Gvasdnahr - Through Mists and Ruins

Distant, triumphant, and majestic, this record wanders the cold realm of fog in a mood that well-captures the feeling of epic melancholy. In that way, it is most reminiscent, to me, of Mortiis' "Født til å herske," cold and detached, yet glorious nonetheless, certainly a fitting mood for ruins in the mist. It is undoubtedly escapist in its goals, going directly into another world and allowing us to follow, if we are able. There is little warmth and accessibility in its presentation, but that simply comes with the nature of dungeon synth, sometimes more strongly than others; one must simply learn to appreciate the exploration of the music as a place rather than a story, and it is in that way you can come to understand what this genre, and especially this album, are about.

I've wanted to review Gvasdnahr for quite some time, considering he is one of the currently-active musicians in the style, and so the timing of this recent album's release was quite fortunate. The artist offers it as a free download as well, so there's no harm in trying it. While this project is still fairly new to me, and for that reason I'm unconfident in asserting any overly strong opinions about it, I'd still say this is his best work so far.

I'm not sure what Gvasdnahr's recording methods are, however the precision leads me to believe that it is programmed rather than performed, which serves to also add to its coldness. The synths are all appropriate and familiar-sounding, for anyone that has listened to much of this genre, rarely exploring the sound of ugly or lo-fi synths, however it still most definitely has the "dungeon synth sound." The composition is similarly solid without straying into neoclassical territory, a respectable feat for this genre.

This record asserts the stoic strength of the individual, a single man alone in a vast, empty wilderness. It absolutely takes more than one listen, and maybe even a few drinks to understand. This is a record which acknowledges the pain and strife in navigating this world of emptiness, and yet it acts as a soothing medicine, invoking the old concept of wyrd to provide strength for the individual man attempting to live in this world, keeping the noble, forgotten values in his heart despite the suffering it causes. Or perhaps it is a complete fantasy… perhaps these ideas were never "forgotten" values from the past, but rather they stem from some other place, a new place of fantasy yet to be fully explored, which can provide meaning and context in this land of emptiness.

I must reiterate, this album takes multiple listens to grasp. I am fully dedicated this genre and, to be honest, I was still somewhat turned off during the first few listens. As I'm writing this now, it must be my third or fourth listen, and it's entirely different than the first two, and very engaging. It's been too long for me to remember if this was the same case for Mortiis, however I know it’s the same case for Til Det Bergens Skyggene, and so that leads me to believe that many of these artists are unique in a way that makes for difficult initial comprehension. Give this album time and several listens and I really believe it will grow on you, if it hasn't grasped you from the first.

Anyways, this artist deserves more attention, especially since his works are offered freely.

Lord Wind - Atlantean Monument

The sun rises on a pagan age. Millennia ago, in a pristine, idealized Hyperborea, ancient gods commanded mighty warriors to fight in strife and battle, for honor in both this world and the next. Lord Wind escapes to a place of ancient warfare and statuesque mythological icons, which rise, towering out of the fog, moss-covered yet still glorious despite the wear of countless centuries. In this Atlantean world we encounter mysterious ruins brimming with arcane secrets and foul beasts of ancient legend, witches, chimeras, dragons, medusa, etc., all deadly perils that can only be surpassed with raw steel. Here a fantasy, that is so belittled in our time as being 'childish' or 'immature,' is embraced in way only reminiscent of ages long lost to time, where our 'ignorance' meant that these magic and barbaric worldviews that gave so much meaning and significance to our lives were not compromised by rationalism.

Embrace the old gods! That is what this album seems to proclaim, in a masculine voice supremely confident and unapologetic. Very much like an Atlantean monument, this record seems to be something completely outside of our modern understanding, in that the escapist fantasy bears practically no self-consciousness. In tone, it doesn't see itself as a record of the modern age, yearning for what might've once been, or perhaps should be in our ideal biological nature, but rather it seems to be a work created by someone from such world, with absolutely no comprehension of this one we live in. And then, the fact that these are clearly synthesizers making up the entire work might seem ironic to us, but the artist is unaware or uncaring, far above such trivial things, far too noble to acknowledge the weak, insecure 'irony' that dominates our era. Synthesizers are simply the best route, in this age, to seek the lost truth through music.

