This interview was published in Dutch originally in 2013. It was conducted in autumn that year, at Selim’s house. In March 2014 he had passed away. I published it here in my own translation, as done later in that year for Wyrd’s Flight. For posterity, for remembrance, for a fire that never truly goes out (and websites where this was originally published do). For me personally, this is the defining article I wrote. Nothing will ever top this I think, in intensity of experience and impact on me and my life. The light never falters.
Pictures kindly provided by Brendy Wijdeven and Paul Verhagen
The Devil’s Blood is no more. The band that gained worldwide fame under the rule of bandleader Selim Lemouchi suddenly called it quits early in 2013. The record ‘III: Tabula Rasa or Death and The Seven Pillars’ was released, but after that, this chapter was closed. A few months later, a new band appeared as a support act for Ghost. Selim Lemouchi & His Enemies. Lemouchi later played a gig for the Eindhoven home crowd on July 13th in Café Oude St. Joris.
Now the debut album ‘Earth Air Spirit Water Fire’ is ready to be released. Time to check how things are going, so on a Sunday afternoon we ring the doorbell at the Lemouchi residence.
Imagine the house at the end of the street. You know, on the corner, the odd one out. The one house where the curtains are not proudly opened wide to let people look inside. It was different from the Dutch stereotype in that way. There were stickers on the door, depicting various band logos. Inside the place was crowded and filed up with books, records and cigarette butts. In between all the stuff a huge dog is walking up and down, well mannered but quite shy. One wall is covered in traces of blood and in the corner is an altar set up, just like everyone has seen in the documentaries and interviews. Contrary to what many people have assumed based on my interview, there was no gloomy atmosphere, no foreboding feeling to the words Selim spoke to me. His home was a regular terraced house, on the corner of a regular street that just housed an extraordinary person who was very welcoming and friendly.
A New Path
Since we were raised with the right manners, we thank Selim Lemouchi for making the time for us. Today the musician has enough time: “It’s Sunday, the last day of rest before we really have to start working towards the seventh of December. We must start building up for the show at TAC (Temporary Art Centre), so it’s really time to act now. Sugar or milk?” Lemouchi goes into the kitchen to make some coffee and continues talking enthusiastically. While the coffee drips from the pot, Czech black metal makes sounds on the background. Sitting down on a flight case, Lemouchi continues his story: “I want to offer people more during the release show than just another rock show. Everything needs to be perfect. The music is not the most important, I’d almost say. They used to have better words to describe that, a complete experience, a happening. Music should never become a mass product, no ready made music that gives away all it has to offer on the first play. I want music that sticks to you. If I don’t experience that myself, then it’s not good enough. That’s how I always worked with The Devil’s Blood, I didn’t care what others thought of my music, as long as I liked it.”
He continues: “With the Devil’s Blood, I would always work with the same mould, I had to let that go of that on the new record. The formula went overboard and I decided to let the inspiration go it’s own way, letting it flow out, so to speak, and choose the direction it wanted to go. That has been a huge step, alongside opening up to others and work together. Robbie Geerings (Alabama Kids, mostly known from record store Bullit) even wrote two songs for this record, namely ‘Deep Dark Waters’ and ‘Next Stop, Universe B’. We produced the record together.”
Were these ready made moulds and formulas perhaps the reason for The Devil’s blood to quit, that is the question. “No, I think that within one form you can do endless variations and have an enormous spectrum of possibilities. All music already exists, I truly believe that. That means that one can go anywhere within certain parameters. All the records we made, I’m very proud of. I just think that with this way of working, I said everything I wanted to say. It was time for a change.”
‘Earth Air Spirit Water Fire’
On ‘Earth Air Spirit Water Fire’, the musical journey of Selim Lemouchi continues. There is a new sound and a changing group of musicians who surround him. “I keep wanting to change things. At this moment in time I listen to plenty of black metal. Maybe that is the next kind of record I would want to make. For ‘Earth Air Spirit Water Fire’ I took it onto myself to not hold back, not to limit myself with goals and targets. It was mainly experimenting, letting in others and collaborate on music making. That was the biggest challenge for me after being in full control for seven years. I try to steer the others, motivate them, but also to learn from myself as much as I can.”
A cup of coffee is placed in front of me on the stuffed table. It’s a mug with the Tasmanian Devil on it and the text reads ‘100% Animal’. Lemouchi drops down on the couch and grabs his phone to let me hear a bit of music. “When Robbie (Geerings) moved in here after Bullit closed, I handed him a guitar. He hadn’t touched one in years, but was he just sitting on my couch, doing nothing? I wasn’t having that. So this is what came out, which made me think: we can probably work together!”
Lemouchi was sometimes named the dictator of The Devil’s Blood. Is he now more the manager of Selim Lemouchi & His Enemies? “That’s a good description actually, I think of myself more as a director or producer though. I tell people about my ideas and let them work with those in their own ways.”
The next step in his journey wasn’t a casual step forward, it evolved. First there was the EP ‘Mens Animus Corpus’ (Mind, Soul, Body) was released. A title that seems to be more focussing on the ‘I’ in relation to its surroundings. “That is very true, that record was the first step outwards, it’s like a bridge between how I used to work and the new way; I didn’t feel like letting go of the reigns yet, I needed a sense of control. I recorded demos until I felt it was safe to hand over the music to others, which was still very difficult for me. But I did it and and took this new course I’m on now. From element A in the music, you need to get to element B and there’s only one right path. You have to find that, otherwise it doesn’t make sense, it’s not what it potentially could be and that’s the inspiration you need to unleash, for yourself and others.”
The hard path
Lemouchi blames himself for the difficulty of the path he chooses when making his music: “I demand the best from myself and I’m painfully honest towards others about their input. I expect the same hunger and critical position in return from them as well. Some people have a hard time with this attitude, the current group of musicians I work with as well. At the start, we’d almost get into fights in the rehearsal room. Now everyone knows what I want to achieve and the drive and motivation I have and expect. The music must be great, emotions and egos have to be put aside to achieve that. This is just as true for myself. I think a band loses its quality, when people stop telling them ‘No’. When the keenness and challenges fade. I want to avoid that, but that’s not easy. Artists have to unite creativity with their narcissistic side. Of course, all of it has to do with money as well, but money is something I never really understood much of anyways. My role in this band, is to challenge others and hone them into critical musicians. That way, the band is bound to produce great things. Maybe the choice for the name ‘His Enemies’ has something to do with that, the hostility towards each other now and then. The art is the most important thing in the end.”
Art needs inspiration, but the question that inspires Lemouchi will obviously not receive a standard answer. He gives some examples: “I listen to a lot of music, music is something that’s as broad as you can imagine, when you let go of categories and genres. Take what I am listening to right now, for example (Master’s Hammer from the Czech Republic is playing, red.): I read that a lot of the inspiration for this band comes from Bathory and other classic black metal. It was a review that totally missed the point. My thought was that the writer was incapable to hear the Czech folk influences in the music or the classical influences. People limit their framework of reference and that annoys me. Music is like a spider web, everything is connected and all inspires everything else. Without the Beatles there would not be any Pink Floyd and without them none of the bands that followed and so on. Don’t limit yourself to a genre or a scene by locking yourself up in it.”
