If ever there were a band who seemed to have a goal of bewildering their fans it is Ulver. Growing up within the realms of the Norwegian black metal wilderness of the mid 90’s we always thought there was something odd about them, the marriage of evocative black folk of their first couple of albums burst into the fierce “fuck you” assault of the wondrous ‘Nattens Madrigal’ and then things changed even more with the poetic touch of their avant-garde treatise to Blake. It all seemed to make sense at the time and we grasped everything they threw at us, embracing the soundtrack to Perdition City, the greatest film score for a film that never was and ever forward into the real movies of Lyckantropen and Svidd Neger (a film I really must see). After this though Kristoffer Rygg and the ever changing renegade musos around him metamorphosed further with a preponderance to laptop tomfoolery taking over and creating other textures to their sounds that if anything harked back to the earlier days of rock and roll and classicist themes. ‘Blood Inside’ evoked harmonies that were comparable to the likes of The Beach Boys if anything amongst the gorgeous lush cinnamon scents of songs like Christmas. ‘Shadows Of The Sun’ was so insular and indeed mellow it had the scope to send its audiences to sleep with a vibe of early Sabbath and Floyd and their most gentle. From there the group started performing live and sticking very much within the more recent domain and we wondered what could possibly come next. Those of us attending the most recent show in London (which you will find reviewed on these pages) got a taster but it was one that was very difficult to take in on one sitting, as it must be said is the album itself. So what is it like? Honestly after repeated listens I’m still not quite sure!
Thematically we are told the work explores “the human condition and the world in fall.” There is little to deny that the world is falling and that the human condition is either failing or being overtaken by greed. Ulver means wolf and men are wolves or prey but the “personal vulnerability” reflected on in the past has apparently been sidestepped and here “the landscape is viewed from a bird's eye perspective, exposing culture and tradition.” But what of the music you ask, what indeed?
Track titles are just as obtuse and we start at ‘February MMX’ and are quickly into a soothing flow bolstered by Riggs harmonious voice. Things rise to peaks and an exuberance far greater than anything heard on the previous album, keyboards sparkle in the background and the drums hit solidly and drive the music although not for long and the song settles into its melody adding a dash of 70s sounding keyboard and a swagger here and there before we move on to the delightfully entitled ‘Norwegian Gothic.’ Some songs seem very short this one is just over 3 ½ minutes and we are caressed by soothing woodwind and the poetic lyrical flow telling a tale but one that is interrupted by meandering instrumentation sparsely fragmented and doing very little. There is not much substance here at times and it feels more like an orchestra tuning up than actually playing anything more composed. Lilting piano sees in second longest track ‘Providence’ and some female vocals add to harmony which is richly defined. As things define the music freefalls into avant-jazz and we could even be dropped into William Borroughs Interzone as defined by the soundtrack of Cronenberg’s ‘Naked Lunch,’ I get that sort of feel from it. Any rational thought on this album is certainly destroyed. Are there any actual songs with linear approach to song-writing? ‘September IV’ hints as such and is the radio play number I guess. There’s a carefree pop feel to it hinting towards the 70s it even sounds as though there’s a bit of sitar and the keys take on a retro Hammond sort of sound as bells clank and things go incense heady and heavy. It has by now flown off on a tangent and goes into psychedelic harmonies that move it away from normal structures and into progressive rock territory.
Perhaps the band like what they have seen here, as we have two numbers next entitled ‘England’ and ‘Island’ and yes I did too wonder about the historical relevance of the album title which I have not seen explained. The former is dark with a brooding electronic undercurrent rising to mountainous vocal clamour (Rigg can croon like no other) and bristling away as it gets beneath the skin. The latter again more abstract and insular with ponderous lyrics and organic sounding instrumentation not quite sounding sure what it wants to do with itself but dreamily enthused with the sounds of seagulls leaving the listener in a warm floating place . Finally we have ‘Stone Angels’ which is almost 15 minutes of woodwind and ambience etched with Daniel O' Sullivan’s narration from American poet Keith Waldrop. Is it pretentious? Does it remind of the Beat Poets of the 60s? Is it a work more likely to appeal to the hipster and the casual Guardian reader who has stumbled on it due to an article in the paper? Well that is for you to determine really. I again have to laugh and think of the Dr Who episodes featuring Stone Angels as I did live; the line “Pure spirit, saith the Angelic Doctor. But not these angels: pure visibility, hovering, lifting horror into the day, to cancel and preserve it,” driving the notion home.
On reviewing this album (the length of review surprising myself) I have certainly learned to appreciate it more. I am still not sold but can only acknowledge Ulver for what they are, a law unto themselves and one of the more interesting musical worlds that touches on the fringes of metal even if they have long since stopped dwelling in its folds.
http://www.jester-records.com/ulver
http://www.kscopemusic.com/ulver/warsoftheroses