Rob Darken is well-known for his Conan-esque battle hymns, which dominate both this Lord Wind project as well as Graveland, however I'd argue that his vision appears in its most pure form in this album, the pinnacle of his efforts thus far. It's more deep and spiritual than any other Lord Wind album, which previously hardly strayed from the mood of simply fighting in some ancient pagan warfare, and it is certainly not bogged down by the angsty testosterone of black metal, such as his Graveland project. Here, Darken's most romantic vision of a pagan fantasy landscape is realized and illustrated in a way that is the most successful with the least genre obstacles; the musical form of dungeon synth, which might not have many listeners, is nevertheless far more suited to exploration of alternate realms within the imagination, which is what I think Darken most wants to do, but lingers within black metal simply due to the larger audience.

Like all dungeon synth, and very much like a "monument," this album seems cold and lifeless, an ancient ruin bearing only the imagined memories of an idealized past. We are only viewing this world from a great height, where we can never get a clear sense of individual lives, and certainly not feelings. We can only imagine the people that might've built such glorious structures and try to sense the wonder and splendor one might feel in early civilization, at having waged battle with nature and begun to succeed in glory against it, and then sought out the horrific beasts that lurk from within its darkest corners, in order to combat them with a mighty blade and pure faith in heroic bravery, and likely, heroic death.

It would be hard, giving it one's full engagement, to not be swept up by the majesty of this record. It seems to be paradoxically both grandiose and modest, a stoic honoring of the heathen deities that once reckoned every aspect of our lives as innately 'barbaric' creatures, creatures now temporarily taken out of our natural pagan environment and thrust into an alien world of modernism. But here, in dreaming through art, we can recollect our true existence that we were denied, a fantasy into which we can escape, and perchance seek once more...

Secrets of my Kingdom, by Mortiis

The Written Word of Dungeon Synth, Part I



Dungeon synth did not emerge out of nothing. Mortiis admitted in interviews that he was inspired by fantasy novels, and Burzum's influence from Norse mythology and Tolkien is well known. It's no secret what tremendous influence Tolkien had upon black metal, and it is from that specific place in black metal that dungeon synth grew out of, so to speak of the genre without mentioning its literary connections would be a tremendous disservice to it. In fact, its entire substance is based around evoking fantastic images unique to the listener's mind, and as one hears those strange atmospheres, it seems they practically beg to be written. As one would expect, there's far more written work out there that parallels the dungeon mood than just The Lord of the Rings. For that reason I will be making occasional posts that deal with certain works I've found to almost come from the same mysterious horizon as this music.

"It feels like what I have created was created a long time ago... And has been recreated by my spirit, or perchance my spirit has awoken at last, to create what was always meant to be...
I can see the castle clearer now, and the paths that lead to it, though they shineth but dimly."
- excerpt from Emperor of a Dimension Unknown

The single most important written work to this genre, apart from Tolkien's material of course, is probably unknown to most of its listeners. Mortiis, shortly before abandoning the vision for industrial/pop music, published a collection of poetry and prose that he had been writing throughout his Era 1 period. The leather-bound book was published in 850 copies by Earache, and was called Secrets of my Kingdom. Clearly this work was to Mortiis' music what The Silmarillion was to Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, proving what many listeners likely suspect, that Mortiis' fantasy was truly a fleshed out world rather than a general concept.

It's unfortunate that this book is so difficult to come by (and expensive), as I feel it often does a better job of expressing Mortiis' vision than the music itself, and certainly gives the listener a much larger context in appreciating it.