“When I’m making music, I only listen to my own music, nothing else. When I have something and record it, I just get into that for days and delve into it. I listen to the recordings a hundred times over, until I think its perfect or I’m utterly sick of it. Then I start writing my lyrics and fill in the gaps in the music. I don’t even know what is popular right now, I only focus on my own music. Of course I do listen to things now and then, I have a list of songs that I think are the best…” The mobile phone comes up again and a series of band names are read out loud: “Jethro Tull, Czech band Root, Coil, Thin Lizzy, Beatles, King Crimson and Black Sabbath… and so on. I listen to this when I feel my own obsessiveness is making me go insane, but even then I have to force myself to let go and listen to something else.” The term ‘Occult Rock’ doesn’t say much for Selim Lemouchi: “I once wrote that in one of those boxes on iTunes for The Devil’s Blood. I love those boxes that you fill in with style names and inspirations… The term fitted with The Devil’s Blood and our sound at the time. Later they asked me what I thought of the occult rock scene, but I don’t know of any scene. Is Occult Rock a scene? It’s not like we and other bands that get this label meet up and hang out at shows, most of these bands don’t interest me at all or I’ve never heard of them. Ghost did make some good music, but the comparison between us and them? Nah, I don’t see it…”
Many books are being read by Selim for ideas and inspiration, but sometimes he reads nothing at all. Lemouchi describes himself as a peculiar reader. “I like to read on the toilet, I always keep a pile of books there that I read randomly. Lately I’ve been reading a lot from the French poet Rimbaud. I enjoy reading the Compte de Lautréamont, who wrote extensively on cruelties. Of course I read plenty of books on theology and theosophy. I started reading ‘An Antarctic Mystery’ by Jules Verne again and I’m reading ‘The Dark Tower Saga’ by Stephen King. I’ve always been able to draw a lot of inspiration from those books. ‘Bloody Meridian’ by Cormac McCarthy is also a great book, which takes place in the early days of the United States. Like you’d expect I read plenty of religious books, grimoires and books on archeology. The Bible and the Koran keep providing ideas and inspiration as well. It’s always good to read books in which others try to find the truth. You should always rely on your own ideas, but those of others can definitely stimulate you.”
This inspiring mode works the other way around as well, as can be heard on the record ‘Earth Air Spirit Water Fire’, which is presented on the 7th of December. An album where Lemouchi inspired the band with his ideas. Lemouchi asks the first question about the album himself: “When you listened to it, did you hear one album or five pieces?” I answer it’s double, the songs are very different, but it feels like one. Some songs remind you of Pink Floyd or doom metal, others are more dreamy and kraut rock inspired, enthusiastic he replies: “I recognise that. For myself, I only listen to the full album in a file of 43 minutes, which I got after the recordings. I have the separate mp3’s as well, but it’s the whole that feels good. The peculiar thing is though, that these are indeed very different pieces of music, written separately, that form a whole. The album feels like the time between sunset and sunrise, the night. Some songs, like ‘Chiaroscuro’ and ‘The Deep Dark Waters’, are simple by design, with just one riff. These songs have a very narrative style and are basically quite simple, containing just one guitar riff that is reshaped, bent and repeated. They never get too complex, too stifled with extra stuff. ‘Next Stop, Universe B’ sounds dreamy. It seems like a very simple song, but it keeps changing although it’s hardly noticeable. It’s like the song ‘Just Dropped In’ by Kenny Rogers, never the same; if feels logical, but it’s completely irregular. It’s almost like we let go of the standard structure of a song in that one. Robbie (Geerings red.) hated it. If I couldn’t write a normal song, he asked me. That told me it was right where it had to be. We fought a lot over that song, but it really became a very good one.”
Having arguments with people is definitely a side of Selim Lemouchi, very different than the friendly spring of words today would seem to be. In his terraced house in Eindhoven he is calm and patient. It is as if he becomes someone else. I confront him about his two faces. I wrote about his friendly side and his artistic side in my review. “Yeah, I read that, but I think I have more than a thousand faces really… No, I think you were right. The friendly side may be a mask, a screen; I present myself as nice to be able to work in this society. On stage, with my music, I become a predator. I leave the herd behind and I see a red glow in front of my eyes. I think that’s where I open up, I show myself, because there I have to be in full control and everything must be right. I’m exactly where I should be and do what I have to do. Everyone else around me is required to do the same. The normal values fade away in those moments.”
Lemouchi looks away thoughtfully, he is not entirely happy with that darker side: “I keep working on it, that’s part of the task of collaborating with others. However, I need to express myself sometimes, even when I don’t want to. I can’t control that. There is a side of control and order to me, but also the creative, chaotic side. Those are intertwined and I’m still looking for the right balance.”
e across an album that defies categorization, that simply is out there in a way little else is. Dordeduh released one of those albums this year, their sophomore release ‘Har’. It’s a celebration of Romanian culture, but also an embrace of the future and crossing over into new domains. It tells of deep history and myths yet opens its arms to whoever listens to it. It’s a statement and testament to what the band is about.
Dordeduh is often described as a project that sort of split-off from the well-known Negură Bunget . Yet, that does injustice to the people behind the project, their vision and creative drive. While the roots may be similar, Dordeduh has paved its own path. It did take years for the follow up to ‘Dar de duh’, which came out in 2012, but hey, here it is finally!
Though Edmond ‘Hupogrammos’ Karban is enjoying his time off outdoors, he did take time to talk about this new album and share some insights into the process behind the band and the album, the current state of the world, and playing Prophecy Fest (hopefully) where they’ll do a Negura Bunget set.
Hello Dordeduh, how are you guys doing?
Hello there. I am in vacation and I enjoy some free time in the wilderness of our mountains, with no internet and telephones and technology.
You’ve released the monumental album ‘Har’ this year, still in the midst of the pandemic. Did you consider not releasing it yet or had you already postponed the release?
We had the album ready already in July 2020. We had some chats with the label if it would be wise to release it in the winter of 2020, but in the end, they decided to have it in the late spring of 2021. But for me, seen from the artist’s perspective, I wanted it out asap, to see the album released and have it out of my hands.
Dordeduh was formed in 2009 and in 2012 you released your debut. We had a long wait for ‘Har’, so the question is; what took you so long? And what has driven you to create music again? I have read, for example, that you were never entirely happy with the ‘Dar De Duh’ sound. Does that have much to do with it?
It took so long because I became the father of 3 boys and family became the main priority in life. When kids started to grow, I started to feel more secure as a parent, I started to write music again. Regarding “Dar de duh” I think that it was never about not being satisfied with the result, it’s more about having a perfectionistic point of view. Judging the compromises we had made on that record, I think that the result is pretty good.
