⛧
Burzum (1992)
The first full-length from Burzum was recorded in Grieghallen and released in March 1992 on Deathlike Silence Productions. This L.P. delivers bleak, primitive black metal with mournful melodies cutting through raw, minimalistic instrumentation. Count Grishnackh’s tortured screams add a layer of raw anguish that fits the cold atmosphere.
I first heard “Spell of Destruction” on a CD my friend brought over one night, many years ago. At the time, the only Norwegian black metal I had was “Over fjell og gjennom torner”, so this felt like something completely different. The melodies fit my mood perfectly, but what stood out most were the vocals. Those raw, miserable screams didn’t sound like anything I’d heard before, not even “Triumph of Death”. I couldn’t decipher the lyrics but somehow those mournful wails and sombre melodies spoke to me on some deeper level.
The songwriting here is strong and varied, each track carving its own dark path. The album feels like a journey into a bleak, shadowy realm rather than a collection of songs. He wrote and recorded everything, perfectly, without even the benefit of being able to rehearse the songs or hear them in the entirety until after he was finished. He simply knew what they were supposed to sound like, in his head, and made it happen. Many other one-man bands, often inspired by Burzum, usually display their shortcomings with one or more instruments, but such is not the case here. Even if the playing isn't very tight, it serves the material. Similarly, the production is rather stripped-down compared to later albums, but this adds to the dismal feeling of the record.
From the freezing, bleak tremolo melodies of "Feeble Screams from Forests Unknown" and "My Journey to the Stars" to the haunting riffs of "Ea, Lord of the Depths" and the dreary open arpeggios on "Spell of Destruction", everything here has a purpose. The song structures give the album an epic feel. The faster riffs and blasting drums are used sparingly, just one element of Burzum's sound. The most poignant moments come during “Feeble...” and “Spell...”, where the other instruments drop away and only a simple, mournful guitar remains. In the latter, this leads into a miserable riff accompanied by the most agonizing screams imaginable. Unlike most of those who tried to emulate him, Count Grishnackh's vocals possess something primal and the anguish is mixed with a deep hatred.
Not every track is meant to crush the spirit. The ambient pieces, and even the pure Bathory worship of “War”, serve to give the listener brief breaks from the more emotionally draining material. The original version of "A Lost Forgotten Sad Spirit" lacks the oppressive atmosphere of the re-recorded version, which I'd actually heard first, so this could be considered a weak spot.
Burzum is one of the most essential and iconic black metal albums of the early '90s. While it would be somewhat overshadowed by what followed, this debut laid the foundation. Standout tracks include “Feeble Screams from Forests Unknown” and “Spell of Destruction”, both of which epitomize the miserable, isolated feeling better than anything else here.
I first heard “Spell of Destruction” on a CD my friend brought over one night, many years ago. At the time, the only Norwegian black metal I had was “Over fjell og gjennom torner”, so this felt like something completely different. The melodies fit my mood perfectly, but what stood out most were the vocals. Those raw, miserable screams didn’t sound like anything I’d heard before, not even “Triumph of Death”. I couldn’t decipher the lyrics but somehow those mournful wails and sombre melodies spoke to me on some deeper level.
The songwriting here is strong and varied, each track carving its own dark path. The album feels like a journey into a bleak, shadowy realm rather than a collection of songs. He wrote and recorded everything, perfectly, without even the benefit of being able to rehearse the songs or hear them in the entirety until after he was finished. He simply knew what they were supposed to sound like, in his head, and made it happen. Many other one-man bands, often inspired by Burzum, usually display their shortcomings with one or more instruments, but such is not the case here. Even if the playing isn't very tight, it serves the material. Similarly, the production is rather stripped-down compared to later albums, but this adds to the dismal feeling of the record.
From the freezing, bleak tremolo melodies of "Feeble Screams from Forests Unknown" and "My Journey to the Stars" to the haunting riffs of "Ea, Lord of the Depths" and the dreary open arpeggios on "Spell of Destruction", everything here has a purpose. The song structures give the album an epic feel. The faster riffs and blasting drums are used sparingly, just one element of Burzum's sound. The most poignant moments come during “Feeble...” and “Spell...”, where the other instruments drop away and only a simple, mournful guitar remains. In the latter, this leads into a miserable riff accompanied by the most agonizing screams imaginable. Unlike most of those who tried to emulate him, Count Grishnackh's vocals possess something primal and the anguish is mixed with a deep hatred.
Not every track is meant to crush the spirit. The ambient pieces, and even the pure Bathory worship of “War”, serve to give the listener brief breaks from the more emotionally draining material. The original version of "A Lost Forgotten Sad Spirit" lacks the oppressive atmosphere of the re-recorded version, which I'd actually heard first, so this could be considered a weak spot.
Burzum is one of the most essential and iconic black metal albums of the early '90s. While it would be somewhat overshadowed by what followed, this debut laid the foundation. Standout tracks include “Feeble Screams from Forests Unknown” and “Spell of Destruction”, both of which epitomize the miserable, isolated feeling better than anything else here.
(7 Sept. 2008)
Aske (1993)
Aske was released in March 1993 on Deathlike Silence Productions. It was recorded in August 1992 at Grieghallen Studios and produced by Count Grishnackh and Pytten. This E.P. is unique in that it features a session member as Samoth of Emperor plays bass. At the time, the Count was considering putting together a full lineup to perform live. Despite being Burzum’s second release, Aske was recorded after Det som engang var, which was meant to come out first. The cover shows the burned ruins of Fantoftkirke, a church set ablaze in 1992 by Count Grishnackh.
There are only three tracks here, and yet care seems to have been taken in their arrangement. "Stemmen fra tårnet" isn’t bad, though its more upbeat, energetic riffs sharply contrast with the bleak atmosphere of the other song. Whether or not that was by design, who knows? “Dominus Sathanas” is a dark, atmospheric instrumental placed between the two main songs. Recorded in April 1992, around the same time as Det som engang var, it fits right in with that album’s vibe.
The highlight of the E.P. is the re-recorded version of “A Lost Forgotten Sad Spirit”. Slower and longer than the original, this version has more space to develop the atmosphere. The early, faster sections benefit from the improved production. Here, the guitars have more weight, whereas on the debut they were often drowned out by overly loud drums. The slower riffs carry more emotional weight this time around, and the mournful melodies are given more room to settle in. Count Grishnackh’s screams embody a sense of misanthropic despair, especially as the song drags to a near halt in the final moments, where everything feels drained and lifeless.
Aske is a brief but essential E.P. that shows the continued development of Burzum's sound. The material here was added onto later reissues of the debut, with the re-recorded song replacing the original, so it's not difficult to comme by. Anyone into this band, or early Norwegian black metal in general, should certainly give this a listen.
There are only three tracks here, and yet care seems to have been taken in their arrangement. "Stemmen fra tårnet" isn’t bad, though its more upbeat, energetic riffs sharply contrast with the bleak atmosphere of the other song. Whether or not that was by design, who knows? “Dominus Sathanas” is a dark, atmospheric instrumental placed between the two main songs. Recorded in April 1992, around the same time as Det som engang var, it fits right in with that album’s vibe.
The highlight of the E.P. is the re-recorded version of “A Lost Forgotten Sad Spirit”. Slower and longer than the original, this version has more space to develop the atmosphere. The early, faster sections benefit from the improved production. Here, the guitars have more weight, whereas on the debut they were often drowned out by overly loud drums. The slower riffs carry more emotional weight this time around, and the mournful melodies are given more room to settle in. Count Grishnackh’s screams embody a sense of misanthropic despair, especially as the song drags to a near halt in the final moments, where everything feels drained and lifeless.
Aske is a brief but essential E.P. that shows the continued development of Burzum's sound. The material here was added onto later reissues of the debut, with the re-recorded song replacing the original, so it's not difficult to comme by. Anyone into this band, or early Norwegian black metal in general, should certainly give this a listen.
