is disliked by both him and Silenius, it is interesting to hear that at least the energy that was found in Trifixion‘s hectic drumming managed to re-introduce itself briefly as the percussional foundation of Saruman.

Sadly, Saruman does not evolve beyond its bombast. Even when the synths take a step back, the percussion keeps pounding away. We could argue that this echoes Isengard’s ever-going industrial urges but at the same time it turns a 9-minute song - that does carry interesting elements - into a tiresome ride.

In the end, Lost Tales can be seen as a fascinating addition to every Summoning fan’s collection. While in its core the two tracks stay very loyal to what can be considered Summoning-esque, they also engage with rarities like delicacy and hecticness; two elements that Summoning still hasn’t managed to successfully incorporate within their sound.

TL;DR: Arcenstone is an absolute gem and makes it that Lost Tales deserves a spot in every Dungeoneer’s collection.

Summoning on Bandcamp | Summoning on Facebook

Lost Tales - An Old Wizard's Secrets

Mystic Timbre, 2020

"I looked then and saw that his robes, which had seemed white, were not so, but were woven of all colours, and if he moved they shimmered and changed hue so that the eye was bewildered."

To me, a great amount of Dungeon Synth’s quality can be measured through its hummability. While I’ll always be receptive to long-winded corridors of texture and specific types of production, it’ll be a chain of notes that decides whether or not I will return to a song or album. Which raises the question: does An Old Wizard’s Secrets make me hum like an aging magician, finding its way through its singular vision?

If you’d asked me this question back in January I’d told you that there was no doubt in my mind it would. The then released track Follow One’s Singular Vision was a lovable devotion to old-school hummability - and has seen many repeats in this house. Now, two months later, I am surprised by the diversity An Old Wizard’s Secrets brings to the table. Not only did we get the earworms I so highly praise but we got a carefully balanced composition along with them. This levitates Lost Tales’ effort from highly catchy to mainly catchy but more-often engaging.

While short, the album feels cohesive. Slow and long-winded passages dance with adventurous and upbeat melodies; all drenched in a production that harks back to a pre-90’s setting. A few copies of the cassette are still available, so do yourself a favor and plunge within this first world by Lost Tales. A world out of which I hope many others will come forth.

TL;DR: Short but engaging Dungeon Synth. I believe it makes your beard grow faster.

Lost Tales on Bandcamp | Mystic Timbre on Bandcamp