Is the writing good? In terms of the actual craft, it wouldn't stand on its own next to "respectable" literary works. There are grammar and spelling mistakes everywhere and it is filled throughout with a hokey, pseudo-Old English wording; however, all of this should be easily forgiven by one who understands the music, as these things cause the writing to be charming in the same way that lo-fi recording quality and lack of musical knowledge/experience affect dungeon synth; it is that shoddy, natural, instinctive approach to creation that reminds the reader that the art they are appreciating is real, that it originates from a place of pure inspiration. And like the music itself, the weakness in technique proves to be no obstacle in allowing the ideas themselves to surge forth, dead serious in the romantic escapism, with a pure, naive faith in one's personal vision that so often seems to be found in the artwork of undeniably young and "immature" creators.

"Somewhere, out there in space and time... The endless dreamscapes lie... And many a soul of a dreamer will forever stay... To gather strength and wisdom...
For here wander always the spirits of dreams, the all-wise, all-knowing... For what reveal not the dreaming mind?"
- excerpt from Dreamworld

A few full samples from Mortiis' obscure tome can be found here.

Til Det Bergens Skyggene - Til Det Bergens Skyggene

Til Det Bergens Skyggene's self-titled cassette is like listening to a mirage. This world is a desert for the soul, and with this work we hear strange glimmers of hope, and although we recognize that it is entirely insubstantial (like a mirage), the sense of longing for that hazy Eden grows. It is a blurry window, through which we see the lost plane of existence where we were meant to live. Perchance we are seeing through the very veil of death, which is why it sounds so terribly cold and alien. Perchance upon journeying out of our dying bodies we will leave this time of mankind's apocalypse and will once more return to the sacred circle of infinite. That's what this work seems to promise as I hear it. It is nostalgia, not simply for some music from the 90's, but rather for the very core of spirituality that all mankind is thirsting for in this age of chaos.

I must admit, it took several listens for this work to really click for me, but with each one my appreciation grows. At first I thought that there weren't enough instruments playing harmoniously and it was too improvisational, but now I realize that every note was intended, and when the hazy keyboard voices are limited to only one or two, that is not due to any kind of naive musicianship, but rather the clear goal of loneliness in sound.

Considering that the release is essentially new as I write this, it is apparent that the musician entirely understands what dungeon synth is about. In terms of capturing the lo-fi magic of vintage keyboards and recording methods, this work has found a perfect voice. To give one an idea of the sound, I'd say the closest relative would be Burzum's ambient work, very spiritual but perhaps not quite as atmospheric as those artists coming out of the Mortiis camp.

These songs sound to me like unanswered questions, which is undoubtedly why my appreciation of the work has come on so slowly. As is the case with nearly all great dungeon synth, the seemingly simplistic songwriting obscures a deep complexity of emotion, delving into an inner world that seems to have branches that go deeper than mere music can convey. It's quite difficult to explain, but right now I sense in the music something very powerful and ancient, like some pagan stone monolith. In fact I'd say all these songs sound very much like discovering a stone circle in scarcely-trod forest. Both seem simplistic, and yet if one were to take the time to sit down and try to feel from a deeper part of their being, they might begin to see a barely perceptible glow, perhaps from some fairy realm that our people have long lost contact with. I'm beginning to believe that dungeon synth is an attempt to reconnect with that indescribable presence within this modern day. I think it's something entirely outside of our ordinary experience, and I'm not sure it could ever be fully forgotten, since it might truly exist in some way that none of our objective science or logic can explain.

Then again, maybe it is simply mankind's instinct to seek magic (even if it is impossible). If so, I also believe that ignorance is bliss. If we're wrong, well, let's simply ignore the possibility that we're wrong. In that way we can create a new myth, for mankind cannot live without one. This is our chance. Support dungeon synth, especially active artists such as Til Det Bergens Skyggene, and let us work to build a new spirituality that is not some simple new age nature worship, nor frivolous morality, but rather the pure magic of the unspeakable other. We cannot underestimate the power of thoughts. We are deeply affected by things that are real, such as instinctual urges connected with survival and reproduction; it makes sense it terms of biology that we would feel such things deeply, but what does it mean when we feel things of fantasy on a similar level of intensity? Does that validate the fantasy? Does that make it real in some way that no institution of mankind can yet explain? My answer is yes.

Needless to say, I greatly look forward to any future releases from this artist.