(8 Sept. 2008)
Det som engang var (1993)
Det som engang var was recorded in Grieghallen, in April 1992, not long after the release of the self-titled debut. Like that album, this was produced by Count Grishnackh and Pytten. Its release was delayed until August 1993. Originally intended to be the second official Burzum recording, the Aske E.P. was mistakenly put out before this. It was by this point that the Count had a falling out with owner of DSP, Euronymous, and decided to start his own label, Cymophane Productions. If he could not rely on others, he would take matters into his own hands and see to it that things would be done properly.
In interviews from early 1993, Grishnackh expressed his disappointment in the delay of this monumental album and worried that it would be dated and already ripped off countless times before it was ever officially released. He may have been underestimating his own abilities, as this record was far ahead of anything else being done in the black metal scene.
This album is more sombre and atmospheric than the debut. Even songs that start out more energetic or aggressive--like the Destruction-inspired thrash riffs in “Key to the Gate” or the Hellhammer-esque opening of “Lost Wisdom”--eventually transition into something slower and drearier. Some songs utlize simple but effective guitar solos that add depth as well. “Snu mikrokosmos tegn” blasts forward with tremolo riffs and pounding drums for the first half, but it too descends into something more dismal. The most epic and melancholic track is “En ring til å herske”, where sparse instrumentation and distant background vocals provide a bleak foundation for the Count’s primal cries of hatred and sorrow.
Even the instrumentals add something to the record, especially “Han som reiste”. This is a synth piece that is very similar to, and was direct inspiration for Isengard's "In the Halls..." from the Vinterskugge album. It maintains the atmosphere of sorrow and lamentation.
Det som engang var is the album that best captures the essence of Burzum. It’s the most solid from start to finish, consistent in songwriting and mood. If you had to hear just one Burzum record to understand the project, this would be the one I’d recommend.
In interviews from early 1993, Grishnackh expressed his disappointment in the delay of this monumental album and worried that it would be dated and already ripped off countless times before it was ever officially released. He may have been underestimating his own abilities, as this record was far ahead of anything else being done in the black metal scene.
This album is more sombre and atmospheric than the debut. Even songs that start out more energetic or aggressive--like the Destruction-inspired thrash riffs in “Key to the Gate” or the Hellhammer-esque opening of “Lost Wisdom”--eventually transition into something slower and drearier. Some songs utlize simple but effective guitar solos that add depth as well. “Snu mikrokosmos tegn” blasts forward with tremolo riffs and pounding drums for the first half, but it too descends into something more dismal. The most epic and melancholic track is “En ring til å herske”, where sparse instrumentation and distant background vocals provide a bleak foundation for the Count’s primal cries of hatred and sorrow.
Even the instrumentals add something to the record, especially “Han som reiste”. This is a synth piece that is very similar to, and was direct inspiration for Isengard's "In the Halls..." from the Vinterskugge album. It maintains the atmosphere of sorrow and lamentation.
Det som engang var is the album that best captures the essence of Burzum. It’s the most solid from start to finish, consistent in songwriting and mood. If you had to hear just one Burzum record to understand the project, this would be the one I’d recommend.
(8 Sept. 2008)
Et hvitt lys over skogen (1993)
Count Grishnackh was a busy man in the early '90s. In a very short span of time, he recorded the material for all of the classic Burzum albums, yet never allowed the level of quality to drop as a result. As a result of holding himself to a high standard, some material ended up taking a little more time than others to finally appear on a proper album, while others never made the cut. Such is the case with Et hvitt lys over skogen.
Somehow, I managed to be completely in the dark about the existence of this bootleg, for several years. Upon hearing it for the first time, I was stunned that this failed to make it onto one of the official albums. I also assumed that it was recorded during the Hvis lyset tar oss session, but most research has placed the recording of the song in the summer of 1992, during the Aske session. At any rate, this was a welcome surprise.
"Et hvitt lys over skogen" is a somewhat lengthy song, approaching the ten-minute mark. As expected, everything about this falls in line with the rest of the material from that period. Recorded in Grieghallen, it possesses the same guitar tone that is present on the old albums, though it does not sound as if it has been properly mastered. Despite being a little rough around the edges, this is classic Burzum. The main riffs are all kind of catchy, which was sometimes the case with the Count's songwriting. It is mid-paced and even a little upbeat in a sense, but the tortured screams are what really make this stand out. The vocals convey a feeling of intense hatred and misery. When really paying close attention, it’s not terribly difficult to see why the track was not used; this kind of repetition is not exactly conducive to the same type of atmosphere found in the other songs, and the aura is not quite dark enough. Chances are, if not for the fact that it was 'lost' for some years, most may consider it kind of average. Things get more interesting later in the song, but it takes a little too long in getting there. This could have been worked on a bit more and perhaps used for a later record in a more focused and concise form; nonetheless, this never happened.
Side B contains "Lost Wisdom", but there really is nothing to say about this that has not already been said in the review for Det som engang var, and the truth is that the title track is the main attraction here.
Et hvitt lys over skogen offers a look into the past and gives Burzum fans a bit more classic material when most would have assumed this was impossible. It’s not the very best song ever composed by Count Grishnackh, but it rests somewhere in the middle range and is certainly worth hearing if you prefer the earlier approach to songwriting and vocal delivery.
"Et hvitt lys over skogen" is a somewhat lengthy song, approaching the ten-minute mark. As expected, everything about this falls in line with the rest of the material from that period. Recorded in Grieghallen, it possesses the same guitar tone that is present on the old albums, though it does not sound as if it has been properly mastered. Despite being a little rough around the edges, this is classic Burzum. The main riffs are all kind of catchy, which was sometimes the case with the Count's songwriting. It is mid-paced and even a little upbeat in a sense, but the tortured screams are what really make this stand out. The vocals convey a feeling of intense hatred and misery. When really paying close attention, it’s not terribly difficult to see why the track was not used; this kind of repetition is not exactly conducive to the same type of atmosphere found in the other songs, and the aura is not quite dark enough. Chances are, if not for the fact that it was 'lost' for some years, most may consider it kind of average. Things get more interesting later in the song, but it takes a little too long in getting there. This could have been worked on a bit more and perhaps used for a later record in a more focused and concise form; nonetheless, this never happened.
Side B contains "Lost Wisdom", but there really is nothing to say about this that has not already been said in the review for Det som engang var, and the truth is that the title track is the main attraction here.
Et hvitt lys over skogen offers a look into the past and gives Burzum fans a bit more classic material when most would have assumed this was impossible. It’s not the very best song ever composed by Count Grishnackh, but it rests somewhere in the middle range and is certainly worth hearing if you prefer the earlier approach to songwriting and vocal delivery.
(24 Sept. 2011)
Hvis lyset tar oss (1994)
Hvis lyset tar oss was recorded in Grieghallen Studios in September 1992. It’s amazing that the first three albums and an E.P. were all recorded within only eight months, yet so much musical progression takes place. This album was released on Misanthropy Records as the Count was chained in a dark dungeon by this time. He dedicated it to Fenriz and Demonaz. The album cover is artwork from Theodor Kittelsen called "Fattigmannen" (The Pauper), which suits the music.
This is widely regarded as the moment when Count Grishnackh reached his creative peak. Regarding the guitars, he retains his basic power chord and tremolo style used on the previous albums. The emphasis is on quality over quantity (a point many black metal bands fail to understand). One reason this release is so memorable and highly regarded is the fact that the songwriting is brilliant. All of the tracks flow seamlessly, and the riffs are repetitive to the point that you can't help but think that the music is simply a gateway into one's own visions and thoughts, and that the music simply acts as a catalyst, presenting possibilities and ideas to the mind.
