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

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

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

Forlorn Kingdom - Distant Apparitions

Self-released, 2020

"Isn't it gorgeous? 
I hope we have the coldest winter ever."

Forlorn Kingdom got a small wave of attention when it released Walking The Paths Of Old back in 2019. It contained material that was produced between 2013 and 2015, and its unexpected praise led the creator to introduce us to a follow-up called Ancient Winter's Domain which saw the light of day last September. Now, Distant Apparitions has found itself into existence; a 28-minute run of old-school Dungeon Synth, that has been made physical on cassette for a very select audience.

When I say old-school, I mean straight on Voldsom vibes. Wintry, melodic, and with that rare quality to take over a room within seconds. Distant Apparations comes at this perfect time of the year in which the days are still short and dark, making its atmosphere very relatable and appropriate for any hour of the day. Its strongest moments are when we get treated to its spare use of percussion. These cold and distant hits - on what I imagine to be a wooden surface - enhance the repetitive melodies and truly broadens up the musical spectrum in which the listener effectively wanders off.

2020 Has just arrived and Forlorn Kingdom already sets a very high bar for upcoming releases due to its immersive character and all-round stellar production. One can only hope for the material to be made available physically later this year. Until then, I’ll just be pressing replay on Bandcamp.

TL;DR: An old school-esque release that opens up and draws one in from the get-go. Highly recommended.

Forlorn Kingdom on Bandcamp

Barak Tor - March of The Triumphator

Neuropa Records, 2018

“For us, there is no spring.
Just the wind that smells fresh before the storm.”

When I think of ‘Barbaric’ music, I think of acts like Blasphemy and Revenge, with their muddled caveman riffing and fast but sloppy drumming. When keeping warmetal out of the equation, I think of steady pounding rhythms, devoid of melody, trance-inducing, and so loud that you can literally feel every hit. To be barbaric means to be unsophisticated, lack nuance and act rude. Yet here I am, holding this marvelous piece of music called March of The Triumphator; a record that is ought to be barbaric but positively floors me with its delicate nuances.

In an interview with Barbarian Skull from 2018, Barak Tor explains that this genre-description is “not only because of the concept but also because [the music] is simple, straightforward and quite monolithic, as barbarian prehistoric civilization.” And whilst descriptions like those evoke memories of Sun O))) live-shows - amongst other things that Barak Tor share little resemblance with - let us simply embrace the genre-description for now and dive into the music.

March of The Triumphator is a fantastic experience. You know you’re in for a ride when the first notes of a record already lure you in - and what follows simply doesn’t stop grabbing your attention. In 42-minutes time, Barak Tor continuously changes its palette when it comes to instruments and atmospheres. One moment a gentle wind instrument lifts you up, the other you’re being assaulted by grand war drums. Its layered compositions do not only stress the albums replay value but also make it that the atmospheres on the record are never one-dimensional. These are not just proud war songs, nor are they specifically frivolous or melancholic. Not unlike Conan the Barbarian, these songs shine because of their polished nature. They’re never too gritty, too overwhelming, or too light-hearted. Rather, they’re all of these things, constantly interchanging and overlapping, tumbling over each other and enhancing their own effectiveness. Honestly, you can drop your needle anywhere on this record, and it will instantly draw you in.

This record was one of the first when it comes to contemporary Dungeon Synth being released on vinyl, and for good reason. If there are still copies out there, consider it a must-have because Barak Tor’s combination of moods and broad instrumentation provides a solid and diverse musical escape.

TL;DR: Highly recommended and sophisticatedly approached Barbaric Dungeon Synth. Like its first influences, Hero’s Quest and Conan the Barbarian, it merely pretends to be barbaric whilst actually engaging in much richer dynamics.