Har has two active concepts in the background. One is related to the title, which means “grace, or divine grace”. This aspect is important because, in order to have such a moment of epiphany where one feels that divine grace, one needs a specific inner balance, a specific openness and a specific state of mind. One has to be mentally and soulwise fit for such connections. And this leads to the second concept, the practical aspect that this album is talking about; more precisely it invites to undertake a journey into our own depths. This journey most of the time does unveil unpleasant aspects about ourselves. The things that we are confronted with during such a transformation process are related to trauma, to different contents that lie dormant or hidden in the subconscious mind. In order to heal all these aspects one needs to be confronted with his own darkness, but also with the craving for pleasant experiences. The wanted state is one of equanimity. It’s a very lengthy process and after the initial confrontation a long integration period is needed. This has to be part of our everyday life, of our routines, of our daily practice. Another aspect related to the conceptual background of this album is related to our lost and forgotten cosmic memory. I strongly believe that we have a cosmic heritage that lies dormant in us, way beyond what can we perceive in our normal state of consciousness. This heritage occasionally gets unlocked during the journey I mentioned before.
As a parent yourself, it’s a horrible question to be asked, but is there a song on this record particularly close to your heart?
Yes, “In vielistea uitarii”. Even most of the material I wrote for Negura Bunget and Dordeduh was always impersonal, this time there are personal touches in that whole impersonality.
You’ve stated that the recording process for the album was very relaxed, though under hectic circumstances. Can you elaborate on that and also share what the process was like for this particular record?
For me, the ideal environment for writing and shaping an album is to have an isolated place where I can freely work exclusively on the material. To be able to keep the focus and an appropriate mood for writing is crucial for me. Otherwise, every time when I turn back to the writing process I need some time to adjust and to create the right atmosphere to dive into the album. This time I did not have anything close to that. I wrote most of the things after 9 PM when I placed my kids in their beds. So the process probably took a bit longer.
But having our own studio allowed us to record some of the stuff already in the composing phase and allowed us to have some basic pre-production. I think the critical aspect for us while recording and producing our own album is that during this process we can’t work on anything else in the studio. And we rarely can afford that, because we also have to have our basic incomes. But we managed well all the things, made this record and we’re pretty happy about it.
I can’t define what style of music Dordeduh plays, but it hits all the right spots for people that love both folk, and metal music, with the mystery of ethnic elements. If any sort of umbrella term would fit its folk metal, yet I always feel that there’s a massive discrepancy between a band like Dordeduh and some guys in pirate costumes who happen to add a tin whistle. Your music feels like a whole, where you can’t separate the elements. Nothing is added. How do you realize that sound from songwriting to production, is it the original vision or do you layer the elements and ethnic instruments?
I think the key element in making all these materialize is to preliminarily have a vision of what one wants to achieve, as detailed as possible. Of course, while the process starts to form a body, the vision gets from the realm of the ideas to something concretely manifested and the image becomes clearer and clearer. At that stage sometimes an added element can improve and support the overall image.
On the other hand, this used to be the job of a producer for the cases of the bands that preliminarily had no vision, or had only a general vision about what they want the next album to sound like. The producer was the one that shaped the whole production in certain directions. Nowadays producers exist only in the area of a big-budget production. On the any other cases, this input could come only from sound engineers who are willing to dive into producing and mixing an album. In the underground scene, it’s close to impossible to find a good producer. And that’s because of a very simple and pragmatic reason: there are no budgets for producers anymore.
Can you perhaps tell a bit more about the instruments you use, such as the Tambal, toaca, tulnic, nai, dube and timbale (etc.) and what they mean or tell in your music? I read somewhere that there is a reflection of different places and regions in your music, which is hard to detect for those not in the know. Is that something you are willing to expand on?
I know that it’s probably hard to imagine, but we don’t use these instruments because we have to use them in order to be cool, different, exotic or name whatever other label. It’s used to enhance a different state, to put more emphasis on certain aspects and so on. We never planned anything regarding these instruments like: “this album should be more folkish”, or “this song should have more traditional instruments”. I want to keep a nice balance between the instruments. I only use them where they are relevant. I prefer to have a general vibe of good taste and not overdo them on the whole length of the album.
The “tambal” is a hammered dulcimer that is present in traditional cultures from all around the world from east to west. The instrument has some variations that varies from culture to culture. With the “nai” it’s the same story. The nai is a panflute that is found in different shapes, materials and sizes around the world. We also use traditional flutes that are pretty specific to our culture, but similar instruments are again found in many traditions. The “toaca” is a hammered wood that nowadays is used in orthodox churches. It’s not really known as an instrument, but it’s dated in ritual contexts for thousands of years. I remember that I envisioned having this instrument present in my music since the first album. I always found it’s percussive sound appealing with huge amounts of long reverb on it. The xylophone, the timabels or “dube” are usual percussion instruments. The types of “dube” we use come from Romanian oldschool fanfare kits. The “tulnic” is probably the most Romanian instrument we use. It’s originated in the Apuseni Mountains and initially, it was a tool to transmit different signals between the villages in different hills or mountains. It’s interesting that in our culture it’s attested that it was mainly used by women and it’s known through history that there were choirs of women who were playing these instruments. It’s the first instrument we used and again I always envisioned that image of a distant mountain where these beautiful songs were played on this instrument.
-The spiritual aspect is very important to you. You’ve also stated that in writing ‘Om’, you meditated a lot. I was curious what you talk about when you mention spirituality?
Yes, spirituality is important for me. I rather dislike using this term because it’s vague. Generally speaking, I prefer to keep this subject to myself. And I do it so because it’s really easy to be placed in contexts that I actually don’t belong. Considering the criticism and the opinion entitlement that everyone has these days it’s probably the worst environment to be mentioned with these kinds of subjects. For me this aspect is a private one, I don’t want to convince anyone to do anything, I don’t feel that I have to prove anything to anyone and I definitely don’t feel that by having a spiritual interest I have something more than other people have. Spirituality is not a virtue by default. It’s a predisposition like any other predisposition. But through practice one can make it a virtue. So, talking about this has no relevance; practice on the other hand has all the relevance.
The ethnic aspect of your music is another thing that fascinates me. As I perceive it, this is very much connected to the land itself, to regional identities and particularly to nature. I’ve read some strong opinions on the state of our world and nature and I wonder how important this is to you as an artist, but also in the music of Dordeduh.
Until I had kids I preferred to not have any kind of convictions concerning the outside world. Nowadays, having a family I started to form and voice my opinion towards different things that are happening in my country and around the world. At this very moment, the outside world got to be quite intrusive and started to affect more and more the inner world, especially with this pandemic context. All the artists around the world are strongly affected by this new context. Even before the pandemic, the artistic profession was already nearly impossible to be sustained, now anything related to arts is almost eradicated. And if I see it from a factual point of view, I can’t predict a bright future.
Your music breathes an identity of Romania, but how has your country changed since your previous record, and has it affected your music and perception?
Happily, we’re not very tuned with the social, cultural or political life of Romania. I admit that I live in my own bubble, secluded from most of the trends that apply to most of the people. This is a good and bad thing in the same time. It’s good because we’re dependent on very few things around us and it starts to be bad in the moments when we’re inevitably confronted with the reality we’re living in.
I’ve got my tickets for Prophecy Fest and I was happy to learn you are part of the Prophecy roster (which I had missed because I forgot Lupus Lounge is one of the iterations). I feel it is a great label and a perfect match for an artist that defies the definition. How is your relationship with the label?
