Aurvandil - Thrones (2013)

It's very much a shame I missed this one on release last December, it would have made for a pretty perfect kickoff to a steady winter season and almost seems out of place now that Spring is bursting forth in my neck of the woods. That said, if you've run across Aurvandil in the past, you know damn well what's at stake: a desolate, passionate experience which is best listened to in a state of solitude, preferably as far from the rest of your human surroundings as possible. Thrones isn't quite as impenetrably cold as its predecessor Yearning from 2011, but it's another substantial landscape of subtle, glorious details that won't fail to either lift or drown your spirit, dependent wholly on the reaction you typically observe for such a lonely, poignant sojourn.

This was originally a limited cassette, but has recently been released to wider digital distribution through Eisenwald Tonschmiede. Four compositions, each quite a bit longer than those on Yearning, a bit closer in corporeality to the 2010 EP Ferd. Bleak acoustics set the stage for tunes like "For Whom Burnest Thou", "Ingen Lindring" and "Summon the Storms", and though these guitars might not seem the most captivating in terms of their note construction, they flow really well, and give the listener the impression that a storm is about to strike, which of course what happens when the ruddy-cheeked, grainy electric guitars flow forth and initiate a dirty but majestic ascent into the eaves of distant highlands. Bathory and Immortal remain apt references, but how Aurvandil approaches his production sets him apart. It seems simultaneously lower in fidelity but really maintains a slight air of accessibility. Rhythm guitars power forth without searing into seemingly complex patterns, and there's always a patient, uplifting melody. Bass-lines are actually prevalent, though they usually follow the root notes of the higher-pitched guitars. One of the more distinct measures taken here is how his vocals sort of hover painfully astride the chords, rather than attempting to cut through them or subjugate...

This contributes heavily to the persistent airiness and forward, climbing momentum, even if it's hardly a show of prowess. Like Quorthon howling at you from the opposite side of a fjord or mountain, or like being carried directly on the wind of the raging strings. Though the preference is for faster material once the harder guitars enter a song, he does have some slower, rolling sequences like in "Summon the Storms" where the bass becomes this flood of warmth beneath the distortion. Granted, I wouldn't be opposed to hearing even more variety, but just that raw nature of the vocal and guitars allows for plenty of atmosphere to escape into, and once again I stress the seasonal spirit the music inspires, even if it's not so overwhelmingly frigid this time around. I enjoy this, and everything else I've heard by the guy, so if you're curious to hear a slightly different, windswept interpretation Scandinavian black metal circa the mid-90s that doesn't involve breaking out your copies of Blood Fire Death, Battles in the North or Vikinligr Veldi for the thousandth time, then this is well worth a try.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

Aurvandil - Yearning (2011)

Nothing can cure a summer heatwave quite like a purebred breath of Norse black metal hoarfrost, but in the case of Aurvandil, the rime tinted relief comes from the Upper Normandy region of France. For the past half decade, this has been an active artist with a number of demo recordings and split appearances which ultimately froze over to produce the Ferd EP in 2010, which I both reviewed and enjoyed. So, Yearning is the first actual full-length recording: a 56 minute foray into a wintry landscape devoid of the dregs of civilization, a methodic and meticulous celebration of disgust, and a solitary wanderer's trek to ascertain truth in the solitude of a wasteland; conceived over a span of years, and laid out right in the midst of the entrails of the summer of 2010.

Numerous of Aurvandil's countrymen carve out paths of innovation and progressive through the medium, with varied degrees of success, but this artist could be seen a natural antithesis to such values, predisposed instead to the Norwegian influence of second wave masters Burzum, Darkthrone, Immortal and Enslaved; back in their heydays before they, too, answered the summons of evolution and experimentation. This is not to say that Yearning feels 'generic', or lacks for variation. Aurvandil proves here that there is much journey yet to be had in the basic precepts of black metal. Loads of brooding and apocryphal acoustic sequences fleck the stark, gray and white scenery, not only in their own self-contained compositions like the prelude ("Yearning"), interlude ("Walking") and finale ("Reaching"), but also among the longer pieces, where surges of bleak velocity will oft succumb to calmer passages of reflection, or serve as brief bookends before and after the cold, distorted meats have manifest. Such techniques were also used on the Ferd EP, but I feel that they create a darker climate here.