Barak Tor on Bandcamp | Barak Tor on Facebook

INTERVIEW: Silent Cabin

Gently Unveiled, 2019

The Finnish Silent Cabin has been delivering melancholic Dungeon Synth since early 2016. The project’s latest creation, Gently Veiled, was one of my favorite surprises of 2019 - and has broken the silence within my own cabin for many times since its release in August. Its creator took the time to answer some of my questions concerning the birth, development and potential future of the project.

While the music of Silent Cabin speaks volumes, I do wonder were the projects origins lie. What caused you to so dedicatedly make this type of music?

So, in late 2015 I started to get into more extreme and experimental (for lack of a better word) music, Vaporwave and Black Metal mostly. The first thing close to Dungeon Synth I listened to was Dream Castle by Tanning Salon and I was instantly intrigued by it. I then found Depressive Silence and Voldsom Tapes and spent the first half of 2016 listening to more and more Dungeon Synth and Ambient music.
I then soon decided to start my own project; inspired not only by the sounds I had discovered but also by my own very much melancholic mindset.

Those are some great starting points when it comes to discovering a new genre! While there are a lot of differences between Vaporwave, Black Metal, and Dungeon Synth, all three genres do heavily tap into feeling like melancholy and nostalgia.
What do you think that makes Dungeon Synth such a fitting vessel for these feelings of loss and longing?

I think Dungeon Synth as a genre is still considered a relatively outsider one. For me, it has always been easier to put out my thoughts for a smaller audience.
I’ve always enjoyed listening and creating the minimal and hypnotic side of the genre the most, and I think that those elements make it perfect for expressing myself at the rawest.

Garden of Death, Hugo Simberg, 1896

When listening to your debut, Forgotten in a Cold Forest, it seems that there’s been quite a transformation in Silent Cabin when it comes to atmosphere. How would you describe the project has evolved throughout the years?

Looking back, I didn't really know about music theory at all when I made my first recordings. They were mostly experiments with VSTs, trying to emulate the atmospheres of Old School Dungeon Synth. My personal favorite from the early releases is definitely Lonely Mountains, which was basically worshipping the earlier mentioned Dream Castle album.

There were four releases in total made in 2016, and I actually think I had burnt out quite a bit by the release of Gates Of Autumn. On We Left, I returned to making music and I'd say that It was the turning point in the project. I started to go in a more ambient/drone/progressive electronic direction, inspired (mostly) by the early progressive electronic tapes of Oneohtrix Point Never.
By this time I also decided to do these releases as a trilogy (all having cover art by Hugo Simberg and his symbolic theme depicting death).

Fragile Voices was the final part of the trilogy and I actually considered ending the project there.  Things took an unexpected turn though, as I was contacted in spring by Britt from So Called Hell wanting to release a new album of mine on cassette. I actually composed Gently Veiled very quickly, using some outtakes from Fragile Voices as the foundation, while also doing new stuff from scratch. Although Gently Veiled, as said, was done very quickly, I actually consider it my greatest work so far; my understanding of basic music theory has helped me improve a lot. In conclusion, Silent Cabin has evolved a lot primarily as my musical skills and life have changed during the years.

Sometimes the greatest things appear when we aren’t upholding ourselves to previous standards and just experiment within the moment - as you have proven with Gently Veiled. Will this be a continuous approach for Silent Cabin, or do you have other plans for the future?

I've been working on some new ideas recently, and am hoping in the future to release a new album on a label who would be willing to work with me. I also run my own small label, Lahja, on which I'm planning to reissue Lonely Mountains on a later date.

Talvimaisema, Hugo Simberg, circa 1891-1899

Is there a local scene for Silent Cabin and Lahja-releases, or do you find your music is mainly embraced by a small, faceless but world-wide group of connoisseurs?

My supporters are definitely spread around the world.
Also, I myself am not in any related local scene, really. Overall there's only been a handful of orders (of my tapes) inside Finland.

Does this also mean that there’s little live-activity for Dungeon Synth in Finland? And if Silent Cabin was to play live once, what would be the perfect setting and line-up?