“Det som en gang var” is the most ambitious and epic song in Burzum’s discography. It opens with a long, clean guitar intro layered with subtle keyboards that add texture without overpowering. Unlike a band like Emperor, where synths often dominate and serve as a crutch for atmosphere, here they simply accentuate the feeling of the music. The guitar work relies heavily on simple power chords and steady tremolo picking, creating a cold, hypnotic atmosphere. When the drums kick in, the pace is slow but deliberate, giving the song a heavy, immersive feel. The atmosphere is stark and despairing. Around the eight-minute mark, an immensely epic and melancholic tremolo melody cuts through like a blade of ice. The structure builds and breaks down carefully, with quiet passages that heighten the tension before leading into powerful climaxes. Grishnackh’s tormented screams are almost feral. The desperation in his voice as he cries out the song’s title, which translates to “What Once Was”, is one of the album’s most powerful moments.
“Hvis lyset tar oss” and “Inn i slottet fra droemmen” are more straightforward and feature a lot of repetition that has an almost hypnotic effect. The former keeps a steady pace with a very minimalist approach, using only subtle changes in the drumming and tremolo-picked riffs. It maintains a constant tension and creates a feeling of unease. The latter is more droning and feels like a journey through a desolate forest of overgrown paths and forgotten ruins. The rhythm section remains sparse but steady, supporting the trance-like guitar work. One is hardly given the chance to breathe until about halfway through, when the song slows down and the tension is finally released by the anguished screams of Count Grishnackh. From there, it transitions to a more mid-paced and epic riff that carries the song to its conclusion.
“Tomhet” is an ambient piece, similar to "Han som reiste", lasting around 14 minutes. It uses minimalistic synths and effects to create a vast, desolate soundscape. The tone is cold and empty, evoking feelings of isolation and despair without any traditional song structure or rhythm. This feels like a journey into pitch-black darkness, where there is no hope left and the burden of life becomes greater with each step. Near the end, the tone changes and is almost optimistic. But this suggestion of something better is only a lie, serving to deepen the misery. It serves as a fitting conclusion to the album, closing on a note of bleakness and emptiness.
Hvis lyset tar oss is a monumental record, one of the most important releases in the Norwegian black metal scene, and stands as a testament to Burzum’s vision and singular approach. Epic, atmospheric, and emotionally bleak, it’s been imitated countless times with little success. Absolutely essential listening.
This is widely regarded as the moment when Count Grishnackh reached his creative peak. Regarding the guitars, he retains his basic power chord and tremolo style used on the previous albums. The emphasis is on quality over quantity (a point many black metal bands fail to understand). One reason this release is so memorable and highly regarded is the fact that the songwriting is brilliant. All of the tracks flow seamlessly, and the riffs are repetitive to the point that you can't help but think that the music is simply a gateway into one's own visions and thoughts, and that the music simply acts as a catalyst, presenting possibilities and ideas to the mind.
“Det som en gang var” is the most ambitious and epic song in Burzum’s discography. It opens with a long, clean guitar intro layered with subtle keyboards that add texture without overpowering. Unlike a band like Emperor, where synths often dominate and serve as a crutch for atmosphere, here they simply accentuate the feeling of the music. The guitar work relies heavily on simple power chords and steady tremolo picking, creating a cold, hypnotic atmosphere. When the drums kick in, the pace is slow but deliberate, giving the song a heavy, immersive feel. The atmosphere is stark and despairing. Around the eight-minute mark, an immensely epic and melancholic tremolo melody cuts through like a blade of ice. The structure builds and breaks down carefully, with quiet passages that heighten the tension before leading into powerful climaxes. Grishnackh’s tormented screams are almost feral. The desperation in his voice as he cries out the song’s title, which translates to “What Once Was”, is one of the album’s most powerful moments.
“Hvis lyset tar oss” and “Inn i slottet fra droemmen” are more straightforward and feature a lot of repetition that has an almost hypnotic effect. The former keeps a steady pace with a very minimalist approach, using only subtle changes in the drumming and tremolo-picked riffs. It maintains a constant tension and creates a feeling of unease. The latter is more droning and feels like a journey through a desolate forest of overgrown paths and forgotten ruins. The rhythm section remains sparse but steady, supporting the trance-like guitar work. One is hardly given the chance to breathe until about halfway through, when the song slows down and the tension is finally released by the anguished screams of Count Grishnackh. From there, it transitions to a more mid-paced and epic riff that carries the song to its conclusion.
“Tomhet” is an ambient piece, similar to "Han som reiste", lasting around 14 minutes. It uses minimalistic synths and effects to create a vast, desolate soundscape. The tone is cold and empty, evoking feelings of isolation and despair without any traditional song structure or rhythm. This feels like a journey into pitch-black darkness, where there is no hope left and the burden of life becomes greater with each step. Near the end, the tone changes and is almost optimistic. But this suggestion of something better is only a lie, serving to deepen the misery. It serves as a fitting conclusion to the album, closing on a note of bleakness and emptiness.
Hvis lyset tar oss is a monumental record, one of the most important releases in the Norwegian black metal scene, and stands as a testament to Burzum’s vision and singular approach. Epic, atmospheric, and emotionally bleak, it’s been imitated countless times with little success. Absolutely essential listening.
(8 Sept. 2008)
Filosofem (1996)
After discovering the brilliance of the song "Black Spell of Destruction", so many years ago, I searched to find any Burzum album that I could. Back then, it was very difficult and the search took longer than I had anticipated. In the meantime, I managed to record my first Burzum song from the college radio show, The Haunted Mansion, that I regularly listened to. This song was titled "Burzum".
[Contrary to popular belief, this is the official title of the song, not "Dunkelheit" as many seem to think. I have no idea why the German translations were listed on the back, but this is obviously a mistake. There is not a single word of German spoken on this album, as the actual lyrics are in English and Norwegian.]
The word "Burzum" means "darkness" in the black speech of Mordor, a language created by J.R.R. Tolkien. This was the first song Varg ever composed and wrote lyrics for. Upon writing this song in the summer of 1991, he changed the name of the band from Uruk-Hai to Burzum. This song was initially intended to be included on an earlier album, but the recording was considered to be poor.
Filosofem was recorded in March 1993, in Breidablik Studio. The sound is more harsh and raw, especially the vocals. It has been said that Varg chose to use the worst possible mic for the recording, and it shows. I think this is the one major setback of this album, when compared to the others. For one reason or another, this seems to be the most popular and accepted Burzum album, yet I feel that the loss of such unique and powerful vocals is a detriment to the music. This was the last black metal album recorded by Burzum.
"Burzum" begins with Varg's trademark, sweeping guitar riffs and sparse drums. The sound is cold as ice and the song is mid-paced throughout. There are keyboards that are used sparingly, perfectly blending with the music. The vocals are heavily distorted and raspy, yet more decipherable than the earlier albums. The effect is more grim, but it loses something with regard to the emotion that was conveyed with the previous style. Very inhuman, to say the least. However, later in the song, he uses clean vocals for a spoken word part. The mood is very dismal and hopeless as the music plods along and the arpeggio riffs repeat, again and again. It seems almost trance-inducing.
"Jesu død" begins with fast tremolo-picked riffs but no drums. This continues to build up the suspense for a minute or so, as you know what is coming and become a little impatient. Absolutely brilliant harmonies used here. The raw production suits this song very well. The screeching vocals seem to take a place in the background, along with the drums, as this song is largely driven by the guitars. They are very distorted and abrasive, yet they require close attention in order to hear the different layers of melody. The fury unleashed by this song is truly unrelenting and Varg displays a great deal of stamina.
"Beholding the Daughters of the Firmament" is next, and the pace slows down from the previous song. This is very primitive and simplistic, yet creates a cold and sorrowful atmosphere. Again, I feel that the different vocal approach really holds this album back from achieving its true potential. As this song draws to a conclusion, the general consensus is that the album begins to lose something in consistency. I reject this view, but it may depend on what you are looking for when you listen to this album.
The next track is an atmospheric piece that abandons conventional song structures. "Decreptitude I" is very melancholic and imbues one with the sense of drowning in blood. Indeed, Varg sounds as if he is dying. As good as this is, I must wonder what it would sound like with his trademark screams. Either way, though most consider the album over after track three, I feel that this song is very essential to the overall atmosphere of the album.