Forgotten Pathways - Shrouded in Mystery

What have we lost of that mysterious other world? Where would we find ourselves if we took those forgotten pathways? Would only desolate crumbling monoliths be there to meet us, or will we find that the realm of Faerie still exists, but has simply been left behind by a mankind which has gotten lost in a forest much more menacing than any monster of the ancient fables?

Dungeon synth is an attempt to rediscover and walk these inner pathways, which might lead us into the mystical sacred realms somewhere in the collective unconscious, a place of nymphs and sorcery. Whether the artists of this genre are successful depends on whether they have assisted the lone listener with his explorations of the imagination. This is art not for the masses, but for those with the mind of a storyteller, those that can give atmospheric music genuine life with their mind's eye.

Here what we see is another rotting kingdom, functioning on some kind of order put in place long before, now grown quite weak. Forgotten Pathway's demo, Shrouded in Mystery only brings us to the point where we can see the misty twilight that marks the boundary between here and the elfish realm, and blurry in the distance, that fabled landscape itself. We can picture what was lost, what that fantastic realm might hold. And what it truly does hold we can never know because what we have lost is the mystery itself. Our gods, elves, and myths reside in the realm beyond, yet with no mysterious land behind the hill for us today, existence is more meaningless than ever. Most find satisfaction in truths we can objectively believe in, and that was the start of science, to find answers that we can trust for certain. Science ignores all that which can't be handled in objective testable forms, pretends that other states of consciousness and realms of existence are an illusory fluke of biological machinery, but living beings were not meant to live life objectively.

There is no ultimate truth. Science is failing us. Bring us back to the glorious dark ages, where God and gods were physically present in the skies, where other lands were alien planets, where dragons might be found nesting deep in the dark forests, and where the struggle for one's life was a daily quest rather than just a fantasy. This is what dungeon synth seeks to restore, even if just for a brief moment. Only in the most terrible decay and darkness of the inner landscape can we find the lost mystery, and art can only bring us there if it is an isolated journey with a mind embracing the degradation as the inherent quality of lost things.

Cintecele Diavolui - The Devil's Songs

Brown and degraded, lost in a decadent luxurious mustiness of endless life, The Devil's Songs, the lone release of Mortiis' side-project Cintecele Diavolui, is a foray into the atmosphere of the vampire. Instead of Twilight or Nosferatu however, this vampire experience feels much more distant, spiritual, and contemplative. The hunger is ever-present, and the world around it is a melancholy meditation, in a realm where the ticking clock of mortality doesn't exist, and one can live only by their hungers. Like many stories of the undead, and particularly vampires, this seems to be about a creature who is out of place in the modern world. Nobility, noble ignorance, and mysteries in the darkness will always remain, immortal like vampires, but in the modern world they are mere monsters. All of Mortiis' early work is about embracing these decayed dreams, and likewise that is the very nature of this entire genre he played a major role in pioneering. Here the vampire is embraced in a very pleasant jaunt through the cobwebbed passionate mind of the most dignified of the undead.

The music makes major use of the organ, and is much more bouncy and whimsical than the material under Mortiis' main moniker. In some way it manages to be both cheerful and melancholic, like the mind of a cynical world-weary dancer. In that way it comes across to those of us raised on the darkest music as some of the very rare songs that are both honest about existence as well as upbeat and fun.

This was one Mortiis project that never saw enough material for the vision to be fully realized though. One can understand it, from listening to this EP a number of times, but what this could've become was an entirely unique drunken funeral circus, and this albums reveals the road. Perhaps the vampire realized that he was actually mortal, or perhaps he just became hungry and so had to pretend to be a human so that he might mingle amongst them and gain sustenance, or perhaps he never was able to feed and the vampire died; either way, Cinetecele Diavolui never saw another legitimate release. In that way it is like many other dungeon synth works: nobody appreciates them, nobody lets the projects grow, not even their creators. And why would they? It's pride in personal fantasies entirely removed from reality. It's affirmation of the isolated loner, a loser with grand dreams but nothing keeping him from dying in the streets like Kuranes. At least black metal provides the illusion of unity with others, meaningful purpose opposed to madness, simply because you are not alone.