Our relation is pretty straightforward, quite transparent and if there are any kind of misunderstandings or differences of opinions we found a pretty flexible team at Prophecy. Another aspect that I appreciate with them is the fact that they support “unusual” ideas. If we come up with a crazy idea they don’t dismiss it right from the start. They are willing to experiment and they are usually open to new ideas and weird projects. So, we can’t really complain about them.
I sincerely hope we can go enjoy the festival and I can finally hear Dordeduh live. You will also be playing Negura Bunget songs. What is it like to play music from that band for you now, so long after the split? And have you played in a cave before? Apparently, no one had asked Mortiis to play in one before the 2019 edition.
I look forward to the event especially because it’s going to be a special show for us, but also it will be an opportunity to meet up with friends that I wasn’t seeing for some time. Playing Negura Bunget songs seems to me a bit un-actual; it’s a part of our past that defined us for that time around, but not very representative for what I am nowadays. And don’t get me wrong: I love those songs, I even love playing those songs nowadays because I feel I can have an expression that is much close to the initial aim of the songs. It’s also a big and important part of me and my personal history. But nowadays I would like to focus more on the future and less on that past. I personally hope that this will be the last time I will play Negura Bunget songs. Unfortunately for me, my colleagues have a different opinion.
A hard question to answer, but what are your future plans?
Having close to no predictability for the future, all that we can do is to be prepared for any possible live activity. For that we prepared two possible sets, one with a reduced budget for promoters, where we offer a reduced travel party and we play with a minimal setup and line-up. The other one is a bigger production, with a larger travel party and with an extended setup and line-up for the shows. Another thing we can do is to prepare the work for a possible new album and start this process as soon as possible to have a minimal gap between the albums.
If Dordeduh was a dish, a type of food if you will, what would it be and why?
It would certainly be a simple dish with a lot of subtle colourful tastes Why? Because I think our message is simple and can be heartfelt, without falling into much intellectualization, but it contains a lot of layers that reveal a lot of details.
I always find Friesland a fascinating place. Perhaps it is a bit of jealousy of its own uniqueness, its cultural uniqueness. Maybe also a piece of provincial sympathy, I wish Brabant was such an island within our country. What I did not know is that Friesland crosses the border. And not only in the region called Ostfriesland, there is more and that brings me to Friisk. From Nordfriesland, and that’s about how far you can go and that it’s just not Denmark.
In 2018, the band came up with their own variant of black metal with the record ‘De Doden van’t Waterkant’. I listened to it, penned something on my blog and didn’t think anything else of it. Friesland, after all, has always been a healthy ground for Dutch black metal, although often overshadowed by the more central regions of the country. But with ‘…un torügg bleev blog Sand’ I got the band in my sights again. The language was fascinating and the band was, despite a busy time, willing to answer some questions. This busy time also had to do with a show in ‘our’ Friesland with Kjeld.
Anyway, enough introduction, time for the interview itself.
Northsea black metal from Friisk
How are you guys doing under the circumstances? Did the pandemic greatly impact your plans as a band?
Moin. Thank you for having us. Fortunately, we finalised the songwriting before the pandemic started to rage and we were also able to use the advantage of the relaxations in late summer 2020 to join up Andy Rosczyk in his studio in Cologne to record the album. Just before the “long lockdown” in late fall/winter… From this point of view, COVID-19 had not a really great impact on our record itself, but of course, we suffer from the actual circumstances and wish that we can overcome the pandemic and come back to normality.
How did you guys meet and get started as a band and what musical backgrounds do you have?
With the exception of J, we have known each other for many years and have made music together in other constellations before. But in the end we all share the same enthusiasm and passion for metal music, and so over the years we developed together the sound we play today.
You’ve released ‘…un torügg bleev blot Sand’this year, which is a fantastic piece of black metal, dense with atmosphere, yet never too dreamy. What can you tell about the recording process of this album?
We recorded ‘…un torügg bleev blot Sand’ together with Andy Roscyk (Ultha) in the Goblin Sound Studio, Cologne, which has been a great pleasure for us. Since Andy has already been responsible for the mix and mastering of our previous outputs ‘De Doden van’t Waterkant’ and ‘Kien Kummweer’, we intensified that cooperation this time and took a total of five-weekend sessions to ensure sufficient space for concentration and creativity.
You’ve specifically mentioned in the accompanying notes that the sound is deeply inspired by classic German black metal. Which bands are for you the inspirations for that sound? And what newer bands would you say are formative?
Every member has his own preferences, but I think that bands like Naglfar, Lunar Aurora, Secrets of the Moon, Helrunar and Nocte Obducta would fill a playlist that every one of us would feel comfortable with and which have been an inspiration for our current sound. Of course, a lot of “younger” bands or styles of Black Metal have influenced us too, but in this context, it is a little more difficult to highlight individual band names. Ultha certainly belongs to them.
What I find particularly interesting and what made me want to know more is your theme and origins. You use various languages to express yourselves, which in itself is interesting. Could you say something about that choice?
Among ourselves we usually speak German, but (almost) all of us are also able to speak fluent Low German, as the regional dialect is still very common here. And if you refer thematically to the landscape in your home region, nothing can be more authentic than your original language. Therefore, it was natural for us to write some lyrics in our native dialect. In addition, we would like to contribute to keeping our old tongue alive. The Seelterks lyrics go primarily back to T. This almost extinct dialect is a remnant of an original Frisian language which is spoken only by very few people in a small area in Northern Germany.
While black metal never suffered from interest due to inaccessibility due to languages, would you still be willing to express something about the nature of the stories you tell on the album?
There is a deep common understanding among us about what could be suitable for Friisk when it comes to lyrics. We try to keep away from simple or used-out allegories and want to tell little stories we can identify with. I think the German language offers a lot of stones that may let you quickly struggle into a cringe and disgusting direction, therefore we are very happy with the work of T. and the way our lyrics have developed over the years. Each song follows a lyrical theme, of course, but also leaves enough room for each listener’s own interpretation.
How did the concept of Friisk develop from the initial EP, which made me think you were a Dutch band, to the current album? It appears that the significance of the regional expression has grown. I’m also interested in how that impacted the music.
Already in the run-up to the songwriting it was an important concern for all of us to deliver with the first complete album a well-rounded and coherent body of work, in which every song has its raison d’être and doesn’t just “grind out a few minutes of additional playing time”. This was admittedly very ambitious and at times anything but easy. But all the work was definitely worth it, the feedback on the album is overwhelming. Even though in retrospect our EP may seem less regionally expressive because we worked less with different languages, but this time we bring ourselves to the level we focused on. In general I can say that our interest in regional history and culture is coming from heart to mouth. Nothing could feel more comfortable for us than bringing our Frisian mentality into music.
From this point of view, everyone here lives from and with the sea. Therefore it felt natural for us to use impressive but also oppressive paintings of the sea.
