Burzum - Dauði Baldrs

 I suppose it's about time that I address this work.  All of us here are undoubtedly well-familiar with this ugly, minimalist, droning record.  In a way, this album is perhaps more fitting for the term "dungeon synth" than any I've reviewed so far, when we consider that not only does it sound exactly like one has been condemned to that damp, cold place, but it was in fact composed and performed by a person who was himself in a dungeon of sorts. 

These tracks are mostly spooky, an atmosphere of gloom, isolation, and despair, which is enhanced by the raw midi tones.  Judging by the music alone, it still seems fascinating to me that this album could've become so well-known, due to the sheer simplicity and repetition.  It is, of course, understandable, considering Burzum's general fame and the hype that was surrounding Varg at the time, and this album as well, being his first "prison album."  In a way I'd say that the hype was a very good thing, because it allowed listeners to explore a very eccentric release that I think most would usually avoid judging on the music alone.  Instead, people listened and attempted to understand, and though I personally do not know that there is too much to "get" here, it still played a powerful role in opening people's minds to what could be done with the dungeon mood.

There are some quite magical moments mixed in with these trudges through desolation, such as Hermoðr á Helferð and Móti Ragnarǫkum. 

This work as a whole could best be described by the term "vampiric."  I certainly don't mean that in the sense of the popular modern notion of vampires, of course, but more along the lines of what it symbolizes: the decayed aristocracy, a noble bloodline turned monstrous by the weight of time.  I feel as if Varg most strongly falls into his persona as "Count Grisnakh" here, the title and blood of a high-born person but with the repugnance and innate evil of an orc.  One can almost picture, especially during tracks such as Bálferð Baldrs and Í Heimr Heljar, a horrific tyrant, limping through a rotting castle, barking orders at subordinates, drunkenly attacking servants, or sometimes just screaming at empty air in his inbred madness.

The mood becomes far more somber in Illa Tiðandi.  It is a song filled with loss.  It feels as if this is a more sober look at just how deeply this once-beautiful existence has been corrupted.  It seems to have fully accepted the hopelessness, but there is beauty nonetheless, if only in a sort of dreamlike remembrance of what must've once been, though can be experienced no longer.  The length of this track is the longest in the album, and I think for good reason, since I feel that it represents the sands of time blowing on, the long wait before life might return to the desert.  It is a mood of not only loss, but acceptance, recognizing that night inevitably comes.

And then there is the track which I feel is the highlight of the album, Móti Ragnarǫkum, which is the rebirth where the previous track was the death.  It is grand and glorious; one sees the towers crumbling, the earth splitting asunder, fires raining from the heavens, and finally senses that the thorough rot is being washed away.  This track might even be the climax of all of Burzum's ambient material, that this decadent modernity which Varg so opposes finally meets its inevitable destruction, so that the life might begin anew without this debilitating disease.

I'm sure many of you have come to this conclusion already, but for its surprising simplicity, this album is quite thought-provoking, and strangely elusive.

Forgotten Dreamscapes - This Place, Where Destiny is Made

This work is crude, like a strange, shamanic-looking figure carved into a cave wall.  It is vague, utilizing extremely short or limited phrases, creating a sense that the life and spirit of that unattainable fantasy is now but an incorporeal, transparent ghost, truly forgotten.  There is little beauty or ugliness here, merely the shell of something that once might've been magnificent, now reduced to near-unrecognizable rubble.  There is a hint of some ancient magic in this scattered, dusty debris, though it has long since been buried by the winds of time.  Perhaps it is as some spot in an ancient desert, where the corners of several pillars are almost imperceptibly surfacing from the sands.

There is not too much I have to say about this work.  It is quite primitive, however it feels like a very honest and genuine attempt at grasping that mysterious realm through music.  In a way it might be an unpolished gem, but so unpolished that the gem lies deep within, with nothing but rock visible, surrounding it.  If it is to be appreciated it would take quite some mental effort by the listener, I think perhaps a bit too much.

Now that said, this feels like an early effort, in the sense that I see definite sincerity in this work, which suggests great potential in the artist.  I look forward to his future works, which I have a feeling will have more depth and beauty.  Not that there is none to be found here.  I think it's quite worth listening to, as really primitive dungeon synth has its own unique charm, allowing more room for the listener to explore his own fantasies, merely providing the seeds for the visions to grow in the dreamer's mind.