Last year, I was actually contacted by someone planning to organize a small Dungeon Synth event here. I think nothing really came from it though.
As of Silent Cabin, I don’t have plans to play live at all. For me, Dungeon Synth is a genre you enjoy better on a tape player than in a live setting.

Silent Cabin on Bandcamp | Silent Cabin on Facebook

Pafund - Til rigets ende

Realm & Ritual, 2020

"I am alone;
I am always alone
no matter what."

Stripped to what could be the genre’s absolute minimum in terms of instrumentation and composition, is Pafund’s opening of its latest release Til rigets ende. This 30-minute track has been broken up into two separate ones, and takes its time to slowly but steadily creep into the listeners head.

Do not expect Til rigets ende to instantly provide you with multi-layered bombast, pounding drums or catchy melodies. Instead, the record’s first half chooses to spread its atmosphere carefully by building passage upon passage that is rich in texture, yet poor in diversity. This way, Pafund manages to successfully mimic grey and beaten pathways, long-abandoned corridors, and the dreading feeling of actually being alone.

When after 14 minutes the album’s first melody kicks in, it is not one of relief. Rather, the distorted and muffled sound of the tones enhances this feeling of forsakenness that has been so carefully build-up. As the intensity of the music slowly starts to rise, Pafund allows color to enter its spectrum and unexpectedly opens up to what is its first embracing moment.

The way Til rigets ende provides a sonic narrative is worthy of praise and many, many repeated listens. Do act fast though, because Realm & Ritual will release an extremely limited cassette later this month - and I expect it to be gone real quick.

TL;DR: Beautiful, lo-fi Dungeon Synth that transcends the creation of mere atmosphere and enters a realm of compositional story-telling.

Pafund on Bandcamp | Pafund on Facebook

Grandma's Cottage - Grandma's Cottage

Self-released, 2019

“One can never have enough socks.
Another Christmas has come and gone
and I didn’t get a single pair.
People will insist on giving me books.”

Today's example of “things that make me sad but shouldn’t”, is Grandma’s Cottage. Describing itself as Comfy Synth, the project firmly positions itself in the genre’s legacy of evoking a longing for things that never occurred. While other projects awaken vistas of magic, fantasy realms, or a fictional version of medieval Europe, Grandma’s Cottage seems to aim at collective ideals of childhood and nurture; concepts that established themselves partly through illustrative Christmas cards, holiday movies, and popular fairytales.

Atmospherically, the short album can be best described as getting tucked in with a warm blanket. Its 13-minute run is filled to the brim with pleasant, frolic melodies, which are grounded by subtle and simple basslines. Its slow character emphasizes the setting that’s already been set by the cover artwork and titles - of which “go fish” personally hits home the hardest.

What elevates Grandma’s Cottage as a concept is not merely its warm embrace. While creating a naively wholesome atmosphere during its musical playtime, all songs on the album get mercilessly cut-off at the end; pulling the listener back to its factional status quo for a split second. In my personal case that would mean: without any grandparents, having outgrown my childhood, and with no foreseeable possibility to relive the setting Grandma’s Cottage so craftily explores. It’s this element, combined with the reflective nature of the music, that makes it so much more than a mere gimmick to chuckle over - and serenely bath within.

Due to this potentially confrontational effect, Grandma’s Cottage positions itself as an incredibly effective project that serves as a prime example (or critique?) of Dungeon Synth’s stout illusory nature.

TL;DR: While commoners delve into caverns, the brave delve deep into their own childhood.

Grandma's Cottage on Bandcamp

For a take on Grandma's Cottage's second effort, we recommend reading this review by The Dungeon In Deep Space; a platform that had dedicated itself fully to Dungeon Synth and related sounds since its start in August 2019.

Sidereal Fortress - Vette Inquiete

Heimat Der Katastrophe, 2018

Deh, spiriti miei, quando mi vedete
con tanta pena, come non mandate
fuor della mente parole adornate
di pianto, dolorose e sbigottite?

