Til Det Bergens Skygenne - Vandringen II (Lynnelandskap) (2014)

Far from the rustic scenery of its predecessor, Vandringen I: Skoglandskap, released in 2012, the latest Til Det Bergens Skygenne cassette released through Voldsom promises little but nihilisim: a gray, impenetrable haze staring at the listener who happens upon the cover image. So I was entirely taken aback when I started listening through this, because while it's far from a bright bout of sunshine, it's not nearly so bleak and dark as I had guessed. The material is certainly a departure from the Til Det Bergens Skygenne tapes before it, which were a naturalistic infusion of woodland ambient and dungeon synth in the vein of cult recordings from Mortiis, etc. Here Lord Vravenorn has offered us a less structured, more psychedelically intimate fusion of ambient minimalism, lo-fi beats and synthesizer lines which hearken more to his old synth influences...for instance you might hear some Tangerine Dream, but he's not exactly implementing the same pads, with a fraction of the rigid mechanical structure of Kraftwerk.

Previous recordings, while simplistic, were very consistent and felt a little more prepared than the material on this, which really feels as if he set up a few aesthetic parameters and began to unwind, layering in the varied synth textures to create something a little more alien. This was not unlike the parallel development of another of his projects, Yearner, although I feel like The Second Howl was a much more frightening and unusual effort, while this is honestly pretty smooth in parts. The three tracks create an overarching ebb and flow of psychedelia pointing straight at the 70s, a decade in which the keyboard was being developed with so many new tones; with the caveat that some of the grimier indulgent tones, beats and ambient swells were not in fashion during that time, and these tunes (like "Part III") definitely have a tendency to simmer into a climactic point. Fuse that sort of nostalgic miasma with colorful, spacey imagery kind of like you'd find as the backdrop to various antiquated science fiction shows and you'll find the appropriate headspace from which you can properly appreciate the hallucinatory terrain Vranevorn is digging through.

For much of the playtime, I felt as if I was floating weightless through some strange Limbo where the weird tones and melodies created a sense of serenity that was occasionally being marred by the more obnoxious little sounds that occasionally present themselves. The synth lines often feel playful or communicating with one another. The stark, sparse interruptions feel like astral garbage scows sifting through the puffy, purple emptiness for emotional salvage. But this is my own hyperbolic reaction to the stuff...you may feel as if you're watching a patch of multi-hued mushrooms bloom, or in some forgotten underground space where you're watching fluorescent slow motion waterfalls. It does occasionally have its moments of gloomier atmosphere, generally when the keys are more minimal and deeper tones ring off into the emotional void, but in general I found this to be really consistent, trippy material which is not at all an unwelcome shift from the canon predating it.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

http://voldsomtapes.bandcamp.com/album/vandringen-ii-lynnelandskap

Til Det Bergens Skyggene - Vandringen I: Skoglandskap (2012)

The real joy in the fourth demo of German ambient project Til Det Bergens Skyggene is just how it manages to capture and contrast its rustic, naturalist squalor through the use of what many consider to be the most synthetic of mediums: the synthesizer itself. At heart a conceptual piece, Vandringen I: Skoglandskap del I-IV ('Forest landscape part I-IV) is a beautiful sojourn from the confinements of civilization to both the ceiling and floor of the untouched wilderness, and my favorite thus far from this particular composer.

Where in the past Lord Vranevorn has used strings to complement the keys, he sticks here to a coherent kennel of sounds to provide both elegance and an oft central, throbbing rhythm. As a flawed human being given to my inbred stereotypes and predefined dispositions, I won't lie that the pads implemented often gave me the impression of drifting solitaire through time and space, engaged in the bright chemical and physical reactions surrounding me. Call it the consummate, hopeful futurist within me, or the Tangerine Dream addict, but it did take me several plays to approximate the melodies and scintillating, sorrowful backdrop to the rural landscape of the creator's vision.

But eventually, I did just that, and an entire new realm of possibility was opened to me. For example, in the opening track "I", I soon equated the pulse and flow of the central synthesized woodwind-like sound to a scurrilous creature seeking its sustenance in some low undergrowth. The resonant, brooding backing tone in "II" reminded me of a river's course through the wilds, the shorter, plucking keys like the ripples upon its surface, and the lead sequence a wheeling bird seeking out insects who skitter across its current. The delightful, alternating melodies of "III" are perhaps the most alluring and beautiful of the album, leaves gently swaying through the air as the light filters the forest canopy. "IV", which is the darkest in mood of the quartet, is almost an onrush of shadow and night, but nonetheless wondrous, full of enigmatic glitterings.