The album can be downloaded for free here: http://www.mediafire.com/?wftenfrug4t57ob

Myrrdin - Glomung Ofer se Weald

The lost wisdom seeps out from the depths of the ancient tombs, dark and beautiful.  The only truth lies in the deep fantasies of the imagination.  That is where one will find respite and sanctuary, magic and beauty.   This work by Myrrdin slowly approaches that strange twilight, easing one into the depths of synthetic mystery, until before one realizes, the world around oneself fades into the fantasy realm of the dreaming mind.  It hovers like a ghost of some uncertain dimension, where remembrance of that golden city remains.  Straight-faced, this spirit promises a land beyond an endless river, a land in which streams of sparkling diamonds run freely into the black sea that only the White Ship dares sail.

This is probably an album I should've reviewed quite a while ago, considering that it is relatively new, obscure, and one of my favorites.  Exploring both the antique as well as spacey patches, this work majestically flutters over a dynamic landscape, at some moments quaint and nostalgic, at others deep and mystical.  It is a work that I feel epitomizes the genre, and it is damn-well composed.  Though this album has synths that very much contain the "dungeon synth sound," they are not of the dirty and forlorn variety.  Instead they are rich and magical, having a vintage aspect no doubt, but certainly not a "cheap" sound.  Rather, the timbres have an luxurious quality, as of a strange fabric sold by exotic merchants who traveled from some unknown, distant jungle.

In terms of the composition, this is not one of those oft-listed dungeon synth records that maintains the same several chords for a whole hour.  It is quite varied, contrasting several darker riffs with the more majestic and beautiful ones, making the latter all that much more powerful.  The riffs never linger, yet nor do they depart before their spell has been cast; it wanders at a comfortable pace, allowing the listener to view every enigmatic vista in his own time, but never forcing him to remain and look too deeply.  It is quite easy on the listener, not requiring much work on his part to appreciate the beauty here, and yet I feel that hides a powerful complexity and uniqueness of vision.  This work only expects its listeners to explore the surface encounters of these beautiful images, as is very natural for a mind observing music indirectly, whether as background ambiance or nearing the dream-state.  But that is not to say that there is nothing below that surface, only that those lower and more obscure atmospheres, those "between the notes," so to speak, are delivered subconsciously, and arrive like unremembered dreams.

I sense a Mortiis influence, however that is only vaguely through the atmosphere.  While Mortiis sounds like decadent kingdoms, tyrannical kings, and rotted, undead mages, this sounds more like high magic: vast floating cities and immensely-powerful, benevolent, absent-minded wizards of a great old order that has matured into a trusted council, ruling the kingdom with their mystic wisdom.  Although that picture in my mind could very well be due to the highly imaginative title of the best track on this album, "The Court of the Elder Star-Finders."  This track has a mystery and darkness very much conveying the infinitude of space, and yet acknowledging the intrinsic magic of the obscurely-shining cosmos, which a wise and mighty sorcerer can look to for understanding, of both this world as well as untold secrets of the beyond.  And that is the greatest thing both about this track as well as the album in general, that it conveys utmost mystery.  One feels both that the ultimate answers will be infinitely out of grasp, and yet at the same time that obscure, incomprehensible knowledge, as well as experiences of bizarre and alien vistas, lie right beyond our fingertips.

In short, this is one dungeon synth album that I could confidently recommend to anyone.  I feel that if one doesn't get anything out of "Glomung Ofer se Weald," then most likely this genre is not for them.  Anyways, it is certainly for all of you who have an interest in reading this blog, so if you don't have it already, immediately go to Myrrdin's Bandcamp page where it can be downloaded at a price of your choosing: http://myrrdin.bandcamp.com/album/glomung-ofer-se-weald

Interview with Crow of Lord Lovidicus

Andrew: You just released a new EP, titled "When The Mountain Falls."  Is there anything you can tell us about these new tracks?

Crow: The tracks off the new EP were actually recorded back in the winter of 2011 - 2012. I was originally intending to complete a full album, yet I got sidetracked with my Jotun project. Initially there was a concept to the album; it had a story line and everything about a two headed giant that destroys a village in the mountains and one man escapes where he travels through the nearby forests and finds a sorcerer to aid him. There was more, but that's about as far as the songs go. I decided to finally release it as an EP to signal the return of Lord Lovidicus after a year of inactivity.