"Rundtgåing av den transcendentale egenhetens støtte" is a 25 minute long ambient piece, very much the successor to "Tomhet", from Hvis lyset tar oss. It would seem that the masses lose interest by this point, or just can't digest such a lengthy song. Either way, it's their loss. This somber piece is actually very liberating in a sense, if you allow yourself to be taken away by the magic it creates. Along with "Tomhet", I played this song over and over as I was reading The Lord of the Rings and the two songs made a perfect soundtrack. It is odd how a piece of music that is so minimalist and simplistic seems to be lost on the most simple-minded listeners. Close inspection will reveal the melody from the song "Det som en gang var" reappearing here. It kind of gives the impression of remembering that classic song, but in a dream.
"Decreptitude II" ends the final album recorded by a free Varg Vikernes. This is, more or less, a very lengthy outro piece, as opposed to being an actual song. After a minute or so, fuzzy guitar riffs fade in to add to the bleak atmosphere being created, with the same melody from "Decreptitude I".
I've read where people complain that the second half of this album is hard to get into and tries the patience of the listener. In all honesty, I think these are the sentiments of simple-minded sheep that shouldn't be listening to the album (or black metal, as a whole) to begin with. The masses simply want instant gratification without having to invest any significant amount of time, energy or thought. That is why this music is so difficult for them; it challenges them to think, and that's what many people fear the most.
[Contrary to popular belief, this is the official title of the song, not "Dunkelheit" as many seem to think. I have no idea why the German translations were listed on the back, but this is obviously a mistake. There is not a single word of German spoken on this album, as the actual lyrics are in English and Norwegian.]
The word "Burzum" means "darkness" in the black speech of Mordor, a language created by J.R.R. Tolkien. This was the first song Varg ever composed and wrote lyrics for. Upon writing this song in the summer of 1991, he changed the name of the band from Uruk-Hai to Burzum. This song was initially intended to be included on an earlier album, but the recording was considered to be poor.
Filosofem was recorded in March 1993, in Breidablik Studio. The sound is more harsh and raw, especially the vocals. It has been said that Varg chose to use the worst possible mic for the recording, and it shows. I think this is the one major setback of this album, when compared to the others. For one reason or another, this seems to be the most popular and accepted Burzum album, yet I feel that the loss of such unique and powerful vocals is a detriment to the music. This was the last black metal album recorded by Burzum.
"Burzum" begins with Varg's trademark, sweeping guitar riffs and sparse drums. The sound is cold as ice and the song is mid-paced throughout. There are keyboards that are used sparingly, perfectly blending with the music. The vocals are heavily distorted and raspy, yet more decipherable than the earlier albums. The effect is more grim, but it loses something with regard to the emotion that was conveyed with the previous style. Very inhuman, to say the least. However, later in the song, he uses clean vocals for a spoken word part. The mood is very dismal and hopeless as the music plods along and the arpeggio riffs repeat, again and again. It seems almost trance-inducing.
"Jesu død" begins with fast tremolo-picked riffs but no drums. This continues to build up the suspense for a minute or so, as you know what is coming and become a little impatient. Absolutely brilliant harmonies used here. The raw production suits this song very well. The screeching vocals seem to take a place in the background, along with the drums, as this song is largely driven by the guitars. They are very distorted and abrasive, yet they require close attention in order to hear the different layers of melody. The fury unleashed by this song is truly unrelenting and Varg displays a great deal of stamina.
"Beholding the Daughters of the Firmament" is next, and the pace slows down from the previous song. This is very primitive and simplistic, yet creates a cold and sorrowful atmosphere. Again, I feel that the different vocal approach really holds this album back from achieving its true potential. As this song draws to a conclusion, the general consensus is that the album begins to lose something in consistency. I reject this view, but it may depend on what you are looking for when you listen to this album.
The next track is an atmospheric piece that abandons conventional song structures. "Decreptitude I" is very melancholic and imbues one with the sense of drowning in blood. Indeed, Varg sounds as if he is dying. As good as this is, I must wonder what it would sound like with his trademark screams. Either way, though most consider the album over after track three, I feel that this song is very essential to the overall atmosphere of the album.
"Rundtgåing av den transcendentale egenhetens støtte" is a 25 minute long ambient piece, very much the successor to "Tomhet", from Hvis lyset tar oss. It would seem that the masses lose interest by this point, or just can't digest such a lengthy song. Either way, it's their loss. This somber piece is actually very liberating in a sense, if you allow yourself to be taken away by the magic it creates. Along with "Tomhet", I played this song over and over as I was reading The Lord of the Rings and the two songs made a perfect soundtrack. It is odd how a piece of music that is so minimalist and simplistic seems to be lost on the most simple-minded listeners. Close inspection will reveal the melody from the song "Det som en gang var" reappearing here. It kind of gives the impression of remembering that classic song, but in a dream.
"Decreptitude II" ends the final album recorded by a free Varg Vikernes. This is, more or less, a very lengthy outro piece, as opposed to being an actual song. After a minute or so, fuzzy guitar riffs fade in to add to the bleak atmosphere being created, with the same melody from "Decreptitude I".
I've read where people complain that the second half of this album is hard to get into and tries the patience of the listener. In all honesty, I think these are the sentiments of simple-minded sheep that shouldn't be listening to the album (or black metal, as a whole) to begin with. The masses simply want instant gratification without having to invest any significant amount of time, energy or thought. That is why this music is so difficult for them; it challenges them to think, and that's what many people fear the most.
(9 Sept. 2008)
Belus (2010)
This has to be one of the most anticipated albums in recent memory, comparable to the feeling that preceded the release of the last Dissection album. However, unlike Jon Nödtveidt, Varg Vikernes was repeatedly denied parole, thus his incarceration dragged on. It seemed as if it would be endless. Then, last year, he was finally free. He had been speaking for the past few years, with regard to a new Burzum release, stating that it would most likely sound like Filosofem. Regardless of which album was preferred, most fans were relieved just to hear that he intended to return to the black metal sound of his early works. While Dauði Baldrs and Hliðskjálf certainly warrant attention, they simply weren't the same. And so, in the winter months, Varg returned to Grieghallen to record his first album in over a decade. For many of us, this had been a near-unbearable wait. For others that had only just discovered the band, there was still a great deal of interest. Could the album possibly live up to the expectations that everyone had for it? Some were ready to praise it, no matter what it sounded like, out of loyalty to Burzum. Others were prepared to lambaste it, before even hearing it, because they dislike Vikernes as a person. For better or worse, many had shifted their attention to Belus, released on 8 March.
The album begins with a pointless little intro that fails to prepare for what is to come. Afterward, "Belus' doed" begins with an eerily familiar melody. This first song is a reworking of the track "Dauði Baldrs", and Varg has done an incredible job of maintaining the dark feeling present in the original and adding so much more to it. The first thing to notice has to be the vocal performance. Many people seem to have a difficult time with the vocal style from the early albums, though I actually prefer that sound to anything else that he has done. Incredibly, Varg himself looks back on these previous performances with some amount of disappointment. At any rate, there was much speculation regarding how he would sound, all these years later. Thankfully, the extremely distorted style used on Filosofem does not return. The vocals are similar enough to the old albums that one can instantly tell who this is, but they are a little deeper and more controlled. With that said, the vocals are very powerful and filled with conviction, matching the dark atmosphere of the song. The brief spoken word parts also add another dimension, accentuating the dismal mood. The production is a bit fuzzy and definitely not overdone, though the digital recording removes the openness that was present on the early albums. This mid-paced track is dominated by brilliant tremolo melodies that play over somewhat thrashy rhythm guitars. The bass is audible, though seeming to follow the main theme. If certain elements of this album have to grow on the listener, through a few listens, this song is absolutely the exception to this. The melodies and vocals are haunting and they permeate your subconscious on the very first listen. You will hear the death of Belus in your dreams.