Hailing from the Italian landscapes of Florence was Sidereal Fortress. A project that brought forth an impressive discography and, sadly, ceased to exist this very year. Gone, but not forgotten, as Vette Inquiete has unveiled itself to be an effort I’ll happily revisit from this day on.

In 40 minutes' time, Sidereal Fortress paints a landscape that echoes a fictional, medieval Italy; a sight that can be as sunny and welcoming, as it is dark and dangerous. Narratively, the album speaks volumes by gracefully diving into dark and oppressive ambiances, yet giving just enough light and warmth to guide us along. The best example of this might be the mesmerizing, foreboding, and personal favorite, ‘Castrum Vetus’. Starting off as one of the album’s most sinister tunes, it beautifully opens up at the end, shifting tone severely for a brief moment, only to once more surround the listener by darkness.

Vette Inquiete’s biggest threat is how easy it is to hum along with its melodies. Do not mistake this accessibility for simplicity, because the record hosts a pleasantly layered complexity. Rather, see it as an unexpected adventure in a familiar dungeon.

TL;DR: While in its core foreboding, Vette Inquiete offers a wide palette of flavours through which it gracefully shifts as it pleases.

Sidereal Fortress on Bandcamp | Heimat Der Katastrophe on Bandcamp

INTERVIEW: Utred

Gothic

There is joy and love to be found in the works of Utred. They’re spontaneous, adventurous, and to me personally, one of the highlights of the current scene. With the bombastic and light-hearted Gothic in the background, I sat down with its creator to discuss his creative output.

First of all, congratulations on your latest record! While your previous efforts are amongst some of my favorites, I do feel that Gothic has pushed your creative capabilities immensely. It’s catchy, mesmerizing and all-in-all such an exciting ride. How did these four songs come into existence, and what do they mean to you as the author?

Thank you so much. I’ve put a lot of work into this album. The first idea was to compose a long track, based on the organ timbres of my synthesizer, and without repetitions, so it would flow in the same way as you would tell a story. The second track follows this concept, but with harpsichord timbres. The two short tracks at the end aim to make the album lighter. "Helmet" is a reminiscence of the first album Citadel, and "Chalice" is kind of an experimental track, with new tones and a delicate arrangement. So, in the end, we have this upward structure throughout the album, in an effort to recreate Gothic architecture in sound.

I love the idea of recreating physical architecture throughout the ungraspable medium that is sound. Where does your fascination with Gothic architecture come from? Is it very present throughout Moscow?

Mostly it comes from books and films since we don't have much Gothic architecture in Moscow, just a few cathedrals. The architecture does have a tight connection with scholasticism, which is my second inspiration for the album. I found out about this theological school when I was forced to study philosophy for postgraduate studies and was fascinated by the originality of its ideas.

Knowing that you’re from Russia, I’m probably wrong, but does Utred refer to the Swedish verb utreda, meaning “to investigate”? And even if not, do you see your work with Utred as some sort of investigation?

Wow, I didn't know that. We do have many artifacts of medieval Swedish expansion in the burial mounds over here though, especially in the region of Smolensk, where my mother was born. When speaking about any original form of art, "to investigate" is absolutely the right expression. And yes, I am incredibly passionate about investigating new musical landscapes.

I’ve got to be honest. My first encounter with Utred was thanks to the Toto cover “Africa”. I immediately ordered Tribute I + II on cassette and even though I’ve heard those songs many, many times, they still manage to put a smile on my face. What drove you to create these fantastic covers - and why these particular songs?

I asked myself the question: “Would I be able to play some beloved rock songs on my lonely synthesizer, with a fully painted palette and in the vein of the Dungeon Synth genre?” The choosing of songs was simple since they contain my favorite melodies, and I like them very much. "Africa" was recorded especially for my friend Anton from the project Raevjager, he is absolutely mad about this song.