Andrew: On the topic of Jotun, though it is not dungeon synth, I imagine a lot of fans of the genre would have an interest in it. I personally find it a bit hard to describe, possibly avant-garde dance music? Could you explain the general concept behind that project?

Crow: I would say the genre of Jotun would be Norse themed electronic/techno music. Although I like the idea of avant-garde because it is pretty innovative. I could see elements of dance music in it, but I didn't really intend them. I'll just say let people decide what the genre is. Anyways, Jotun was more of an escape from the same old Dungeon Synth that I had been writing constantly for almost the past 3 years. I wanted to explore new areas of musical creativity. I think it was a greatly beneficial experience and now, returning to Lord Lovidicus, I believe future releases will be exceptionally improved. Another contributing reason as to why I started up Jotun was because I hadn't incorporated Norse Mythology into my music, and at the time I was listening to a lot of chip tune music, which seems to be a growing techno genre from indie games such as Minecraft (and I play that game addictively). In effect, Jotun has become primarily popular with Minecraft videos on YouTube, especially with my good friend Xisumavoid who did write very nice "Dungeon Synth-esque" music under the name Soulside Eclipse. His project was actually an influence to my early Lord Lovidicus releases, and is definitely worth a listen.

Andrew: Wow, I was not aware of Soulside Eclipse, but giving it a quick listen now, the "Forgotten Conquests" album seems like it's definitely dungeon synth, certainly fitting for the list. The recommendation is much appreciated.
There seems to be a clear nod to RPGs with your project, since "Lord Lovidicus" itself refers to a character from an elder scrolls game.  Would you cite video game music as being a strong influence on your work? 

Crow: Surprisingly, video game music is not a direct influence of Lord Lovidicus. I think on the "Journey to Beleriend" EP there was one song that was directly influenced from Morrowind, but other than that I can only say video game music influences me indirectly. Although, I would say that RPG's in general inspire me, such as the Elder Scrolls series and various 90's and early 2000's games such as Legend of Zelda or Diablo II. However, some of the biggest influences for LL come from books, not video games. The Lord of the Rings series was a huge influence, and I constantly read from the Edda's about Norse Mythology. Musically, the big influences would be Burzum, Summoning, and Mortiis. Especially Mortiis. My friends and I would play Dungeons and Dragons and the background music was always "The Song of a Long and Forgotten Ghost." There is really so much that inspires me, it's hard to put it all into words.

Andrew: What is your usual composition process?  Also what kind of synths do you use?

Crow: When I compose a song I usually have a general idea of the theme beforehand. So I question myself, is this song going to be dark and dungeon like, ambient and ethereal, or adventurous? Once I have a main theme I go straight to recording merely off a whim. This is mainly to get the ideas flowing. I'll record various melodies of synths, then I'll decide which should belong where. I usually like to begin with string synths. It just has a nice generic tone to base everything off of, and from there I branch off each melody with various sounds such as trumpets, timpani drums, tambourines, reed flutes, fiddles, etc. I don't try to limit myself on which sounds to use, although I do discern between which sounds are perfect for LL, and others that most definitely are not. I never name songs before making them, and I think most people can agree that would be an idiotic thing to do, especially if the song just engenders itself before your eyes. After giving it a few listens the name comes, eventually.

Andrew: What kind of keyboard do you use, assuming you're using a physical instrument rather than softsynths?

Crow: I almost always use my Yamaha keyboard (YPT - 220). It has a nice selection of MIDI sounds, I think it's a total of 350. I used to have an old Casio which was used from Windbuchen to Daulu Burz Ishi. When I'm not using my keyboard, I occasionally record acoustic or electric guitar and sometimes use various percussion instruments.

Andrew: What are your thoughts on the naiveté and simplicity in dungeon synth?  Is it important to remain self-taught, and perhaps even "ignorant" musically (by common, modern standards of course), or can intentional minimalism by a "learned" musician still reach that same primitive charm?  And then which of those two categories would you describe yourself as?  