"Glemselens elv" is next, and the title translates to "The River of Forgetfulness". It begins with a tremolo riff alongside a loud bass line, before the drums and another guitar enter and carry the song forward. This is a nice way to build some tension and anticipation. As one would expect, this song is also rather mid-paced yet the tremolo melodies weave in and out of your mind, lulling you into a trance. At nearly twelve minutes, this is the longest song on the album and maybe the most hypnotic as well. The vocals feature a combination of harsh and clean, simultaneously, though the clean vocals are a bit lower in the mix. Everything about this screams Burzum, from the drumming patterns to the riffs, themselves. It's long been said that Varg has been one of the most copied musicians, ever, and yet no one has ever been able to recreate the magic in the same way. One can imitate the overall style, attempting to match the guitar tone or the vocal style, but not one single band has ever even come close. After about four minutes, the pace changes and another brilliant tremolo melody arises from the blackened depths. There's a refrain of clean vocals, used almost in a chant-like manner. The feeling is abysmally dark and dreary. A few minutes later, another soul-murdering riff emerges from the shadows and brings to the listener a slow death. On the first listen, this song was a bit difficult to sit through, as I was eager to get to the rest and hear what I'd waited for, for a decade. After repeated listens, the brilliance has unfolded, lured me in and enveloped all. It is also worth noting that, on this album, all of the lyrics are in Norwegian. In the past, of course, Varg utilized English as well, but it seems that he has rejected the use of the "international language".
The next song, "Kaimadalthas' nedstigning", starts out with great intensity. The riffs are fast and thrashy, though still repetitive and somewhat droning. This continues the trance-like feeling present on the previous track. The energy level has increased and the urgency found in the vocals adds to this. There are calmer moments, with a single line spoken in a grave and serious tone. There is nothing uplifting about this. The sombre atmosphere of darkness and dread is ever-present and the cold hand of doom stretches out from the shadows, reaching for you. As the song progresses, the pace slows down and the riffs possess a cold and dreary feeling. You can feel the empty black hole growing within. As the song concludes, one line is repeated again and again, in an eerie manner.
The next song possesses one of the best riffs of the entire album. "Keliohesten" slowly rises from the nothingness, and then unleashes a brilliant tremolo melody upon an already exhausted listener. The drumming is fast-paced, suiting the main riffs, and the vocals are lethal in execution. The lyrics tell a depressing story, as the snow melts and winter is fading away. The horrible summer spirits celebrate their triumph. The cold riffs convey a deep sorrow, or perhaps they bring this to the surface; that which already resides in the dark recesses of your spirit. By the middle of the song, there is a thrashy riff that only serves as a transition back to the cold and deathlike atmosphere of the main theme. Though the sound isn't very similar, the structure of this song is somewhat reminiscent of that found on Hvis lyset tar oss, to a small degree.
And, finally, the album reaches its end with "Belus' tilbakekomst (Konklusjon)", which is an instrumental that features very simplistic chords and riffs, yet it builds on the desolate feeling created by the previous song. It's very droning and repetitive, serving as the final journey into the endless graveland. Your corpse is dumped into the cold earth, forgotten and nameless, as your spirit is consumed by the great abyss of suffering and eternal torment. This isn't the end. This isn't the beginning of the end, yet the end of the beginning.
Belus may be the final death cry of the legendary Burzum, as Varg Vikernes may opt to disappear into obscurity. However, it may very well be a rebirth. While the overall feeling is undoubtedly Burzum, the sound is not identical to the classic albums. It seems, very much, like a time capsule from an earlier period and is about as close to the old output as any of the Norwegian bands are likely to get. Forget about the legions of bands that have attempted to imitate this style, over the years. Burzum has returned.
The album begins with a pointless little intro that fails to prepare for what is to come. Afterward, "Belus' doed" begins with an eerily familiar melody. This first song is a reworking of the track "Dauði Baldrs", and Varg has done an incredible job of maintaining the dark feeling present in the original and adding so much more to it. The first thing to notice has to be the vocal performance. Many people seem to have a difficult time with the vocal style from the early albums, though I actually prefer that sound to anything else that he has done. Incredibly, Varg himself looks back on these previous performances with some amount of disappointment. At any rate, there was much speculation regarding how he would sound, all these years later. Thankfully, the extremely distorted style used on Filosofem does not return. The vocals are similar enough to the old albums that one can instantly tell who this is, but they are a little deeper and more controlled. With that said, the vocals are very powerful and filled with conviction, matching the dark atmosphere of the song. The brief spoken word parts also add another dimension, accentuating the dismal mood. The production is a bit fuzzy and definitely not overdone, though the digital recording removes the openness that was present on the early albums. This mid-paced track is dominated by brilliant tremolo melodies that play over somewhat thrashy rhythm guitars. The bass is audible, though seeming to follow the main theme. If certain elements of this album have to grow on the listener, through a few listens, this song is absolutely the exception to this. The melodies and vocals are haunting and they permeate your subconscious on the very first listen. You will hear the death of Belus in your dreams.
"Glemselens elv" is next, and the title translates to "The River of Forgetfulness". It begins with a tremolo riff alongside a loud bass line, before the drums and another guitar enter and carry the song forward. This is a nice way to build some tension and anticipation. As one would expect, this song is also rather mid-paced yet the tremolo melodies weave in and out of your mind, lulling you into a trance. At nearly twelve minutes, this is the longest song on the album and maybe the most hypnotic as well. The vocals feature a combination of harsh and clean, simultaneously, though the clean vocals are a bit lower in the mix. Everything about this screams Burzum, from the drumming patterns to the riffs, themselves. It's long been said that Varg has been one of the most copied musicians, ever, and yet no one has ever been able to recreate the magic in the same way. One can imitate the overall style, attempting to match the guitar tone or the vocal style, but not one single band has ever even come close. After about four minutes, the pace changes and another brilliant tremolo melody arises from the blackened depths. There's a refrain of clean vocals, used almost in a chant-like manner. The feeling is abysmally dark and dreary. A few minutes later, another soul-murdering riff emerges from the shadows and brings to the listener a slow death. On the first listen, this song was a bit difficult to sit through, as I was eager to get to the rest and hear what I'd waited for, for a decade. After repeated listens, the brilliance has unfolded, lured me in and enveloped all. It is also worth noting that, on this album, all of the lyrics are in Norwegian. In the past, of course, Varg utilized English as well, but it seems that he has rejected the use of the "international language".
The next song, "Kaimadalthas' nedstigning", starts out with great intensity. The riffs are fast and thrashy, though still repetitive and somewhat droning. This continues the trance-like feeling present on the previous track. The energy level has increased and the urgency found in the vocals adds to this. There are calmer moments, with a single line spoken in a grave and serious tone. There is nothing uplifting about this. The sombre atmosphere of darkness and dread is ever-present and the cold hand of doom stretches out from the shadows, reaching for you. As the song progresses, the pace slows down and the riffs possess a cold and dreary feeling. You can feel the empty black hole growing within. As the song concludes, one line is repeated again and again, in an eerie manner.
"Jeg reiser til mørkets dyp der alt er dødt.""Sverddans", meaning sword dance, tells the tale of winter coming under attack from the foul and disgusting summer. This song has its origins in the pre-Burzum project, Uruk-Hai. Clocking in around two and a half minutes, this one is the shortest proper song on the album. Some seem to feel that it is out of place, though it appears to make perfect sense, regarding its placement. The album has built in intensity, over the course of the previous songs, reaching sort of a climax with this track. Similar to "War", from the debut album, this merely adds another dimension to the album and displays yet more versatility on the part of the musician.
The next song possesses one of the best riffs of the entire album. "Keliohesten" slowly rises from the nothingness, and then unleashes a brilliant tremolo melody upon an already exhausted listener. The drumming is fast-paced, suiting the main riffs, and the vocals are lethal in execution. The lyrics tell a depressing story, as the snow melts and winter is fading away. The horrible summer spirits celebrate their triumph. The cold riffs convey a deep sorrow, or perhaps they bring this to the surface; that which already resides in the dark recesses of your spirit. By the middle of the song, there is a thrashy riff that only serves as a transition back to the cold and deathlike atmosphere of the main theme. Though the sound isn't very similar, the structure of this song is somewhat reminiscent of that found on Hvis lyset tar oss, to a small degree.
