Ulver
Vargnatt

Between 1991 and 1993, one of the groups destined to become a pillar of the Norwegian black scene put together and naturally self-produced, a demo of 4 tracks - in the version eventually released these were 6 -, Vargnatt (The Night of the Wolf). It is primarily noteworthy how the group's name translated into Italian literally means "wolves"...

This first effort turns out to be a mixture of genres quite different from the black-folk that would make Ulver one of the most sought-after bands by enthusiasts, from a softer, more listenable true black: "Vargnatt" has little that is easily listenable. The devastating impact of the rotten and aggressive sound is evident from the first track, "Her Begynner Mine Arr," which seems to emerge from the dark smoke of some underground, naturally cold, and melancholic like any merry Norwegian forest... The distorted sound of the guitar is immediately picked up by the pounding drums, even if not typically black as one would expect, and by the vocals. This component, however, deserves special attention, as it soon becomes clear that it will form the fundamental imprint of this demo: an unnatural, distorted voice, noticeably different from typical screaming and growl, a true feral hoarse lament, which to many will seem indigestible and annoying, but with patience, it will be seen to add greater depth to the profoundly devastating sadness and decay of the album. The equally hoarse and lamenting riff rises, in rare moments, to a higher level, enchanting the unsuspecting listener in a wondrous state of hypnosis.

The following "Tragediens Trone" (The Throne of Tragedy) initially appears just as disagreeably aggressive, but with more attentive listening, two different guidelines can be easily identified: that of a less atmospheric, more "pulled" piece, thus closer to traditional black, and the evocative one, less smoky than the opener, but more wicked and blasphemous, culminating in a heavily distorted recitation, in a more or less credible Aramaic, of the phrase "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?"

The true symbol of the effort arrives with the instrumental "Trollskogen" (The Troll Forest), which alone would be worth half the purchase of the CD - which is almost completely unattainable. The track is slow, melancholic, consisting virtually only of the notes of an acoustic guitar overlain by sporadic distant whispers: it's impossible not to feel transported into the forest, and overwhelmed by a boundless sadness, like in a dismal drunkenness. In any case, the dreamy and delicate nighttime melodies seem to lighten the mind and navigate on the flows of alcohol.

The following "Ulverytternes Kamp" (The Battle of the Last Wolves) opens in a somewhat unusual way: a distant, haunting, deep riff, with horror not in the rage but in something else that is hard to describe, spirals until the entry of the usual disturbing voice, perhaps a bit annoying in this piece, yet still worth being fully listened to and appreciated for its not necessarily excellent qualities, but at least for its moderate creativity of a different and horrible world like lycanthropy, which Garm hints at in an "alternative" passage...

"Nattens Madrigal" (The Madrigal of the Night), a track eponymous with Lupi's most celebrated album but with which it has nothing to do, opens in an even more unusual way: you get the impression that someone is waking up from a deep sleep, ready for who knows what. The following vigil comprises two parts: the usual incongruous eardrum-grinding tirade, and a sort of drunken prayer to the sky of the dead, impotent in the icy night, a masterful example of doom from which emerges an unparalleled sadness, at times truly hallucinatory and chilling: one of the most beautiful passages on the album, and perhaps in the whole genre. Garm's clean voice is truly spine-tingling, and the result risks truly depressing those who are not ready or a lover of such sensations.

"Vargnatt" is instead perhaps the piece most appreciated by the majority, resulting in a not excessively brutal mix of harsh black-doom tirades and sung-recited in a deep and paralyzing whisper, supported by a marvelous and distressing riff as ever. In short, a test of strength for the aspiring listener, who, if seeking the darkest, most primitive, obscure sensations without fear of looking inside themselves and into the darkness outside the window on a February night, will undoubtedly find them.

Therefore difficult to listen to but of undeniable value. A history of the genre and music all its own, as much and more than highly praised stereotypical and overrated releases known to everyone like "The Wall" or "Ummagumma"...