You guys hail from, according to the internet, the town of Leer, which is in the Saterland. I was vaguely aware, being Dutch, that Frisia didn’t end at the Dutch border (in fact there’s a whole province in between, but that’s another matter). I knew about the North-Frisian language group, but Seeltersk of Sater Frisian had escaped my attention. Would it be possible for you to tell me a bit about it, it’s history and why it’s so important for you to give these roots expression in your art?
The Sater Frisian lyrics and influences all come from our lead vocalist T., who has his roots in the municipality of Saterland, home to the smallest recognized language minority in Germany. Sater Frisian or Seelterks is the last variety of the origin East Frisian languages and until today still spoken in the Saterland, which once also belongs to the Frisian Sealands, a historical union of traders and chiefs that reigned the region politically. Except for T., we all originally come from different communities and counties of the region East Frisia, and for more than ten years the city of Leer has been the place where we meet, as it is somehow in the middle for all of us. Leer itself is located in the south of East Frisia, very close to the Dutch border (approx. 70 km east of Groningen). However, no origin Frisian languages are spoken in East Frisia today, they have been displaced by regional variants of the Low German over the centuries. But they still show characteristics of the previous languages and differ significantly from ordinary Low German. This probably explains why we use Low German in the first place. It differs a little bit from town to town and our version may contain influences from different regions in East Frisia. The Seeltersk dialect on the other hand is still even for the other members a challenge and until today something very special.
The Seelterks lyrics go primarily back to T. This almost extinct dialect is a remnant of an original Frisian language which is spoken only by very few people in a small area in Northern Germany.
Though Saterland lies inland, the artwork on your EP and LP depict the sea. Is this showing a broader interest in the Frisians and their connection to the sea?
The Frisian history generally connects you to the North Sea. It has always been above everything as a useful but also very unpredictable force of nature and has shaped the country and its people for centuries. While old seaport towns such as Emden or small traditional fishing towns such as Greetsiel have a direct connection to the North Sea due to their location, regions in the south like Moormerland or the Saterland, on the other hand, had to dig miles of canals to ship their goods like peat into international waters. From this point of view, everyone here lives from and with the sea. Therefore it felt natural for us to use impressive but also oppressive paintings of the sea. And in my opinion, the artworks have a very high recognition value, not least because of the chosen painting style.
Can you say a bit about this choice for the ‘sketched’ drawings, which are far from a cliche in the black metal scene, particularly since they don’t depict fantastic beings or so.
We are more than satisfied with the artworks of all three outputs so far. They all fit stylistically very well together, which was in a way intended. We all like this rather simple style of painting very much, as we think it has something attractive and oppressive at the same time. Something that can be transferred to the North Sea. At this point, we would like to take the opportunity to thank Chris from Misanthropic-Art, who has turned all our ideas into a set of unique artworks, far away from known stereotypes and incomparable in their own way. And this despite the fact that he works for so many other quite interesting bands.
Hopefully, you’ll be on the stage in October with none other than Kjeld from West-Frisia. Are you in touch with bands like them who also deal with Frisian language/culture in their work?
With our former band, we once played with Vike Tare from Wilhelmshaven, who deal with very similar topics. But they don’t use dialects or old languages as far as I remember. Nevertheless, we love to share the stage with bands that pursue similar interests, and we are all looking forward to that date. Evenings like the show in Drachten with Grafjammer and Kjeld offer a good opportunity to get in touch.
What future plans does Friisk currently have?
We’ve released three outputs so far and cannot wait to perform these songs on stage. We are open for requests and hope that we can have a good time together with people who share our passion for music. Currently, there is a lot of planning that happens in the background and we are optimistic that we can present our debut album with an appropriate number of shows in the next time.
If your band was a dish (a type of food), what would it be and why?
I would say we are a Queller, a grass that grows in the Wadden Sea. It’s something very natural that emerges from the sea, but not the first thing you associate with it.
Slovenia is a country in the south-east of Europe, one side facing the Alps, the other facing the Adriatic sea and the Balkan. Seceded from Yugoslavia early in the turmoil that tore the rest of the federation apart, Slovenia is a bit of a story on its own, having had independence since 1991 and paving its own way to be named the most sustainable country by 2018. Pretty rad if you ask me.
Malorshiga is a band, playing Istrian ethno black metal, by their own accounts. They hail from the area of Slovene Istria, which is the coastal part of the country. Their music explores deep emotional journeys, against the backdrop of the country’s long history which goes far beyond the federal and communist days to ancient times.
Having released their debut in 2019, Malorshiga reminds the listener of a bridge between the Greek masters of Rotting Christ and the Alpine bands from up north. Yet distinct sounding, Malorshiga is a force onto themselves. While the pandemic has severely hampered their rise, the band are now getting back on track and are willing to share something about their illustrious background. Dizghrazia (drums) and Oelka (vocals) provided answers, with additions from Mizheria (bass), Verghogna (guitar) and Dishpiazher (guitar). Where sometimes an interview is like pulling teeth, that was not the case here. Malorshiga goes deep. Thanks to them for their time and detailed response.
Hails Malorshiga! It seems it has been quiet for you since the release of your album. How are you guys doing?
Hello Guido, first of all, thank you very much for reaching out and for your patience whilst waiting for us to put this together. Really appreciated. It’s been an interesting period since release to say the least. After releasing the album (October 2019) we managed to play a couple of headline shows, a festival and pulled off a weekend trip to the Czech Republic.
Things changed in mid-February for well-known reasons. It seems like we as a society seldom remember how the world got very confusing very fast.
We took the concerns pretty seriously – limiting social contact and therefore not practising as a band for the better part of 2020. We decided to end the cycle for Kvlt of Vitis et Olea on its first anniversary – instead of “pissing against the wind” and trying to book shows in an ever-changing intricate bureaucratic reality, we decided to lay low and focus on our sophomore release.
Most of the band is concerned with the initial phases of their professional careers, while Dishpiazher, the one who’s probably having the most fun of all of us right now is exploring the Baltic while wrapping up his studies.
Can you tell me a bit about Malorshiga, how the band started, the origin of the name and why you chose this musical direction and theme?
Dizghrazia: The beginning of the band was a bit hectic since everything happened very fast. My family is pretty active in their home community and has been part of the core organization team of a yearly event called “šagra”. A šagra is, traditionally, a festivity held in villages where people gather on a dance while an ensemble performs old-people music. They take place every summer on the name day of the local church’s patron saint. As you can see, it’s very old-school.
The 2017 šagra was right around the corner when the organization team decided that they won’t be doing a 2-day event, as they usually did, and that they would like to have the younger generation curate the Friday program with something … a bit different. That’s when things just clicked.
Me and Oəlka fantasized about starting a project for a couple of years beforehand, developing a rough conceptual framework around Istria, our place of origin. We took that opportunity to start that project and have our debut performance on that year’s šagra, which would be a black metal concert. When we presented this idea to the organizational committee they first though we were kidding, but as they realized we were actually serious and we explained how tough it is for newer generations to experience this kind of music being performed live in our region, due to clubs being very hard to approach regarding the organization of metal gigs, they had our back.
We formed a lineup on the same day since we are all basically a collective of buddies who hanged out quite regularly and went to gigs together. It was a pretty incestuous thing, since some of us has had other projects with someone from the band in the past – we always mixed and matched in various occasions but never managed to play all together. The lineup was thankfully on board basically instantly, which was the best possible thing at the moment because there was a far more pressing issue – we had two weeks to organize the whole event and prepare our set.