"Når snøen smelter gråter vi,Just when you feel safe from the utter black and the freezing emptiness of absolute oblivion, "Morgenroede" comes to plague you with such a life-draining and hopeless feeling that death soon calls your name. The song marks the slowing of the overall pace of the album, as it now makes its funeral march toward the end of all things. There is a sense of urgency in the first riffs, then turned to emptiness and sorrow with the coming tremolo melody. The pulsing of the bass is almost like that of the heart beating for its final moments, pumping out the remaining blood and bringing on lifelessness. Nothing lasts forever. All that which one finds meaningful in this wretched world will succumb to decay and death, in one form or another. Just like the snow will melt and winter recedes, all hope will fade to nothingness and emptiness prevails. After a few minutes, the final words spoken on this album then give way to a new riff, one filled with utter despair. The drumming reminds of that found later in "Tomhet", yet the atmosphere here is similar in its desolate and miserable feeling. The riffs become very repetitive, building the sorrowful aura and draining you of any and all life. One sees through illusions of optimism and positivity. There is none. These things are not real. They never were. They are but creations of man, much like gods, to try to trick ourselves and to avoid facing the bleak and harsh reality that is existence. It is meaningless and empty. The melodies found in this song are like freezing knives, carving the listener more viciously than the subject of an autopsy. You are laid open and bathed in misery and the horrible truth of the world.
vinteren har blitt beseiret"
And, finally, the album reaches its end with "Belus' tilbakekomst (Konklusjon)", which is an instrumental that features very simplistic chords and riffs, yet it builds on the desolate feeling created by the previous song. It's very droning and repetitive, serving as the final journey into the endless graveland. Your corpse is dumped into the cold earth, forgotten and nameless, as your spirit is consumed by the great abyss of suffering and eternal torment. This isn't the end. This isn't the beginning of the end, yet the end of the beginning.
Belus may be the final death cry of the legendary Burzum, as Varg Vikernes may opt to disappear into obscurity. However, it may very well be a rebirth. While the overall feeling is undoubtedly Burzum, the sound is not identical to the classic albums. It seems, very much, like a time capsule from an earlier period and is about as close to the old output as any of the Norwegian bands are likely to get. Forget about the legions of bands that have attempted to imitate this style, over the years. Burzum has returned.
(23 March 2010)
Fallen (2011)
Fallen is the eighth studio album from the legendary Norwegian black metal band, Burzum. Recorded and mixed during two weeks at Grieghallen Studios, it comes just a year after Belus and somewhat continues the sound that was established on that album. Varg Vikernes returned to his old ways of being very productive, and it should be no surprise to those familiar with the classic Burzum albums since they were all recorded in a short span of time.
In the press release, it was stated that the new record would have more influence from the debut album and Det som engang var, though this does not seem to be the case. Fallen feels more experimental and less grounded in the classic Burzum formula. The increased use of clean vocals, especially in the spoken word sections, disrupts the flow of several tracks, and they rarely offer the same dark intensity that fans expect.
"Budstikken," however, is a rare highlight. The final song begins with somewhat of an epic build-up, with the mournful tremolo riffs accompanied by thunderous drums, before the song truly breaks free and moves forward at a faster pace. Somehow, this is slightly reminiscent of "My Journey to the Stars", and it is at this point where one can really feel the connection between new and old. The bass, which has been rather audible throughout the entire record, seems to stand out the most on this track, adding a layer of misery to the atmosphere. Strangely, this song is sorrowful while also being the most upbeat of the whole album. The clean vocals bring things back to a somber place, as the guitar riffs shift back to something darker and more life-draining. In a sense, the music gives the feeling of going off to war, to fight in a battle that you know will be lost, yet one that you must fight anyway. However, by the end, you simply wish for a cold grave to swallow your lifeless body and to be forgotten for eternity. The old ways are gone and the world is crumbling. All that we possess are fading memories of a dead age and the knowledge that what once was is forever lost. The roots of Irminsûl are rotten and dead. Existence is pointless and life itself seen as a curse.
The rest of the album, unfortunately, is largely forgettable. Tracks like "Jeg faller" and "Vanvidd" attempt to replicate the atmosphere of earlier works, but the overuse of clean vocals weakens their impact. Instead of the haunting, visceral experience that made Burzum iconic, Fallen often feels disconnected, as if the album is unsure whether to cling to the past or move forward into more experimental territory.
Ultimately, Fallen is a disappointing follow-up to Belus. While it shows Varg's continued creative energy, the album never quite reaches the heights of its predecessor. The only track that truly stands out is "Budstikken," while the rest of the material fails to leave a lasting impression. For those hoping for a return to Burzum’s darker roots, Fallen misses the mark.
In the press release, it was stated that the new record would have more influence from the debut album and Det som engang var, though this does not seem to be the case. Fallen feels more experimental and less grounded in the classic Burzum formula. The increased use of clean vocals, especially in the spoken word sections, disrupts the flow of several tracks, and they rarely offer the same dark intensity that fans expect.
"Budstikken," however, is a rare highlight. The final song begins with somewhat of an epic build-up, with the mournful tremolo riffs accompanied by thunderous drums, before the song truly breaks free and moves forward at a faster pace. Somehow, this is slightly reminiscent of "My Journey to the Stars", and it is at this point where one can really feel the connection between new and old. The bass, which has been rather audible throughout the entire record, seems to stand out the most on this track, adding a layer of misery to the atmosphere. Strangely, this song is sorrowful while also being the most upbeat of the whole album. The clean vocals bring things back to a somber place, as the guitar riffs shift back to something darker and more life-draining. In a sense, the music gives the feeling of going off to war, to fight in a battle that you know will be lost, yet one that you must fight anyway. However, by the end, you simply wish for a cold grave to swallow your lifeless body and to be forgotten for eternity. The old ways are gone and the world is crumbling. All that we possess are fading memories of a dead age and the knowledge that what once was is forever lost. The roots of Irminsûl are rotten and dead. Existence is pointless and life itself seen as a curse.
The rest of the album, unfortunately, is largely forgettable. Tracks like "Jeg faller" and "Vanvidd" attempt to replicate the atmosphere of earlier works, but the overuse of clean vocals weakens their impact. Instead of the haunting, visceral experience that made Burzum iconic, Fallen often feels disconnected, as if the album is unsure whether to cling to the past or move forward into more experimental territory.
Ultimately, Fallen is a disappointing follow-up to Belus. While it shows Varg's continued creative energy, the album never quite reaches the heights of its predecessor. The only track that truly stands out is "Budstikken," while the rest of the material fails to leave a lasting impression. For those hoping for a return to Burzum’s darker roots, Fallen misses the mark.
(12 March 2011)
From the Depths of Darkness (2011)
From the Depths of Darkness is not a new full-length Burzum album. It is a compilation of re-recorded tracks from the self-titled L.P. and Det som engang var. These represent Varg's favourite songs from those releases, and this effort is merely a reinterpretation of those early works. Of course, the decision to revisit this material has generated a considerable amount of controversy. Some people have labeled this as a cash-grab, while others are simply angry that the classic songs are going to be tampered with. Naturally, such powerful and influential music is going to elicit strong reactions from fans. In my view, there is nothing wrong with this release, in itself. The problem with re-recordings comes when an artist attempts to use them to replace the original material, thus robbing future generations of the opportunity to experience them as they once were. However, countless bands have gone back and revisited their early days by making updated versions of classic songs. Ultimately, it is the band's right to do whatever they wish, so long as the original music remains available, as well. That way, if people disagree with the latest interpretation, they are free to enjoy the original. In the case of Burzum, it would seem that Varg is a perfectionist and, rather than trying to give the music a modern feel, he just wanted to correct things that he felt to be mistakes and to present his songs as he meant for them to be heard, in the first place.