What's more, the pieces flow with precisely the appropriate duration, from 4-8 minutes, never once exceeding their welcome to swell into obsessive white whales of monotony. Unlike many ambient composers who seem to hit 'record' at random, dump a load of improvisation onto a sound file and then expect you to chew it up, Vranevorn clearly has the course of his music plotted out, with lush gradations that offer new, and not entirely predictable shivers and epiphany. In the past, I've drawn comparisons to Burzum's ambient works, Vinterriket or other metal related artists who have explored the minimalist/soundscape sector (in addition to the obvious pioneers from the 70s and 80s), but here I feel like Til Det Bergens Skyggene is really starting to come into its own: catchier, structured and fully capable of the transportation and transformation required for its listener's immersion.

A pity, and truly a pity, that the appeal of such a work as this is isolated to such a small niche of genre devotees and open minded seekers of obscurity. Vranevorn's demos are not in mass rotation, but I highly recommend that the interested party seek out the Voldsom site and get in touch to experience this. Don't expect a space age, over-tracked, high budget 'chill out' session of techno lite here, but the most honest interpretations of picaresque wilderness directly into emotion stirring sound. Nothing is arbitrary. Nothing lacks a sense of 'belonging'. As such, Til Det Bergens Skyggene continues to grow as an institution, and I can only imagine what will follow...

Verdict: Win [8.75/10]

http://www.voldsom.net/

Til Det Bergens Skyggene - Renhet II (2011)

This is the third demo and the latter half of the Renhet ('Purity') project delivered through the thoughts of German Lord Vranevorn, known here as Til Det Bergens Skyggene. Like his countryman Christoph 'Vinterriket' Ziegler, but not necessarily so bleak, Vranevorn has the rare ability to conjure up the most striking and poignant pieces of music with naught more than a synthesizer and his imagination. That's not to say that he sticks with just one instrument, because you'll hear both pianos and acoustic guitars captured in the ice here alongside the broader strings, but this is truly the sort of recording one can complete with no deadline, no external pressure in one's own personal space, with no need to involve extraneous musicians or influences.

I want to say that the four compositions chosen for this are even more oblique and sorrow-spun than Renhet I. The predator/prey aesthetic that was woven through the five tracks there seems to subside here for a more contemplative, spacious nightmare of sounds. The recording is about the same length (27-28 minutes), with only four tracks, each of which submerges the listener into a chasm of brooding variation and rustic beauty, and each of which is slightly longer than those of its former half. "Her, i det dunkle hjemmet (Here, in the dark homeland)" begins this adventure with an eloquent, almost medieval duet of strings that seem to hover within the margin of cold, coniferous woodland and rural winter dwellings, grasping from shadows with its dire and cautionary melodies. "Månevandring (Gjennom Primitiv Uhygge)" or 'Moonlike (Through primitive eeriness...)' uses low, steady tribal percussion and chimes to really flesh out its namesake, gradually adding dark strings as it mutes into a dreary but majestic overture.

Next to these, the pulsing, ominous organs of "Vin, fyr og urgamle rus (Wine, fire and ancient intoxication)" seem positively space-age, but this is perhaps the most enthralling piece on this album, especially when that mouth-harp like 'boing' arrives over its choir of dark, angelics and sparse, spoken word. I can totally envision myself sitting in a cavern, my back to the cold stone walls, front to the firelight as I conjecture drunkenly upon my place in the universe, and so the piece appears to be working as intended? The closer, "Der i det ukjente fjerna (There, in the unknown distance)" seems similar to the first on this recording, with a mildly different selection of notes, and for that reason, it's perhaps the least compelling of Renhet as a whole, but still solemn, solitary and unnerving enough to fit with its neighbors.

I certainly enjoy the variety this artist wrings out of his instruments, and the impressive scope of subject matter, both physical and metaphysical to which Vranevorn commits this aural study. It might not have a mainstream appeal, of course, and much of humanity would seem incapable of submersing itself in anything deeper than Annie Lennox or Radiohead, but that only serves to increase its values of isolation and obscurity. Fans of Vinterriket, early Mortiis, or the non metal recordings of Burzum would see the natural target for these creations, but really anyone into darker New Age or ambient recordings would be hard-pressed to resist the allure.

Verdict: Win [7.75/10]

http://www.voldsom.net/

Til Det Bergens Skyggene - Renhet I (2011)

Renhet I is the first of two recordings German ambient artist Til Det Bergens Skyggene has created as successor to his s/t demo from earlier in the year. Unlike Til Det Bergens Skyggene itself, the Renhet saga is not being issued through the Lord Vranevorn's Voldsom imprint, but produced in an even more limited quantity which he will distribute directly. I must count myself lucky to receive such things, because Renhet continues to entwine the project's edge of utter gloom with plucky and unexpected melodies that grant it a broader emotional depth than one might predict from its grim, natural surface. And, really, I must count myself lucky in that I just don't hear enough of this sort of project, at least not of this quality. Til Det Bergens Skygenne carries all of the rare charm of Burzum's underrated midi work Daudi Bauldrs, or those earlier Mortiis titles before that Norse troll became an electrophile and begun to hang out within the Gothic/fetish element.

