It’s been a pretty dark year. The ones following this one don’t promise to be a whole lot better unless you’re swimming in goddamn money. As the year reaches its final month, a lot of people are suffering amid the onslaught of manufactured joy as the holidays approach, deepening the hurt in so many hearts. Yet, we push into the future.
“Liminal Animals” is the 13th album from the legendary Ulver, a band that began creating three timeless black metal classics before transforming over the years into an electronics-driven, synth rock band, creating music just as compelling as their original material. Over the years, the band hasn’t shied away from exploring the darkest, seamiest aspects of our world, and they have the same bile in their mouths over our thorny present as our potentially stormy future. But there’s more at stake here as the band also mourns longtime member Tore Ylvisaker, who passed in August. His death haunted Ulver’s members, quite understandably, and this record is dedicated to him. The band’s main triumvirate remains vocalist/lyricist Kristoffer Rygg, multi-instrumentalist/electronics Ole Alexander Halstensgård, and lyricist Jørn H. Sværen, and they are joined by Stian Westerhus (guitar, bass, strings and backing vocals), Ivar Thormodsæter (drums), and Anders Møller (percussion and choir) to flesh out these songs that burst with murk and danger, the music creating visions in your mind.
“Ghost Entry” enters amid keys glowing, the feel of urban grime at your fingertips, Rygg calling, “Our days are numbered, and so are words.” The fog picks up as the track manages to get catchier and more foreboding, heading out into the dark. “A City in the Skies” glides in on slick synth, pulsing playing, and a gloomy jolt that parts clouds. The chorus stands out here, Rygg singing, “What are they thinking of? What is going on?” a sentiment that can applied to so many parts of the world right now. Later, Rygg warns, “Icons will fall once and for all,” itself a weirdly prophetic line, and the sentiments finally burn off. “Forgive Us” features Nils Petter Molvær on trumpet, his presence an even darker line in the blackout. Cold keys flow as moodiness thickens, Rygg summoning, “Spirit of the sky, spirit of the earth.” The brass adds jazzy steam as the heat spreads quickly, weird, warped calls wrap themselves around you, and the exhaust finally subsides. “Nocturne #1” is the first of two instrumentals, this dawning with whirring keys, a thickening cloud coverage, and gray skies turning black. Cosmic blips leave ice on your appendages, the playing feeling alien and isolated, the strangeness fading into oblivion. “Locusts” brings percussive rhythm, driving keys, and deeper singing. “There’s something in the air,” Rygg warns, later wondering, “Can you feel it?” over the chorus. Keys pump and the light is removed, ending in solemnity.
“Hollywood Babylon” is particularly pointed and sobering, something aimed directly at America, a country due some comeuppance. The keys taunt as Rygg’s voice takes on the proper sinister tone, calling, “Protect yourself, don’t fuck with America.” That’s not a line that should bring pride, the cocking gun sounds making that more apparent. The guitars heat up and pick at fresh scabs, everything ending in a fitting confrontational note. “The Red Light” has beats charging, keys buzzing, and unsettling tones taking shape. Danger lurks as Rygg urges, “Just try to stay alive,” as guitars churn, the mood darkens, and keys glaze before a final numbing. “Nocturne #2” is the second of the instrumental tracks, building into something a little pricklier, synth taking on spacious cosmic vibes, percussive quaking making the ground move. Sounds rattle in your ears and mind, immersive keys bring a post-apocalyptic sci-fi tone, and everything turns to a shade of red similar to what’s on the cover. Closer “Helian” is the final eulogy for their fallen friend, featuring Sværen reciting the Georg Trakl poem of the same name. The track starts as a strange symphony of synth, loops, and beats, an immersive and vulnerable piece that honors Ylvisaker and develops a mysterious ambiance for us all to consider our place in the universe. As the track nears its end, horns call out, nighttime chills work down your spine, and a smattering of beats close this dark chapter of Ulver lore.
“Liminal Animals” is another logical progression for Ulver but also a reaches a hand back in time for sounds and colors that formed their past. Mourning a friend and lamenting a world that seems to fall deeper into madness with each passing year, Ulver connect with loss, fear, anger, and vulnerability in such an elegant manner, it’s hard to find ways to fully summarize everything into words. This is music for late at night, contemplating our lives, paying tribute to those who have passed, and hardening our shells for our futures.
For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/ulverofficial/
To buy the album (U.S.), go here: https://houseofmythology.indiemerch.com/pre-orders
Or here (U.K.): https://store.houseofmythology.com/
Or here (E.U.): https://en.houseofmythology.spkr.media/
For more on the label, go here: https://www.houseofmythology.com/
Meat Mead Metal 