It’s one of my favorites as well!
What does the future hold for Utred? Can we expect new themes, or will we dive further into what you’ve already dug into?

The future plan is to publish remastered versions of all albums (except Gothic) and to record a new one next year. I wouldn't like to tell any details, so a little intrigue still exists.

The final words are all yours!

Thank you very much for this interview. I wish everybody to be healthy and prosperous, to love and to be loved. Stay true at any cost.

Utred on Bandcamp

Fiendish Imp - Fiendish Imp

Dunkelheit Produktionen, 2018

“She is large and I am small -- but

Oh! How I dance and prance ‘round all!

And though she's queen

How I will glean

Her only child as I'd foreseen”

To wager with the mischievous might be one of our most exciting activities. Tricksters are charming creatures, not only by presence, but mainly because they’ve always given us the idea that we could outsmart them. We could out riddle the troll on the bridge, trick Mephisto in his own game, wrangle the ring from Gollum’s fingers, or guess Rumpelstiltskin’s name. These creatures offer us an exciting gamble. And we'll probably lose, but there’s always a chance. Isn’t there?

Fiendish Imp fully taps into this mischievous atmosphere. Its melodies are quirky but carry a weight that doesn’t become clear until we’ve reached the latter part of the record. Within 18 minutes it slowly transforms its airy and playful attitude to a much more serious and foreboding one, successfully mirroring old folklore in the process. This subtle switch of attitude - and the rather short playtime - really encourages repeated listens. To be honest, I’ve been returning to this little devil since its release in October 2018.

It saddens me to say that the Imp has outsmarted me. 

I’ve fallen under its spell and signed my name.

TL;DR: A captivating and malevolent effort.

Fiendish Imp on Bandcamp | Fiendish Imp on Facebook

Shy Knight - Shy Knight

Self-released, 2019

“This is not only about him,
this is about all of us.”

Some knights are brave, others are villainess - and then there’s Shy Knight; a tiny man in armor, tumbling down dungeons. It’s not particularly reserved in a stylish way, rather, its aura borders on nervous timidity; a character that only gets enhanced by the use of what’s seemingly one single synth sound.

What I like the most about Shy Knight is its inability to fully finish melodies. Somewhere near the end they kind of fall apart, like a sentence that just doesn’t really hit home. Combining this with a slightly lo-fi sound makes this debut such an adorably naive effort that I can only hope that this is all intentional - because it's either that, or I’m just reading into it way too much!

And hey, I know. Being in dungeons can be stressful. The lack of sunshine and fresh air sometimes really gets to you. The solitude and dampness don’t particularly train your social skills, nor does it give you a healthy dose of self-reflection. Shy Knight is an honest depiction of listening to too much doots and suddenly setting foot in the outside world, after what might have been an eternity downstairs.

TL;DR: Simplistic, quirky and charming.

Shy Knight on Bandcamp

Trolltjern ‎- Hymner Fra Trolltjern

Self-released, 1995

"Eg høyrde vindsuset kalle meg
Oppi fjellet oppi fjellet
Den tok meg vekk i fra folksom gard
Oppi fjellet oppi fjellet"

20 Minutes of music is enough to wander deep into Norwegian forests. It is enough to get lost in the fog, with only a sporadic appearing moon for guidance. It is enough to expect to hear another's footsteps getting nearer any moment - yet it never happens. We are alone, cold, and surrounded by the sparsely colored and vivid imagery of untouched Northern landscapes.

There’s this beauty in tape hiss. It stretches far beyond mere conventional aesthetics and manages to carry and ascend music through its gentle waves. Combined with Hymner Fra Trolltjern’s subtle melodies, spoken words and wind samples, it continuously paints pictures that have a pleasing similarity with the cassette’s artwork, and extends the experience the music alone already offers.