All except 2 songs from Vitis were written in that period, hence you can fairly say that they are not the most prolific of musical compositions. However, we kind of wanted to keep them as a reminder of that moment.
Regarding the name – we actually can’t remember how the name was chosen, we just needed to put a logo together in order to print the posters and create the promotional material for the event, so it basically just happened by itself. Malorshiga is a compound word. Malora means somethingreally, really bad – from an etymological viewpoint it is itself a compound made out of male (bad) and ora (hour) in Italian. The suffix shiga is invented – it is used to give emphasis on the word’s root, while also achieving an interesting phonemic effect in our dialect – the word sounds like something animate because of it, so you could say that Malorshiga means dread incarnate or misfortune materialized.
The musical direction was a byproduct of the theme and the idea for the live performance – something theatrical, dark and with a possible mystic, primal undertone. We have a pretty varied music taste, but we’ve somehow decided that black metal could be a great foundation to experiment on. The project served as a vessel to venture into the Istrian history, explore what shaped this corner of the Earth and what hardships the people who inhabited this beautiful region endured.
Can you tell me a bit more about your origins in Slovene Istria? Most people will know Istria for its Croat part, so for me, there is little known about your particular region. It would seem that it is distinct from the rest of Slovenia?
Dizghrazia: Geographically, Istria is a peninsula at the northernmost part of the Adriatic Sea in the Mediterranean. It has a distinct climate, soil, vegetation, and culture. Politically, in the past this territory was under foreign rule and as empires came and went, we now find Istria divided between Slovenia and Croatia. It is in itself a very varied and colourful place, with many different dialects, many different traditions and many different people.
People from the Slovene Istria usually (somewhat jokingly) like to think of themselves as not really Slovene, since “whoever lives above the Karst edge (the geological border between the flysch coast and the karstic regions of continental Slovenia) is Slovene, we are Istrian”. It’s a common way to jokingly express a deeper connection with people who have the privilege of inhabiting this beautiful region.
Otherwise, the people are very warm, welcoming, friendly, and open. We are used to being surrounded by many different cultures, especially given the proximity of Trieste, which was a very cosmopolitan multicultural hub during the Austro-Hungarian rule. But the thing that really sets Istria apart from the other parts of Slovenia is the climate and the vegetation. To be honest, Slovenia in its entirety seems like something straight out of a fairytale – nature is just mesmerizing, but Istria, especially in the more rural areas, still untouched by modernization and over-building that characterizes the coast, is full of vineyards and olive groves.
We have been the only part of the country that has no snowfall in winter (well, by the looks of it, sadly this won’t be something exclusive to us in the future) and the quality of the air is something on a whole other level.
We are the seeds the gods planted in this soil, our home is this land and the skies above …
Istrian folklore is a big part of your thematic content. I, and probably many others, am not familiar with any of this. Can you shed some light on the basics of this folklore and how it translates to your art? Do you recommend any books or resources for those who want to know more?
Dizghrazia: The basis for everything is the sea, olive groves, vineyards and the people that work the land. The past has obviously been dominated by agriculture. However, the Istrian people had different “specializations” to say, compared to the classic agriculture and livestock common in the continental areas. They also engaged in fishing, saltworks, viticulture and olive growing, just to name a few. The folklore revolves around the hardships of working the land, everyday survival without all the gadgets we take for granted today, nature and people. We try to explore these feelings and capture them in our music and lyrics.
Oelka: We must mention the legend of Aepvlo, the last king of the Histrii tribe, to whom our upcoming song is dedicated. After being defeated by the Romans, he fled to Nesactium, the Histrian capital at the time. Before conquering Nesactium, the Romans destroyed other important Histrian cities. Later on, in 177 BC, the siege of Nesactium happend. The Histrians, of course, decided to fight, rather to surrender – hence the Istrian saying ’’Krepat ma ne molat’’ (To die, but never surrender). They killed their women and children and threw them from the city walls, so they wouldn’t be killed by the Romans. When Aepvlon realised they had lost, he is believed to have committed suicide by stabbing himself with a sword to avoid Roman captivity.
Dizghrazia: The problem with books is the fact that the majority of the material written in English or translated is focused on tourism. You may find bits of information with the general descriptions of the landmarks and some brief excerpts of history, but, to the best of our knowledge, there are not many books in English with any in-depth content. The best way to learn more about Istria is to come here explore and visit museums in Slovenia and Croatia, with a competent knowledgeable guide that will be happy to answer any questions.
You’ve released ‘Kvlt ov Vitis et Olea’ a while ago. Can you tell me more about the story you are telling us on this album?
Dizghrazia: It’s a collection of vignettes, of moments and feelings, as expressed above. The stories are based in reality, dealing with real-life issues, but the content itself is a product of our imagination. Each song presents a story, all of them are dealing with dark subjects, let’s say, a person sitting under a pergola, utterly broken because his wife and child were killed during a raid, or a person dealing with the thoughts of suicide ultimately deciding to hang himself off a branch of an olive tree sitting on top of a cliff. The title song is an introductory piece to our little universe, being the only song with lyrics in English: We are the seeds the gods planted in this soil, our home is this land and the skies above …
What was the process of writing and recording the album like? Do you have a cooperative approach as a band, or does everyone has their part to play in the creative process?
Dizghrazia: As we said before, all but two songs were written in the two weeks before our debut performance. The music for Vitis was written by me and the lyrics were written on a hot summer night with some glasses of wine at Oəlka’s home by the two of us, while laying out the plan for Črna Šagra. The other songs were made on the spot in the rehearsal room, Verghogna laid out the guitar riffs and gave direction for Mizheria’s bass lines, while I handled the drums and Oəlka the vocals. We discussed possible hooks and improvised, but at the end we did what felt most natural in the spur of the moment.
Dishpiazher joined the band sometime in the future. Funny story – on the way to the rehearsal room he and Verghogna had a minor vehicular mishap – he was trying to give way to a guy in a jeep on some very narrow country roads and was not aware that there was a small ledge just at the edge of the road. They ended up stuck there, but the jeep guy managed to get them out. Meanwhile, Oəlka and Mizheria were already at the destination, I called with the heads up of what happened and Oəlka wrote the lyrics about how an old cart fell off a cliff, Dishpiazher came out with some riffs and that’s how the song (and the alter-ego) Dishpiazher was born.
The album recording itself was also pretty hectic. We were on a tight self-imposed schedule timed in conjunctions with some headline shows. Verghogna recorded guitars at home, while I crashed at his place clicking drums and getting everything ready for the mix/master, Mizheria sent the bass DI’s, and Oəlka recorded the vocals at our former rehearsal studio. Dishpiazher was not actively involved in the recording process, being a relatively fresh member and not yet knowing the ins and outs of the other songs. We sent the recording for the mix/master to Jan Bajc Funa and provided feedback. We made the graphic layout while the artwork itself was commissioned to a dear friend of ours, Urška Vidmar.