Yes, Renhat I is dark, but also strangely alluring and uplifting as it shifts through its 27 minute landscape of varied textures, strings and orchestrations provided through the simple sampling of a keyboard. For some, such a work might seem an aesthetic turnoff, since it doesn't feature the acoustic orchestration of bigger names in the ambient or film score scenes, but personally I do admire the authenticity of one individual sitting at a single instrument, not to mention the most plausibly variable single instrument, and bearing the shades of his or her soul directly to tape. And, like it's predecessor, Renhet I achieves this admirably, first with the arching grandeur of the solemn "Om det rene... (Of purity...)" and its sweeping, mountainside atmosphere; then with a decidedly more quirky piece in "Rovjakt (Preyhunt)", which flirts with both its namesake scent of blood in the most dalliant, marching fashion. Odd string-like synthesizer lines are strung across an almost playful, lower piano backdrop, and the bridge uses its melodic percussion almost like a xylophone of blood droplets in the snow.

It's quite impressive how a piece like that one can create a contrast of playfulness and terror, but this is then abated by the next piece, a deepening, dark acoustic beauty known as "Når Dagen Går (When the day dies away)" which is also the most compelling piece I've yet heard from this project. "Åtsel Og Skogbryn (Carrion and the edge of the forest...)" returns to the morbid toil and trail music of "Royjakt", but with a more brooding palette, almost as if the hunt was nearing its climax and the predator's fangs were about to sink into the victim. Yet this too throws us for a loop with its elegant, almost lounge-worthy bridge. For the closer, "Om det hevede... (Of augustness...), Lord Vranevorn returns to the sweeping, almost panoramic view of the wild that was created by the opener, and it's a fitting finale to a journey that enveloped both the great and small perspectives of the struggles inherent to an untouched, natural world.

Needless to say, with its strong conceptual bearing, I found Renhet I to be superior to the s/t in its captive qualities, and delighted by how it manages to grasp the listener into its shadowy, carnal truths while never abandoning the swath of sunlight that strikes each day through the canopy of the treeline to the forest floor. If I had a complaint, it's just that more people need to hear this! More need to listen to this sort of un-trampled soil of the imagination. Clearly, there are precedents to such a recording, but the authentic range of cold and bloodied emotions here is unshakable and incurable. I couldn't wait to tackle the second half.

Verdict: Win [8.25/10]

http://www.voldsom.net/

Til Det Bergens Skyggene - s/t (2011)

The second release for the young Voldsom imprint (the first being a CD reissue of Finnish Norns' In Fog They Appear demo), Til Det Bergens Skyggene is an evocative ambient piece created by the label's proprietor, Lord Vranevorn. Seeking to spiritually emulate the works of Norse and Germanic enthusiasts in the field, namely that of black metal artists circa Ildjarn, Burzum, (early) Mortiis, Vinterriket, or Neptune Towers, he's actually managed to strike out further, to a distinct balance of both the longing, solitary atmospheres of fell natural visions in the North, and the future gleaning wonders that were once manifest in magnificent 80s synthesizer works of Vangelis and Tangerine Dream. 37 minutes of sheer escapism captured on professional cassette, hand numbered to about 100 copies, this is something you'll probably want to get your hands on promptly, or at least beg Voldsom to make more copies available in this or another format.

I was quite taken aback here by the equal parts eloquence and darkness that are manifest in the five compositions of this demo. Certain mental predispositions about the bleak arboreal reflection of the cover image led me to believe this would be a work of desolation. Of isolation. But there's quite a knack for melody ingrained in the organ, string and flute pads being utilized here, and each of the tracks bleeds the heart of its repetition into a breathtaking transition that is often a surprise. Examples would include the eerie "Skog, natt og stjerner (forest, night and stars)", in which the morose backdrop is grafted with perkier, uplifting melodies, and a subtle beat inserted as precisely the right moment to conjure a lavish momentum. "Opphans stillhelt", through which a dark repetition strums against a carnival melody, almost as if the soundtrack for some archaic, brooding silent film. Or the true centerpiece of the recording: the epic "Min tid har kommet (my time has come)", with its bright and expansive waves of dominant keys that collapse into a subtle, almost tribal undercurrent of sparse percussion, and then an extensive stretch of dire madness, only to return to the inevitable grace of the opening sequence.

You get lost in Til Det Bergens Skyggene. The imagination soars, from the tower like stride of the title track to the periods of somnolent, forgotten glades and gulfs. Like much of the better ambient work, mere clues are given to each track's inspiration: the rest is left to the emotions of the listener to fill in. The simplified and repressed production of the cassette format serves only to enhance its sense of distance and obscurity, though I get the impression that Vranevorn's compositions would be well suited to the clean acoustics of an orchestra just as well as the sole keyboard architect. For an initial demo, this is well written and attuned to both a background experience in the wilderness, or a direct absorption by flickering, fading candlelight.

Verdict: Win [8/10]

http://www.voldsom.net/