He has done this before. The Aske E.P. features a re-recording of "A Lost Forgotten Sad Spirit", since he thought the version from the debut album did not turn out as it was supposed to. It is quite likely that, had he not lost so much time in prison, Varg may have included more re-recorded songs on his albums, throughout the years. Given that he recorded the early Burzum albums at a young age and with little experience, he may have felt strongly about this material the entire time. It is both a gift and a curse of the perfectionist to find fault with everything that they create, eventually, whether or not they act on those urges. Released in November 2011, From the Depths of Darkness is the product of such impulses.
The material on this compilation remains true to the originals, as much as possible. The faster sections are hardly any different than before, though the slower parts are where one can see the most disparity between old and new. In general, the pace is slowed down even more and the atmosphere takes on an increased sense of dreariness and morbidity. Anything that was remotely catchy or upbeat has been completely neutralized and rendered even more cold and lifeless than before. This really gives the songs a darker vibe and unleashes the untapped potential that some of them had, long ago. While immersing yourself in something so abysmal and unforgiving, those lighter moments almost make it seem a little more safe. This time around, there is no sanctuary from the utter black that is set to consume your very soul. This is most evident on "Spell of Destruction". Predominantly, the playing is a little tighter, which is really neither good nor bad, as the previous approach suited the music just as well as this does. In other words, the somewhat sloppy feeling that was on the first couple of records, at times, worked just fine within the context of the album just as much as the tight sound benefits the newer versions. Everything is really crisp and precise, leaving no room for errors. That said, the music still has a lot of feeling and has not been drained of all emotion. Regarding actual changes, they are so minor and infrequent that it is not much of a concern, except in the case of "My Journey to the Stars". This track is butchered, to an extent, due to a handful of alterations that seem to make no sense. While the overall structure endures, there are enough small differences to kill the spirit of the song. There are times, especially during "Key to the Gate", where you can hear how much the old stuff inspired Varg as he was writing the material for Fallen. Actually, it was during the process of creating that record that he took a break and entered the studio to record these songs. Overall, the music stays true to the spirit of the originals, from the intense opening riffs of "Feeble Screams From Forests Unknown" to the hypnotic and mournful atmosphere that is present as "Snu mikrokosmos' tegn" reaches its conclusion.
Contrary to what many would expect, the production is not as plastic and modern as some seem to imagine. Obviously, it possesses a bit of an improved sound, compared to the originals, but it is not overdone in any way. The guitar tone is still frigid and morose, carrying the listener off to another world. In fact, the mix is slightly more appropriate in that the drums are buried a bit more and thus allow the guitars to remain the primary focus. This is how metal should be, anyway, but especially in this case.
One of the most glaring differences is found in the vocal department. To the grief and despair of many fans of the early Burzum records, Varg's voice is nowhere near what it was back then. Any hopes that he would return to the anguished screams and tormented shrieks of the past were shattered from the very beginning, though this should not have come as a surprise to anyone. Varg's voice is quite similar to what is heard on later albums, such as Belus and Fallen, and it is a shame that he has no fondness for his previous vocal style. It added so much more to the overall atmosphere and was one of the truly unique things about Burzum, in the first place. Perhaps, it also came from him no longer being able to get such a sound to emanate from within and choosing to change instead of offering up some pathetic attempt at recreating that sound. On the old albums, he sounded as if he was dying in agony, whereas his current voice sounds like it has been dead and bereft of life for quite some time.
A lot of fans will be disappointed in From the Depths of Darkness, since most people despise change and metal fans are usually even worse about this. Though the changes are minimal, with the exception of the vocals, the truth is that the original spirit of the songs has been honoured and there are even some points where the alterations of timing or pace actually improve upon the old versions. While the majority will still prefer the originals (myself included), this is a fascinating release and offers a unique re-interpretation of these songs that have meant so much to so many for such a long time. For those that disapprove, there is always the option of ignoring the existence of this compilation and continuing to listen to the old records. However, if you have even the slightest bit of an open mind, it is quite likely that you will find something enjoyable about these new versions. Out of all of the musicians that came from the Norwegian black metal scene, as much as he would like to distance himself from it, Varg Vikernes has remained true to his roots much more than the rest.
He has done this before. The Aske E.P. features a re-recording of "A Lost Forgotten Sad Spirit", since he thought the version from the debut album did not turn out as it was supposed to. It is quite likely that, had he not lost so much time in prison, Varg may have included more re-recorded songs on his albums, throughout the years. Given that he recorded the early Burzum albums at a young age and with little experience, he may have felt strongly about this material the entire time. It is both a gift and a curse of the perfectionist to find fault with everything that they create, eventually, whether or not they act on those urges. Released in November 2011, From the Depths of Darkness is the product of such impulses.
The material on this compilation remains true to the originals, as much as possible. The faster sections are hardly any different than before, though the slower parts are where one can see the most disparity between old and new. In general, the pace is slowed down even more and the atmosphere takes on an increased sense of dreariness and morbidity. Anything that was remotely catchy or upbeat has been completely neutralized and rendered even more cold and lifeless than before. This really gives the songs a darker vibe and unleashes the untapped potential that some of them had, long ago. While immersing yourself in something so abysmal and unforgiving, those lighter moments almost make it seem a little more safe. This time around, there is no sanctuary from the utter black that is set to consume your very soul. This is most evident on "Spell of Destruction". Predominantly, the playing is a little tighter, which is really neither good nor bad, as the previous approach suited the music just as well as this does. In other words, the somewhat sloppy feeling that was on the first couple of records, at times, worked just fine within the context of the album just as much as the tight sound benefits the newer versions. Everything is really crisp and precise, leaving no room for errors. That said, the music still has a lot of feeling and has not been drained of all emotion. Regarding actual changes, they are so minor and infrequent that it is not much of a concern, except in the case of "My Journey to the Stars". This track is butchered, to an extent, due to a handful of alterations that seem to make no sense. While the overall structure endures, there are enough small differences to kill the spirit of the song. There are times, especially during "Key to the Gate", where you can hear how much the old stuff inspired Varg as he was writing the material for Fallen. Actually, it was during the process of creating that record that he took a break and entered the studio to record these songs. Overall, the music stays true to the spirit of the originals, from the intense opening riffs of "Feeble Screams From Forests Unknown" to the hypnotic and mournful atmosphere that is present as "Snu mikrokosmos' tegn" reaches its conclusion.
Contrary to what many would expect, the production is not as plastic and modern as some seem to imagine. Obviously, it possesses a bit of an improved sound, compared to the originals, but it is not overdone in any way. The guitar tone is still frigid and morose, carrying the listener off to another world. In fact, the mix is slightly more appropriate in that the drums are buried a bit more and thus allow the guitars to remain the primary focus. This is how metal should be, anyway, but especially in this case.
One of the most glaring differences is found in the vocal department. To the grief and despair of many fans of the early Burzum records, Varg's voice is nowhere near what it was back then. Any hopes that he would return to the anguished screams and tormented shrieks of the past were shattered from the very beginning, though this should not have come as a surprise to anyone. Varg's voice is quite similar to what is heard on later albums, such as Belus and Fallen, and it is a shame that he has no fondness for his previous vocal style. It added so much more to the overall atmosphere and was one of the truly unique things about Burzum, in the first place. Perhaps, it also came from him no longer being able to get such a sound to emanate from within and choosing to change instead of offering up some pathetic attempt at recreating that sound. On the old albums, he sounded as if he was dying in agony, whereas his current voice sounds like it has been dead and bereft of life for quite some time.
A lot of fans will be disappointed in From the Depths of Darkness, since most people despise change and metal fans are usually even worse about this. Though the changes are minimal, with the exception of the vocals, the truth is that the original spirit of the songs has been honoured and there are even some points where the alterations of timing or pace actually improve upon the old versions. While the majority will still prefer the originals (myself included), this is a fascinating release and offers a unique re-interpretation of these songs that have meant so much to so many for such a long time. For those that disapprove, there is always the option of ignoring the existence of this compilation and continuing to listen to the old records. However, if you have even the slightest bit of an open mind, it is quite likely that you will find something enjoyable about these new versions. Out of all of the musicians that came from the Norwegian black metal scene, as much as he would like to distance himself from it, Varg Vikernes has remained true to his roots much more than the rest.