Otherwise, the songwriting for the sophomore release has been way more relaxed, very cooperative and methodological. We are quite excited in seeing how things are shaping up.
I’ve seen some pictures of your live performances emerge, which seem to have multiple ethnic/ritual elements it seems. You raise horns in a symbolic gesture, which is as far as I know, something that ties into deep mythology around the Mediterranean. There are also masks that evoke an idea of other ‘cultic’ movements that predate or Christian past. I would love to know more about these elements of your show and why you choose to include those.
Oelka: The horns I raise during our live performances are boškarin’s horns. Boškarin is a famous Istrian cattle, one of the oldest and largest cattle breeds in the world. For me, personally, the act of raising its horns symbolizes the grandiosity of nature and its ability to overpower mankind.
The mask wear is ornamented with drawings of olive branches and tree roots, which symbolize sempiternity, immobility of the olive trees and impregnability of the Istrian consciousness.
We also cover the stage with fishing nets. Besides the aesthetic purpose, the nets indicate the feeling of being trapped and powerless in the grip of eternal pain.
The olive branches, on the other hand, symbolize the sublime beauty of mother nature.
I’ve always, personally, found it difficult to deal with our history in the right way. The past is like one’s roots, you can’t change them and yet they play a big part in who you become, yet you didn’t earn any of them. I’m Dutch, which entails a rich heritage but also many atrocities. Our past, in a way, is, but it does cast a shadow. Istria similarly has a complicated and complex history. It’s been a cultural melting pot, but it also has seen an exodus not even a century ago. What does it mean for you to be Istrian? Why is it important to you to translate this heritage into your art?
Dishpiazher: I haven’t really thought about what being part of Istria, geographically and culturally, actually meant to me prior to becoming a member of Malorshiga. I suppose I always felt a slight, yet subconscious, belonging to the region. However, I haven’t actively explored these feelings. Now, I think I can cherish our dialect, cultural influences, natural landscape and the Istrian outlook on life and its challenges a lot more. To me, that is what being Istrian means. Through art we keep such heritage alive and perhaps even rejuvenate it.
Dizghrazia: No one gets to choose their own heritage, and this is what makes it hard to develop a healthy conception of it. Some people will feel ashamed of the privilege they are given, others will feel shame because of the very difficult living conditions they have been cast into. There is no denying that Europeans, regardless of class, are some of the most privileged human beings to ever have wondered about the Earth. Regardless, we, as we dare say the majority of people, always felt a slight, yet subconscious, belonging to the region, given that your outlook gets influenced by the space and people surrounding you. There always was a sense of community, of helping your own neighbour, of sharing a dialect and cherishing the cultural influences, natural landscape, to live in harmony with the people who inhabit the same space and to be mindful of the nature that enables all of this.
There is an increase of right-wing thought in Europe, which has had a big presence in many parts of the continent for years. How is that in your country and does it affect the music and music scene? Have you as a band dealing with ethnic elements ever faced trouble being misunderstood?
Dishpiazher: Our current government is quite right-wing and the political landscape has remained populated by the same old, obsolete and backwards people since Slovenia’s independence. There exists a left-wing opposition, but it is too fragmented and not unified enough. I feel that the most politicised section of the music scene resides in the underground, both the right-wing and left-wing currents. I suppose this is nothing new, for the underground has always been a place of activism, radical ideals and unmitigated expression. Unfortunately, right-wing ideology has found its medium even in our small extreme music scene. That is why I am very conscious of the fact that we are a Black Metal band. It seems that there is an automatic connotation attached to this genre that evokes the worst kind of stereotypes and misconceptions. That is why I think some people may erroneously perceive us as right-wing or just put us in the generic category of Slavic Black Metal bands with lyrics about nature, folklore, paganism and hateful politics.
Mizheria: I think that one of the reasons for connecting black metal to the far-right political ideology is that many NSBM bands ironically come from Slavic countries (Poland, Ukraine, Belarus, Russia, etc.) and many of them share the folkish elements in their music. Because of the small size of the black metal scene in those countries, some members of the far-right scene may be involved with other bands that are not necessarily political. Those kinds of bands then usually perform at the same shows/festivals as NSBM bands so they are also treated as such. This is why we are careful when choosing who to get involved with regarding live shows since we obviously don’t support any kind of extreme ideologies. Luckily we don’t have any well known NS metal bands, record labels or events – our metal scene is predominantly apolitical or left-wing in some cases.
Dizghrazia: We’ve heard rumours of being blacklisted by certain organizers, since, according to certain individuals who’ve got no idea about what we’re trying to communicate, we are supposedly right-wing, so … yes, we’ve been misunderstood, but that’s the stigma that comes with performing black metal. We write songs about olives and vines. The sea. The challenges of the everyday struggle for survival and the mental torture that accompanies such efforts.
Right now, Slovenia is being ruled by a right wing “coalition” which is composed of the biggest Slovene party and some other poor souls, who joined the coalition in order to keep receiving a paycheck until the next election. All they have to do is not oppose the main party, which stands for some pretty radical policies. This can be seen as an increase of right-wing policies, but it can also be seen as a natural reaction to a very vocal, and sometimes even aggressive, left-wing. The issues being debated are some of the biggest non-issues you can possibly imagine. Same rights for all individuals? Sure bet. But somehow there’s a big enough chunk of the demographic that opposes such changes. You may demand things to be changed as of right now, and the older, more conservative generation’s perception to shift immediately, but it is simply not possible. The left gets impatient, the right reacts. Reaction – counter-reaction. It all leads to a bigger gap and more radicalization – extreme left vs extreme right, with a desensitized silent majority quietly observing, not really caring about anything.
The whole point of a democracy is to communicate, share opinions and tackle issues together, but one side does not understand that it is very hard to change an old person’s conception of the world if said person has survived for this long despite this outlook and no change is really needed in their eyes. The same applies to not really self-aware individuals, who take pride in something like their nationality, which is literally the thing they needed to work for the latest.
Impatience is driving radicalization and if this is the way we are a collective are going to approach future challenges … there won’t be much of a future ahead of us.
What are other bands from your region people should definitely check out and why?
Elvis Šahbaz – he is just one man playing the classical guitar, but he is nonetheless amazing, expressive and authentic in the most relaxing way possible
Spiral Mind – a group full of young musicians who are pushing the boundaries and simultaneously mixing so many genres, layers and ideas without sounding tedious
Guattari – groovy, chunky and slightly off-kilter metal that makes you move whether you want it or not
Jan Sturiale – a very competent fusion guitarist worthy of much more attention for his intricate playing
Marko Brecelj – a veteran activist, performer, musician and overall oddball who despite his advanced age is able to capture the nonconformist spirit like few young artists can
Hei’An – a group of young, but experienced musicians, mixing progressive metal with some modern, black metal and electronic elements.
Spiral Mind – started off as an experimental project, but turned out to be so much more than that. The name says it all.
Second Chance Blown – melancholic industrial band that started flirting with dirty electronics and low frequencies, but then got strangled with the rusty guitar strings.
Guattari – the angriest band in the universe. Period.
Ater Era – Koper based black metal band with an unusual tendency towards psychadelic interferences.