As for the metal itself, Aurvandil is wise to never let the repetition run completely amok in the composition, a flaw found in many such recordings. Several of these tracks are excessive, with "I Summon Scorn", "Reign of Ice II" and "Gylfi's Journey" all clocking in over 9 minutes in length, and yet they feel a lot more vibrant and dynamic than several from Ferd. "I Summon Scorn" splices its tremulous, churning mid-paced velocity with broader, rock-like passages that draw the listener into ancient, frigid straits and fjords, while "Reign of Ice II" charges forth between segues of tranquil atmosphere and driven desperation. But some of my favorites come earlier on the track list, namely the potent swells of "End of an Age" with its resonant, airy bridge melodies and "A Guide to Northern Scapes", which features several shining, lush guitar lines that explode across its storming undercurrent of struggle and hostility.

Yearning also has a real sense of depth to it due to the distant, grimy vocals and various layers of guitar, not to mention the session drummer who helps place the full-length on a plateau beyond the glacial monotony occasionally gleaned upon Ferd. This is certainly a triumph for what the artists has set forth to achieve, dark as a winter evening, but clearly in awe of the natural, arctic panorama it celebrates, a swath of empty beauty upon which mankind's poisons are but a mere memory. However, I must say that in shorter bursts, the album is not entirely effective. You will want to clear an hour off your schedule to experience this (even more, if you're also interested in the cover of Burzum's "Jesu Død" smuggled in at the end). Give it enough time to roam its eagle haunted heights, snowy shores and heart of ice. Enough to witness your breath and spirit freeze into the forgotten footnotes of eternity.

Verdict: Win [8.25/10]

http://loomofthevoid.net/aurvandil/

Aurvandil - Ferd EP (2010)

Though I often stumble over the complexities of swollen vocabulary and glib tongue, I am at heart a simpleton. When I see a mountain crest shrouded in ice and snow adorning the cover of a black metal recording, then I expect the music to freeze my spirit to a fault. I say this with bearing to Aurvandil's Ferd EP, because this is a musician that knows and revels in cold. You might not hear it at first, because this is the cold of antiquity, basked in a glorious sunlight rather than a shadowed, leeching abyss, but the compositions here beat like the blue and white wintry heart of a frost titan, storming and significant and immortal.

The concept of this French artist is simple, and one we've all seen and heard before: a single musician, with a guitar and synthesizer, left only to the constraints of his own imagination. It's an equation I never seem to tire of, and perhaps one of the most honest and base expressions in music. The guitars are straight black metal that can trace its roots to the early annals of ravenous Norse veterans like Enslaved, Burzum, and Transilvanian Hunger era Darkthrone, but the subtle glints of melodies and synthesizers placed easily through the driving, straight razor rhythms feel like blankets of inevitable, virgin snow that alight upon your scalp from the torn, gray sky. "Over the Seven Mountains" and "Still He Walks" are the two tracks in particular that I enjoyed, easily filling out their 9 and 10 minute respective lengths with blazing egress as they stir the sleets of the past, each endowed with harrying blast beat segments and shifts into a slower, driven majesty.

The "Peregrination" bookends to this EP are also interesting, the first a lengthy folk guitar diatribe that gradually mesmerizes the listener before exploding, the latter cutting more swiftly to the glacial crash of its gleaming, desperate electric melodies. The central track, "Through Hordanes Land", was probably my least favorite of the five, though comparable in tone. I enjoyed the string intro and a handful of the riffs, but some of the repetition lost me as I was treading its depths. Otherwise, I have very few complaints about what I'm hearing. The beat programming might throw a few listeners off, but I've become incredibly acclimated to its sheer, hostile shadowing. Aurvandil promises nothing more or less than an icy excursion into myth, and if you've an inkling for early 90s authenticity in your black metal, Ferd is as vaunted and frigid as you are like to find in the underground, or anywhere for that matter.

Verdict: Win [7.75/10]

http://eisenton.de/