It's no wonder then that the fantasy of the vampire would appeal to the dungeon synth maestro. If only, if only... a man could only drink blood and then live eternally seeking out that impossibly illusive dream that he knows could only be found in unlimited eternity. Everyone wants to live their life in the best way possible, but few would advocate years of simple dreaming. And so the music fantasizes, as dungeon synth always does, and this fantasy is dreary and brown, like the moth-eaten abode of that ancient pale creature, but also it is passionate and carnal, feasting while sighing about hopeless road ahead.

Gothmog - Medival Journeys

We enter the album through gritty barbaric violence, blood dripping from a sword. This synthesizer sound is perfect for dungeon synth. The first song of this album is one of the clearest shining examples of the genre (and yet entirely unknown). It is thick and heavy with ancient decadent brass voices, while timpani drums pound a marching accompaniment, the remembrance of brutal battles fought in ages past. It revels shamelessly in the dirty rotten medieval fantasy, without any sugar-coating or apologies for its spiritual-level indulgence in what most would see as embarrassing nerdiness.

This demo tape is my favorite of the truly obscure dungeon synth works. Truly there are hidden gems out there, and this despite the lo-fi tape quality and occasional performance hiccup, is the height of structural professionalism one could expect from the genre, and yet sacrifices absolutely none of its obscure atmosphere through doing so. What I mean by this is that in listening to the work one will almost never find themselves bored, thinking it too repetitive, and likewise one won't feel as if the next note is going to be obvious and expected, as can often occur due to the many of these dungeon synth artists being self-taught and not particularly experienced or talented with their instruments from an objective perspective.

The songs seem to vary between exciting medieval fantasy battles and quiet solitary dreams of the mystical past, the two strongest themes of dungeon synth, and yet they are both handled well, sound entirely fresh, and can pull one back into that particular beautiful dark inner landscape over and over without the demo losing its power.

It needs to be mentioned again how well the sound of the synthesizer works here. It is, in my mind, the utmost essence of the dungeon synth sound. The keyboard is clearly vintage, and all the instruments bear that nostalgic quality making them resonate on a level coming from the past, giving power to the ancient themes. Complementing the precise choice of instruments is the recording quality: it's degraded and foggy due to being a tape, and yet every note is heard with clarity and a soft texture, which is certainly preferable to the sharp hissing or over-amplification at the other side of the lo-fi spectrum. And along with instrument choice and sound quality, the performance itself is obviously not programmed, giving the music life even though it seems so ancient, synthetic, and distant. Life with the synthetic foggy quality makes things dreamlike, rather than simply alive, or simply robotic.

The greatest thing about this demo is its sheer listenability. It does everything right in terms of nailing the sound, atmosphere, and tone of dungeon synth, without sacrificing the simple enjoyment of sitting down and listening to it again and again. Some works in this style only function well when one makes a large effort to be in the right state, a sort of trancelike distance from the sound, where you experience the atmosphere fully without focusing on the music itself; this demo is not like that. It is simply enjoyable to listen to (which is arguable when it comes to the last few songs, as they tend to drag), but one still experiences the atmosphere of the spiritual fantasy more greatly than most of the less listenable dungeon synth works.

This demo is wonderful, and is by far one of my favorite dungeon synth works, which is why it's such a shame that the artist didn't go on to do more under the Gothmog name. However, the obscurity of the demo makes it that much more wonderful and atmospheric, and would not be so unknown had its artist slowly gone downhill and then eventually started making shitty techno music. As it is, this is a defining dungeon synth release, and I personally feel it should be at the front of the pack representing the large amounts of wildly obscure dungeon synth tapes of projects that never broke through. That is not to say however, that because the artists never became well-known or made official albums that they failed, as not "breaking through" is almost representative of dungeon synth itself, which is lost and hidden within black metal's obese shadow. I wish for it to stay there, so that dungeon synth can be magical like the shadowy black metal underground of the early 90's, but that it won't grow into a fat tumorous girth like the black metal of today.