Crow: I don't even think being musically learned or not has anything to do with it. It is more of a philosophical ideal; the notion of simplicity. Although, you can most definitely tell when one is musically learned or not by the sound of their music. I wouldn't consider unlearned musicians bad. They are actually more interesting to hear because of how abstract their composition styles may tend to be. For example, I have a schizophrenic friend who knows nothing about formal musical composition, yet he writes very complex electronic music with abnormal musical modes and time signatures. I would describe myself along the lines as a learned musician, as I have been playing piano since the age of seven and can recite rather difficult classical pieces. I know a good deal of music theory and can read sheet music, a skill that many modern day musicians seem to neglect, which of course is not necessarily a bad thing. However, even though I have the ability to write complex music with fluctuating arpeggios or 7/4 time signatures, why do I keep it simple? It is because simplicity is the fundamental basis of everything. Why write a novel when you can condense those emotions into a single verse of poetry? Simplicity is bliss and leaves so much room for imagination.

Andrew: Being an artist who has so far released all of your material as online downloads, how do you personally feel about the internet in relation to this genre?  Should we still be championing physical music when possible?

Crow: The internet has always been a large part of my life. I don't think there is a day when I pass up the chance to go on my computer. Without the internet, I do not think LL would've nearly gotten as much recognition as it has now. I believe the internet has a similar effect to many new artists, especially in this genre. Perhaps in the 90's and early 2000's, CD's were the preferred medium of musical listening, however, with the advent of the MP3 player and internet file sharing I can easily see old means of musical devices being phased out. A lot of people still love and cherish CD's, Cassette tapes, Vinyl, etc. Personally, I do not care by which means I hear music, nor the quality. The way I see it, the internet is extremely convenient when it comes to circulating music. That's mainly the reason why there are still no physical releases for LL yet. It's convenient for me and it's convenient for my listeners.

Andrew: What is your relation with modern society?  Do you bear any animosity toward it, or is the escapism of your music solely out of a love for fantasy?

Crow: Concerning my avid use of the internet, I find it extremely hard to relate with our society. I can see this being a problem for many others as well considering the social ineptitude correlating with use of technological devices. Although there are more pressing and ethical reasons as to why I am detached from society. I feel as though society has become soft; too innocent. There are outrageous laws of censorship, piracy is a joke, religious peoples around the world become too easily offended, the list could go on forever, yet I take the nihilistic approach and watch in apathetic contempt. Let their folly reckoning be their demise. I'll standby and observe as the Earth burns asunder. Both the love of fantasy and the escapism of my music are my way of fleeing the everyday trivial problems of man. It is to take me to a time, ancient and long forgotten, where I can be at peace with seas of azure, rolling moors, emerald forests, and dungeons of yore.

Andrew: What mindset do you feel is best for listening to dungeon synth, and particularly your music?  Do you find the atmospheres are the most powerful when focusing upon visualization, just daydreaming with it as background music, or maybe even listening as one goes to sleep?

Crow: Personally, the mindset that suits dungeon synth for me is surrealism, or detachment from reality. My mindset while listening to this genre is one that wants to escape the world for a little while and explore lands of creativity. Visualization and imagery are very powerful for me. There are certain associative thoughts that go along with all my music and music I listen to in general. That is probably why listening to this type of music while going to bed is amazing. It gives the chance for you to close your eyes and let the sounds and melodies take you to mystical realms. It certainly makes good background music as well. I guess it really depends on what you like, but I can definitely say imagery is big for me.

Andrew: Do you have any future plans for Lord Lovidicus?

Crow: At the moment I am working on ideas for the next album. I have not recorded anything yet, and unfortunately production may be slow. The only reason for this is because I am in college at the moment which grants me limited time for recording. On top of this, I have been experiencing technical difficulties. I just bought a new headset and whenever I place the mic near my keyboard's speakers it creates this annoying background static. I have no idea how I would fix that physically, yet I've been trying to locate the frequency produced so I can equalize it out, haha. Once I get past that barrier I'll probably start recording some songs.

Andrew: I appreciate you taking the time to respond to my questions. Do you have any final things you'd like to add?

Crow: I'd like to say thanks for the interview; it has been a real pleasure and a great opportunity for me. Best of luck to your blog and all other dungeon synth artists out there. This genre is a true gem.