Honestly, why isn’t there more of this? With a burgeoning scene, releasing material frantically, it baffles me that there is so little material that harkens back to the atmosphere Trolltjern already introduced back in 1995. Don’t get me wrong; this is no plea to produce similar sounds, since I love the genre's current diversity. It’s just that Hymner Fra Trolltjern is so incredibly convincing that I find it difficult to believe it’s not a much broader embraced influence.

TL;DR: Oldschool but extraordinary refreshing.

Trolltjern on Youtube

Isenfeldt - Hall of Kings

Self-released, 2016

All harmony, all wondrous fairness
Aloof from passions and the world.
She rests with tranquil unawareness
In her triumphant beauty furled.

It’s quite common for me to refer to Dungeon Synth as bombastic, atmospheric, quirky, trance-inducing, lo-fi, or use other useful terms that describe the sounds that I’m hearing. Very rarely though, the first thing that pops into my mind is beautiful.

Now, this might be because this descriptor feels a bit obvious. When you’re enthusiastic about something, there’s a big chance that you’ve found a sense of beauty within it. Skipping its notion feels almost necessary to actually get to the point that you’re trying to get across.
I’d like to make an exception when it comes to Isenfeldt’s Hall of Kings.

It’s beautiful.

Right. There you have it! Plain as day! Isenfeldt delivers a soothing, folksy type of Dungeon Synth/ Medieval Folk that occasionally showcases a rather intrepid character. It’s carefully layered with a broad variety of instruments, of which the harp plays the most dominant role, bringing forth delightful melodies while it dances around its accompanying plucked-, percussive- and wind instruments.

Hall of Kings is a record that shines because of its subtle complexity. Never does it catch us off-guard or overwhelm us with an awful lot of notes. Instead, it enhances its rather typical sound with the sparse use of polyrhythms, texture changes, and organic-sounding passages.
I'd suggest you'd give it a go! Also, if you have any recent information about this project, do feel free to contact me. They seem to be active again on VK, but my Russian isn't very applaudable - to say the least.

TL;DR: прекрасный

Isenfeldt on Bandcamp

Isenfeldt, 2019

Vetus Supulcrum - From The Land Of Shadows

Kapmes Records, 2019

"We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than Orcs, in the deep places of the world."

What’s so lovely about Dungeon Synth from the Netherlands, is how it covers quite a thematic region. You have your edgy, basement-dwelling, blackened thematics, you have forefather-honoring dreamscapes, there are playful releases about curious turtles and - of course - there’s Vetus Supulcrum, delivering its unique combination of serenity and bombast.

Vetus Supulcrum has been around since February 2019 and steadily released quality material in a short timeframe. Some of you might know its creator, M. de Jong, through his other works. Gnaw Their Tongues has had a kvlt-following for years now and - my personal favorite - Seirom has attracted a much broader audience with its soothing ambient/drone-like releases. It feels good to have such a seasoned musician enter the scene - and it suffices to say that From The Land Of Shadows delivers the quality you might expect.

M. de Jong

If there’s one word for this record, it would be rich. Not only because of its diversity, but mainly because of its sonic spectrum. Every track has a very, very dense production in which multiple layers of sound expose themselves to the listener. Even during those moments in which the bombast has taken a backseat, we are still left with very full-produced synths that fill up the entire room. And yes, one really has to applaud the depth of Vetus Supulcrum’s drums, for they feel as if they’re recorded in the Mines of Moria themselves.

Compositionally we’re treated to a broad display of instruments, voices, and atmospheres, making the record a rather adventurous one. Instead of confronting us with some monotonous navel-gazing, Vetus Supulcrum takes the listener by the hand to show what this Land Of Shadows is precisely made of. And let’s be honest. It’s wonderful.

TL;DR: Highly recommended.
A rich cinematographic experience to explore at one's own risk.

Vetus Supulcrum on Bandcamp | Vetus Spulcrum on Facebook