Myrkur
Folkesange

It's tough on a Friday night after work, when at the bar counter referred to, the average male boasts of screwing the entire universe, shouting and spitting drops of Campari and Prosecco while claiming he rules at home and that the kids adore their dad. When the said National Geographic specimen then listens to "extreme" Metal, the toughest, purest, and most badass group from the underground is served, an attitude that makes Astaroth seem like the Saint Jerome of the moment, with blood (genuinely real) flowing and disdain for money as well as any form of mainstream success.

Selling out to the music business?

Never!

The real machomantruzzoblacksatanicfrozenthundergoatblaze would rather sacrifice his mother (or better yet, his beloved wife) to Ariman and Barbara D’Urso together! The aforementioned real man, because you must inevitably be a man, spits on any product that doesn't fit these "1987-1994" schemes; everything outside the canon isn't worth a damn, it's fake and reeks of a mockery (a holy and inviolable orifice). Last but not least, if there's a woman behind a project, heavens open up! If she's not attractive, perhaps: "she might have hidden talents but is just aiming for success," but if, unfortunately, she is particularly captivating and, let's face it, beautiful, then: "it's quite obvious why she got there."

There you have it. A necessary premise that then occupies almost the entire review, why? Simply because certain regurgitations never fade and because a good part of the Myrkur issue revolves around such age-old prejudices like a documentary on the courtship methods of Asian peacocks, let's not hide it. Amalie Bruun is talented, she has skill, her musical and vocal exploration is well above the average of the genre, Garm is no fool and clearly saw the potential of the excellent Danish artist, and I personally thank him for producing this project. If I loved the debut, with that blend of ferocious "Black" vocals and sweet vocal and instrumental arpeggios worthy of the best Nordic-rooted Folk, I then literally adored "Mareridt," where the witch stuns us with ferocity for a short while, only to decide to enchant us with the dark light of transforming ancestral hymns into contemporary songs. As she does in this "Folkesange," do you really want to know what it's like? Well, it's splendid, Black Metal, which has never been part of Bruun's career except for the occasional use of scream and her personal attitude towards privately loving the genre, is certainly not brought into play here; on the contrary, no feral screams cut the atmosphere this time, everything is damnably and luminously Folk. The voice is sweet, inspired, sharp, light, and sharp, in one word: enchanting. The lyrics are in the native language (except for one, concerning the Tree of Life) and the suggestions of Wardruna are right in front of us, though this time the bard is a true Norna, not our good Selvik! The cover is from a painting by Hans Dahl, and the girl in traditional clothing, immersed in the canonical Scandinavian rural landscape, makes the work even more sublime and suggestive. Everything is in harmony in this record, truly everything. There's little else to say here. Acoustic, vocal, ancient string instruments, and a closing piano. Everything.

What to say in the end? How to close? Should we go back to the initial remarks? Then again, what does "contrived" even mean? I never understood it; what do you think, that Samoth and Ihsahn accidentally stumbled upon a musical instrument to give life to the Emperor? That they didn't aspire from the basement to the big festival stages and success? That "Transilvanian Hunger” isn't an album that Fenriz meticulously studied? That "Bergtatt" was conceived to be played only in a garage among friends, or that the Wardruna were created specifically to entertain fishermen in the Bergen taverns? Come on, everything in the world of Art and entertainment is "studied," every band hopes to have a good contract, and every artist aspires to live off their Art. Bruun loves what she does, and it is felt, no matter what the tough&pure say in front of their beer mugs, it's undeniable that what Myrkur offers is of high quality in its genre, and anyone who truly loves diving into certain atmospheres and looking at certain totemic places up there, in the vast and rugged North, cannot help but feel all of this.

P.s. To confirm what I'm saying, this is one of the average comments found below Bruun's reviews, I quote exactly as I found it on a famous site: "this stuff is a ridiculous sell-out, here comes the pretty model who gets to make a black album, wow! Honestly, as much as I respect Garm, I don't understand why he produced an album like this, maybe she gave it to him, who knows."

Grammar aside, all of this is surreal, superficial, and at the very least childish. "Black Album"??? But when ever? What are we talking about? These aren't even criticisms, come on, they are typical sounds of bad digestion, nothing more. Criticizing contents is fair, but if we are truly honest, this project is almost always dismissed only in these terms. In my opinion, it doesn't deserve it, and I gladly use this space to tell those who love these sounds to listen to the album, not the visceral post-binge motions among "alpha males." I ardently hope that idiocies like this don't appear here as well, although I unfortunately doubt it.