Review
Abrasive bow strokes on Hardanger fiddle and nyckelharpa cut directly through low-end synthesizer frequencies, flanked by mechanical sub-bass pulses and the twang of a mouth harp. Throughout the mix, tactile acoustic surfaces—wooden resonance chambers, unvarnished fretwork, struck skins—press against distorted electric guitar riffs and compressed electronic grooves. Across these layered arrangements, Gunnhild Sundli’s vocals oscillate between breathy, close-mic’d lower registers and piercing folk cries that project straight through the dense mid-range.
Rather than drifting into loose cinematic haze, the sequencing maintains tight runtimes under five minutes. Pieces like "Bergteken" and "Oskorsreia" pivot abruptly from delicate acoustic strums into churning, distorted crescendos, whereas "Strandvaskar" and "Nokon" lean on cavernous percussion patterns and steady rhythmic throttle. Vocal harmonies from Heilung's Maria Franz on "Sannsiger" thicken the choral space, yet the record deliberately recedes toward its conclusion. By the time "Jostedalsrypa" strips away the heavy amplification for concert piano and cello, the hybrid production reveals its disciplined core: traditional Scandinavian ballads treated not as museum relics, but as kinetic, heavily motorized arrangements.