(25 Nov. 2011)
Umskiptar (2012)
Released in May 2012, Umskiptar is the ninth full-length album from Burzum. This record is somewhat unique within the discography of Varg Vikernes, and it is something that may take a little time for some to fully digest. Surely, this has very little connection to the realm of black metal that initially gave birth to this musical project. With that said, there is a clear line of evolution from the old to the new, as Umskiptar picks up from where Fallen left off and continues to develop further away from the old sound. All the while, the everything contained on this album is unquestionably identifiable as Burzum.
This album has been described by its creator as "skaldic metal", and the lyrics were taken from the Völuspá. Due to the nature of the lyrical content, it would be easy to assume that this represents sort of a loss of the personal touch that previously existed, but of course that discounts that it was still Varg who chose what elements of this poem to focus on. Musically, what we have here is a rather stripped-down record of down-tempo pieces that imbue the listener with feelings of sorrow and loss. There has always been a melancholic element found on Burzum albums and Umskiptar is no exception, though the approach is rather different. Though there are a handful of fast-picked riffs, that actual tempo as dictated by the percussion goes from mid-paced to a doom-like crawl. "Jóln" is probably the most active and dynamic track on here, despite being rather subdued by previous standards. There is nothing in the vein of "Feeble Screams from Forests Unknown", "Snu mikrokosmos tegn" or even "Keliohesten" on this record. In fact, as the album goes along, it seems to get slower and slower, with the guitar playing a less prominent role and fading into the background. The trio of "Alfadanz", "Hit helga Tré" and "Æra" represents the strongest and most conventional segment of the album and are comprised of moody and sombre guitar melodies that would not have been out of place on the last couple of releases. "Hit helga Tré", in particular, is built on primitive riffs with strong doom tendencies, featuring a haunting tremolo melody that flows throughout as Varg's almost corpse-like voice is infiltrated by moments of humanity. This may be the most memorable song on here. The experimentation continues, as later songs feature no harsh vocals at all, for the first time ever. Some of these are hit-and-miss. The vocals, especially, seem somewhat disconnected from the music. At some points, it feels like the music is just background noise for some spoken-word pieces."Heiðr" is a good example of this. That is not to say that all of the clean vocals are done in this manner. "Galgviðr" actually utilizes clean singing, not just speaking, throughout its entirety. Still, there are moments when one may wish for one of the trademark instrumental tracks from Burzum's past. "Surtr Sunnan", for one, sounds very reminiscent of the older material and would have been more enjoyable without any lyrics. Regardless of whatever complaints I may have with some elements of the album, everything still flows together very well and Umskiptar is rather cohesive and solid. The whole thing comes together, very well, in dragging the listener into another world. By the time "Gullaldr" arrives, you get the feeling that the life is slowly draining out of you. Unlike in the past, there is hardly any sense of suffering or anguish here. It almost puts you in a dreamlike state and the main feeling is one of relief, as the cold winds of death carry you away.
The production suits the music. Nothing about this sounds modern, really. The guitar is rather dominant in the mix, at least during the tracks that really highlight it as the most important instrument. Later in the album, it seems to fade a bit, though this is likely due to the nature of the compositions. Everything is rather clear, allowing for the various melodies to stand out and to be easily recognizable. The sound is certainly cleaner that even the previous album, which was not all that harsh by any stretch. One complaint would be that the vocals are a little too clear, at times, as even the moisture on Varg's tongue can be heard. This is quite distracting.
Umskiptar is certainly a unique album and it is one that many, myself included, may not immediately be able to wrap their head around. That would seem to directly contradict the claims of some that Varg only resurrected Burzum to cash in on its name value (if so, why would he stray from the tried and true formula of past albums to experiment so much, if not for artistic purposes?). For those that are interested in music on a deeper level, rather than seeking only instant gratification, this is surely worth the time to explore. Whether you want to consider this some sort of black, folk or skaldic metal (or something outside of metal, completely), one cannot argue that this is very genuine and atmospheric music that speaks to something inside of us in a way that words often fail to do. Though I would say "Hit helga Tré" and "Gullaldr" are the best songs on here, it is best for you to just immerse yourself into the whole album and see where it takes you.
This album has been described by its creator as "skaldic metal", and the lyrics were taken from the Völuspá. Due to the nature of the lyrical content, it would be easy to assume that this represents sort of a loss of the personal touch that previously existed, but of course that discounts that it was still Varg who chose what elements of this poem to focus on. Musically, what we have here is a rather stripped-down record of down-tempo pieces that imbue the listener with feelings of sorrow and loss. There has always been a melancholic element found on Burzum albums and Umskiptar is no exception, though the approach is rather different. Though there are a handful of fast-picked riffs, that actual tempo as dictated by the percussion goes from mid-paced to a doom-like crawl. "Jóln" is probably the most active and dynamic track on here, despite being rather subdued by previous standards. There is nothing in the vein of "Feeble Screams from Forests Unknown", "Snu mikrokosmos tegn" or even "Keliohesten" on this record. In fact, as the album goes along, it seems to get slower and slower, with the guitar playing a less prominent role and fading into the background. The trio of "Alfadanz", "Hit helga Tré" and "Æra" represents the strongest and most conventional segment of the album and are comprised of moody and sombre guitar melodies that would not have been out of place on the last couple of releases. "Hit helga Tré", in particular, is built on primitive riffs with strong doom tendencies, featuring a haunting tremolo melody that flows throughout as Varg's almost corpse-like voice is infiltrated by moments of humanity. This may be the most memorable song on here. The experimentation continues, as later songs feature no harsh vocals at all, for the first time ever. Some of these are hit-and-miss. The vocals, especially, seem somewhat disconnected from the music. At some points, it feels like the music is just background noise for some spoken-word pieces."Heiðr" is a good example of this. That is not to say that all of the clean vocals are done in this manner. "Galgviðr" actually utilizes clean singing, not just speaking, throughout its entirety. Still, there are moments when one may wish for one of the trademark instrumental tracks from Burzum's past. "Surtr Sunnan", for one, sounds very reminiscent of the older material and would have been more enjoyable without any lyrics. Regardless of whatever complaints I may have with some elements of the album, everything still flows together very well and Umskiptar is rather cohesive and solid. The whole thing comes together, very well, in dragging the listener into another world. By the time "Gullaldr" arrives, you get the feeling that the life is slowly draining out of you. Unlike in the past, there is hardly any sense of suffering or anguish here. It almost puts you in a dreamlike state and the main feeling is one of relief, as the cold winds of death carry you away.
The production suits the music. Nothing about this sounds modern, really. The guitar is rather dominant in the mix, at least during the tracks that really highlight it as the most important instrument. Later in the album, it seems to fade a bit, though this is likely due to the nature of the compositions. Everything is rather clear, allowing for the various melodies to stand out and to be easily recognizable. The sound is certainly cleaner that even the previous album, which was not all that harsh by any stretch. One complaint would be that the vocals are a little too clear, at times, as even the moisture on Varg's tongue can be heard. This is quite distracting.
Umskiptar is certainly a unique album and it is one that many, myself included, may not immediately be able to wrap their head around. That would seem to directly contradict the claims of some that Varg only resurrected Burzum to cash in on its name value (if so, why would he stray from the tried and true formula of past albums to experiment so much, if not for artistic purposes?). For those that are interested in music on a deeper level, rather than seeking only instant gratification, this is surely worth the time to explore. Whether you want to consider this some sort of black, folk or skaldic metal (or something outside of metal, completely), one cannot argue that this is very genuine and atmospheric music that speaks to something inside of us in a way that words often fail to do. Though I would say "Hit helga Tré" and "Gullaldr" are the best songs on here, it is best for you to just immerse yourself into the whole album and see where it takes you.
(17 Mar. 2013)
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