The albums of both Lord Lovidicus and Jotun can be downloaded for free here: http://www.youtube.com/user/CrowHavenBM

Abandoned Places - Return to the Palace of Mirrors

For anyone who's listened to the previous two Abandoned Places albums, the sound of this one will not come as a surprise.  It does explore some new and interesting elements, yet it is still very much a descent into the darkest, grimiest, and deepest places of the crypt.  Like the previous releases, it starts out with a track that does grasp the listener on its own.  But, also as the previous releases have been structured, the descent into the middle of the album requires more of the listener, as it becomes even slower and more unpredictable, allowing the unnerving environment of a monster-filled catacomb to take form in the mind's eye.  The best approach to an Abandoned Places album would be to see it as a challenge, rather than as an aesthetic treat; think of it as a genuine plunge into the blackness, where one has to be vigilant against the ghouls and vampires which lurk among those shadows.  That, I feel, is how to best appreciate this artist's work, as something which one confronts and attempts to conquer, very much like the RPG notion of dungeons.

When it comes to the textures and timbres of the synths, I still feel, even though these are quite familiar to Abandoned Places' previous efforts, that they're some of the best in the genre.  There is undoubtedly a very lush, nostalgic 90's quality to the sounds, bringing one back to the time of the early CRPGS.  Though the artist has yet to do a cover song with this project (at least that I know of), Abandoned Places still seems to have one of the strongest connections to video game music while at the same time being undoubtedly dungeon synth.  It is a strange quality in the music, that even though it brings to mind images of pixilated, cubical hallways, it is that same "cheesiness" that seems to give it an even further level of menace.  Somehow the cheapness and vague familiarity of these thin synths seem to make the music far more frightening than had the compositions been done with modern and professional tones.

But of course tension is not the only goal of this material; there are some quite thrilling and relatively catchy moments, contrasting against the bleak wandering.  The first track, as I already mentioned, does this, as well as "Maramon," which sounds more like a desperate, frantic fleeing from an abyss that seems to be creeping further toward the explorer, the poor soul hopelessly attempting to navigate the endless labyrinth.

Though I did not review the second Abandoned Places album, and am not sure how much I enjoy any of them, I still strangely find myself coming back to all of them quite regularly.  The fascination is difficult to explain, though these are certainly the kinds of albums where I feel as if every time I listen I seem to see them in a slightly different way.  I suppose it would be that way with any dissonantly challenging work, and I'm not sure whether I'll ever understand them to the point that there isn't a moment that is draining and unsettling, though I don't suppose that was ever the intent.

The definite highlight of this album, for me, is the final track.  It stretches on nearly fifteen minutes, breaking the usual Abandoned Places form, and in that space it seems to avoid repetition in a way far better than any of the other tracks.  Even though it is bleak and dissonant, one feels that they are trudging onward to some eventual goal, through the endless blackness of tombs to some hopeful end.  I personally feel that a full-length of similar material would manage to explore that deep unnerving despair without seeming to be such an endless, forlorn circle.  My recommendation, if you have never listened to Abandoned Places, is to start with this track, and if you return to this world, sanity intact and with new insights on the abyss, then perhaps you have what it takes to descend into the deeper dark of Abandoned Places.

Return to the Palace of Mirrors can be downloaded at a price of your choosing here: http://abandonedplaces.bandcamp.com/

Munruthel - Yav, Nav i Prav

Munruthel's "Yav, Nav i Prav," or to use its proper characters, "Явь, Навь и Правь," explores many different moods.  It seems to rise like a fog, from the soil, grass, and wind, bringing moods and memories of the land and those forgotten ones who lived strictly upon it.  At times it is grandiose, masculine, and triumphant, such as in the fittingly-titled "Father-Sun," but then just as quickly slows down to a fragile and serene mood, such as the following track, "Thunderdreams (The Sleeping PERUN)."  This work is near perfectly fitting the traditional dungeon synth model, exploring all the atmospheric presets and effects of a 90's keyboard.  It makes heavy use of the orchestral sounds, but also doesn't skimp with the spacier synth patches, making this both ancient, as well as elevated above, within the cosmic and mystical realm of myth and deities.  

Those attentive dungeon synth listeners will hear a very similar style to the works of "Mistigo Varggoth Darkestra," which is understandable due to their connection through the black metal band, "Nokturnal Mortum."  As well, Munruthel is credited on my copy of the tape for "Midnight Fullmoon," though I don't see a similar such credit on Encyclopedia Metallum, so perhaps someone could comment who might know more about these associations.  

Anyways, while I wouldn't say this is a perfect album, it is still one of my favorites of the genre.  I particularly appreciate the track "Fern Flowering," which uses a very unique sort of percussion and manages to attain an atmosphere of both nature and a medieval society living in harmony with it; I find it to be particularly enchanting, and despite many repeated listens, the track never seems to get old.  One can almost picture towers rising, peasants farming, knights dying, and battles roaring in the distance, all while this one plant eases through its destined life cycle, amid the grit, stone, and toiling.  

