Toroidh
Europe Is Dead

"Europe Is Dead": a title that would immediately make one think of yet another fanatic intent on emulating the legendary feats of entities such as Current 93, Death in June, Sol Invictus, and, specifically, certain nostalgic views or concepts on the decadence of the once-glorious Europe and the decline of Man, endlessly repeated by the latter two mentioned (and not only).

And yet, no. No apocalyptic wannabes. We are faced with a magnificent album, conceived by a character certainly not new within the '90s industrial scene, the prolific and never too celebrated Henrik Nordvargr Björkk. 

Björkk is certainly no novice; many are the projects the market has welcomed in something like two decades: among others, the dark ambient proposed under the alias Nordvargr, the power-electronics trajectory under Hydra Head Nine, the experimental black metal of Vargr, the noise undertaken under the guise of Muskel, the martial-industrial Nazi-like permeated with power-noise - and of the most destructive archetype - disseminated under the Folkstorm act, the EBM of Pouppée Fabrikk, the multiform experiments assigned to his real name in more recent times, collaborations with illustrious noise-makers of the caliber of Merzbow and Lasse Marhaug, but above all, the celebrated black industrial of what is undoubtedly his most acclaimed, and in my opinion also the most overrated project, Mz.412. In short, we are talking about a character heavily involved in much of the ramifications of the post-industrial scene, and who obviously could not refrain from delving into the apocalyptic (neo)folk, through the alias Toroidh, which does sound much akin to what is heard in Folkstorm territories, yet showcasing a darker, more tragic, and significantly less driven demeanor, decidedly reminiscent of old experimental-esoteric battles conducted on English soil rather than the cold and spectral sound more typical of his native Sweden - see Cold Meat - as well as his own artistic journey, a journey that has made him a followed and highly respected name, particularly on the dark ambient scene.

"Folk music from the times when history was written in black and white and coloured in red". This is how Nordvargr presents the work to us; thus, making it easy to anticipate what to expect; in "Europe Is Dead," indeed, we witness nothing but the same gray and worn albums of photographs dating back to a very specific time frame, themes from the early '900s that were of Folkstorm and before that, of Blood Axis and Der Blutharsch, with all the set of warlike atmospheres, worn-out marches, and military fanfares, but adding a guitarism - acted by Jouni Ollila, a companion in many other projects - that draws heavily from figures such as Michael Cashmore and Tony Wakeford. Not an immensely original work, quite the opposite of a breath of fresh air within the movement, this is clear, but it is equally undeniable that it is an extremely successful, evocative, and transporting album, perverse in its morbid citationism strictly in black and (mostly) white, the product of an artist now in the full maturity of his artistic career. An album, "Europe Is Dead," that stands without too many problems against the unforgettable monsters spawned by the aces we have been able to cite; in the end, it is the Masterpiece of Toroidh, which it must be said, will hardly be repeated under this alias at such levels, indeed I find his releases almost all of a very low level, overshadowing and above all overly indebted to things already seen and already done. And for quite some time now.

With "I" Bjorkk opens with a proud and triumphant German waltz complete with a Mussolini sample, as predictable and out of place as it is suitable to open a work that from "II" onwards becomes increasingly dark, uncomfortable, and impenetrable, veering towards a perpetual darkness, a solemn and dramatic gloom that the Swede well accustomed us to with the Nordvargr testament, characteristics found especially in the first cries of this track, with a chilling and menacing drone subsequently replaced by robust martial beats, monotone chants, and the disenchanted guitar strums of an Ollila striving to emulate no less than the classic sound of Douglas P., complete with quite flaunted accord, while the rhythmic parts and approach in mixing phase bring you straight to that 'black industrial' of which our man is an undisputed pioneer (a putrid and cold industrial played with a true Norwegian black metal demeanor).

"III" is the sound of anguish, featuring perhaps the best dronish background that Bjorrk has ever conceived, enormous and beastly drones reminiscent of what is expressed by a luminary of this sound such as raison d'etre, with somber bell tolls, withered orchestrations à-là Les Joyaux de la Princesse and a guitarism this time almost intangible, hesitant, and relegated to sporadic appearances, leaving ample room for the meticulously balanced catacomb textures of a more than ever ecstatic Bjorrk, even in his warlike and superhuman fervor; these styles, repeated with the apocalyptic "VII" and "IV", however, add chimes, synthetic baroque ornaments, speeches and proclamations, dissonant mandolins, creating a particular contrast with the usual backdrop of dark-ambient (dis)organization, noise waste, and the strictly live bloody martialism.

"V" is probably the most ambitious piece, a colossal eighteen-minute suite divided into seven movements: the first with belligerent and funereal tones, the second with a 'pagan' aftertaste and includes the recitation of Henrik himself ("Lead us to war / Lead us to battle / Lead us to victory / Lead us to peace"), which fades into the third movement, entrusted to an almost prog duet between organ and military drum. The fourth segment sees him first dealing with cold and deviant noise we have lately often become accustomed to hearing him, then with very peculiar drones (sort of claustrophobic underworld screams torn and lacerated, sort of Steven Stapleton model); dark ambient of great depth in the fifth section, once again a prestigious showcase for the bjorrkian mammoth drones in all their squalor, but now imbued with a mantric minimalism, which I repeat, can be likened to the best raison d'être, but whereas this sometimes opened towards neoclassical or at any rate more theatrical scenarios, here it is pitch black, excruciating, a dark ambient of Lustmordian memory, although certainly less diluted. Noises of chains, rusted toms, disintegrated drones symbolizing a sort of ground shaken by the advance of a squadron among the ruins of what once was make the sixth part akin to the climax - conceptual and not - while the seventh and final movement closes with a signature dark ambient, in whose background unclear voices can be heard, sometimes surreal chants, distant, evocative, harrowing, and subsequently leave the classic historical document - alias song from the regime directly from the third reich's gramophone - with the task of lowering the curtain.

A memorable, epic, monumental composition, which, nevertheless, despite its greatness, does not stand as the pinnacle of all, which is undoubtedly represented by the majestic neo-folk of "VI", a jewel of astonishing beauty: desolate guitar riff, sparse yet incisive as tradition has it, inhumanly slowed Gregorian chants, aseptic choruses à la Douglas P. and the usual procession of gruesome martialisms and massive drones, but at the same time airy and very clean, 100% Nordvargr-style, a track that brings to mind a mythological masterpiece of the caliber of "But, What Ends When The Symbols Shatter?", but with a less alienating, clearer, and more direct demeanor. After all, we are far from macroscopic concepts or the whirlwind of diverse emotions that were the '80s works of the acclaimed DiJ/C93 duo, but we have a unique and remarkable mastery in creating sounds/scenarios/atmospheres, not very frequently encountered in dark-ambient releases, which often, excluding the usual great names, are fleeting. Interesting and surprisingly ironic is the hidden track, a sort of '60s ska interspersed here and there by nonsense noises embroidered by the machines of the now not-so-malicious Bjorkk.

An album perfectly balanced between apocalyptic folk, dark ambient, and post-industrial experiments of martial stamp (but not only); let us say that "Europe Is Dead" is something that would come out of a jam between Deutsch Nepal, Death in June, and HNB himself when he takes on the guise of Nordvargr, venerable master of an evocative and visionary dark ambient. A work that deserves due attention.