"Yav, Nav i Prav" is split into two sides, Summerside, which is tracks 1-5, having a much warmer and energetic tone, and Winterside, which are the rest.  These latter tracks, while colder and slower, do not fall into despair.  They look out at the snow-covered landscape from the grey ramparts, seeming to recognize the dualistic nature of life that we experience, of sun and moon, man and woman, summer and winter.  It looks to the fact that we might've experienced joy and beauty, back, behind the impenetrable gates of our naïve origins, and that we might now be submerged in a violent, nihilistic whirlpool of some strange new becoming, but saying that we should have reason to expect a dawn, beyond this long, bleak night.  Or perhaps if not, then laying down tired, to face one's final rest, is just as beautiful and natural a part of existence as well, even if on the level of our species.

So what I'm saying, basically, is that "Yav, Nav i Prav" is very good.  It's often slow, quite simplistic, even possibly ignorant (there were some pretty directly racist statements on my copy of the tape), but all of these things come with the territory, which is an exploration of instinct, rather than "sophistication" created through civilization.  It is through art of such unaffected outsiders that we can get such an honest experience of the past, and it is through instruments of such familiarity and yet dustiness that we can grasp it as if some strange old dream.  I think most people with an interest in dungeon synth will get something out of this work. 

Erang - Erang

I should've reviewed this album quite a while ago, since I was let known about it by the musician around the time it was released.  My reasoning for not getting around to it until now is that it's taken a bit of time to absorb, but also just due to my own personal laziness.

Anyways, on to the music.  It has a large variety of varying synth presets, all of which are perfectly fitting.  Sometimes you will hear degraded old flutes and violins, dirty and moaning, or sometimes clear and vast horns and strings.  It is undoubtedly a conscious approach, utilizing the decadent sounds of vintage synths when fitting for the mood, and the more modern and "epic" instruments when the melodies begin to soar above the ruin.

But the ruin is vast, a bleak landscape of hopeless nostalgia, resting in the dreams and memories which provide solace in a place of seemingly endless melancholy and despair.  It never drags one fully into the crypts of horror, but it acknowledges that truth lying deep below, recognizing that it is only through escape that one can find meaning and magic.  

This is one of the many records which really crept up on me.  With my first listen, my reaction was that it was "ok, but not great."  After repeated listens, I recognize that it is, indeed, great.  It is evident that the artist put great care into the melodies, structure, choice of synths, etc., all with the clear intention to explore the deep, dark, and mysterious moods which make dungeon synth so wonderful.  

Another aspect of this work which I quite like is the album cover, which, while simple, seems very fitting for the work, being heavily textured, sparse, grey, and having a powerful but vague mystical quality which is hard to place.  There is that same sort of feeling to all aspects of this record.

It is that elusive something which is so appealing to me about dungeon synth, that feeling that if you can just look at the melodies a certain way… then suddenly a magic spell is cast, and one is seeing into a wholly different realm, one which you have been subconsciously yearning for as long as you can remember.  Or in "A Wizard is Never Late" one gets a deeply atmospheric nostalgia, a remembrance of genuine magic, but the bitter irony is there, that the wizard arrives precisely when he means to, which might mean no return at all…  And as you continue to listen, and you feel that vague twinge of hope, you realize that it is an utter fool's hope, an insubstantial, fleeting thing, which the more strongly one attempts to attain, the further it seems to get, the more it slips out of your grasp.  And then the composition recognizes this sad truth as well, evident in the track "Servant of Nothing."  One serves to seek and create an intangible daydream, and while that escapism causes a sort of ecstasy in the moment, one is then left with only emptiness, knowing that the promised beauty will never be experienced in this world.  It is a very emotionally dynamic record, which is quite unique in this genre.

Now, this is not to say that it is a perfect album.  I thought "Wood's Lullaby," while interesting, seemed out of place and to have taken quite a bit less effort than the rest of the material on this album; and then there are some other tracks which also do overstay their welcome a bit.  But this is still a fantastic listen, especially for a debut, that I encourage all dungeon synth listeners to check out.  I very much look forward to hearing future releases from Erang. 

The album can be streamed for free or downloaded for $2 here: http://erang.bandcamp.com/