NoAir – heavenly soudning alternative pop quartet
Omega Sun – weed and riffs
Zmelkoow – old local legends
Everything that was already mentioned, otherwise, in the broader Slovenian region, I’d warmly recommend Srd, Morost, Snøgg, Valuk, Grob, Agan, Kholn, Dekadent, Noctiferia, Mephistophelian, Within Destruction, Negligence, Teleport and Space Unicorn on Fire amongst others very hardworking bands. There are also other bands from the coast, which were active in the past, but are sadly disbanded, like Somrak, Grimoir, Krvnik and Torka.
There’s the perennial discussion of what black metal actually means. To me, it is about tapping into the mysteries that elude us in this hypertechno world, about finding connections to a greater whole and Malorshiga fits into that with the ethno element. Yet, others will say that if Satan is not a part of it, it’s not black metal. What is your opinion on this?
Dishpiazher: The clichéd and shallow representation of Satanism in Black Metal, or any type of music for that matter, has been irrelevant for decades and I don’t understand the appeal of it anymore. Its initial shock value has worn off and all that is left is a parody of a once rebellious answer to the Christian mainstream. To me, Black Metal can function as the sonic manifestation of certain feelings which dwell inside me and need to be released. Somehow, it is easier to accept and overcome periods of sombreness and numbness when you have their musical equivalents to listen to. That being said, I don’t really listen to such music regularly.
Mizheria: As Dishpiazher said – Satanism’s “shock value” kind of worn off through the years. Many new genres and mixtures of different genres came to light and the majority of them don’t involve Satanism. People started to enjoy different kinds of metal music thus distancing themselves from satanic themes. While I still respect old-school satanic metal bands (also those who still hold to the satanic imagery), I’ve outgrown the “rebellious satanic” phase and I wouldn’t include Satanism in my band.
Which bands do you feel take a similar approach and do you admire? Oelka: I am compelled by my heart and soul to mention Der Weg einer Freiheit, Schammasch, Bölzer and Mgła, the four bands that have influenced me the most in the past few years.
Dizghrazia: The bands listed by Oelka are the exact same that I hold in really high regard. We went to see all of them on different occasions and each experience was something that completely shattered our perception of music, expanding our horizons and giving us a very strong motivation to be able to convey such strong feelings and atmosphere. I’d add Ulcerate to the list and I think Oelka’d strongly agree, but we hadn’t had the privilege of seeing them perform yet.
It also needs to be said that all the band members have a pretty wild taste in music, which encompasses many genres that have nothing to do with metal. We all draw inspiration from very different sonic worlds, which can be somewhat felt as being limited by the context of having a black metal project. In the end, it comes down to the mutual process of creation, where everyone brings their own ideas, which are in turn shaped by everything we “consume” as listeners.
What future plans does Malorshiga have at the moment?
Dishpiazher: We are writing a new album.
Dizghrazia: … vir prudens non contra ventum mingit.
If you had to describe Malorshiga as a dish (a type of food) what would it be and why?
Dishpiazher: Pasta with truffles and olive oil. It looks like a simple and straightforward dish yet it has a distinct and slightly funky taste. Olive oil is the life force that runs through our veins and pasta is the fundamental building block of every living entity in this region.
Verghogna: Ombolo v testu z gobovo omako, I refuse to elaborate further.
Mizheria: Cherry tomatoes and mozzarella cheese with olive oil and basil served in a skull of boshkarin. Nice taste but frightful yet interesting appearance.
Oelka: Every nonna’s bobići.
Dizghrazia: An empty plate. Glad and mižerja – hunger and poverty.
I actually ran into Marton Saliba, the sole member of Saħħar, once upon a time during the Eindhoven Metal Meeting event. An event, where a small enclave of Maltese metalheads apparently sojourns to in order to get their fix of heavy music. Years later, I came across his latest album, titled ‘Tiġrif tal-Ġnus’, released in 2020. I felt the time was right to reach out and ask some questions. Though the album had been about for a while, time has stood still, so it’s fresh enough to dig into.
Maltese metal is a different beast altogether. It’s outward looking, diverse, inspired by the Brittish scene it would seem if you look at the heavy doom presence on the island. But Malta is a strange place, if you look beyond the touristy veil. It has a long history, a peculiar mixture of peoples and cultures, and an own tongue that is impossible to grasp. Interestingly, Saħħar chose to perform in that language.
Below you find the questions I asked and the answers given. Thanks to Marton for his time and make sure to check out his music.
Sonic Mirage of the Mind
Hails Saħħar, how are you doing? How has the pandemic treated you?
Greetings, I can’t complain at the moment, trying to keep my life in balance. Ironically, the pandemic gave me more time in my private life, with enough time to be creative, while my day job was unchanged, although it has been more stressful.
How did you end up playing and loving black metal? What was your musical path?
I’ve been classically trained in Piano and music theory since my childhood. But it was only after discovering metal in my early teens that my interest in writing music started to grow. By the age of 15-16, I already heard several black metal bands, and I also started learning the guitar, so I chose black metal as the genre to experiment on songwriting, and I haven’t looked back ever since. I tried other genres with varying personal satisfaction, but it’s black metal which I always return to.
You have two active projects, of which one is an international collaboration. You also had a project called Entität. Can you say something about what these projects represent to you, in particular Saħħar, of course?
They are all different creative outlets. At the same time, they all will probably bear some recognisable riffing style. Entität bears more melodic and progressive music, whereas Eerbaruh is relentless tremolo picking, with Saħħar being the more intimate musical outlet. I’m the guitarist in all three projects, with Saħħar being quite literally everything else. The additional projects also aid me in publishing more music that would otherwise make Saħħar’s discography more saturated than it already is. Finally, they serve as a great opportunity to meet like-minded people and see what our creativity takes us to.
Saħħar is me, and vice versa. Everything which comes out from Saħħar is always a reflection or sonic mirage of my mind.
What is it you draw your inspiration from?
When I’m in my songwriting phase, I try to avoid listening to other music because everything will become an aspect that could inspire my music. I’m musically influenced by a lot of factors to single out, but what inspires me is my drive to write music, my family and the need to explore more themes and topics and put them in more and more releases.
Having been to Malta for the Doom Days I noticed that the island has a vibrant and tight-knit metal scene. Yet, it focuses on classic heavy metal. Since you do Saħħar solo and perform in these international collaborations, is there no interest in black metal or what is that scene like in Malta?
Indeed, Black Metal is not the most popular sub-genre here. It’s not to say that there isn’t any contemporary interest either, but Saħħar takes up most of my creative time, and it’s not very easy to commit to other bands. That’s the reason for my relative absence from other local bands because international collaborations mean that I don’t have to leave my studio. There are other groups, with Martyrium actually achieving a decent level of success. But other BM bands have a more temporary project vibe, or they are run by one or two individuals, which severely limits their reach.
Before I ask you about your last album, I find it extremely interesting that you sing in Maltese. Using your own language is not an oddity in itself in the metal scene. Bands who use their native tongue have been known to thrive, but Maltese is a unique language. What made you choose this language?
Around the time I was scribbling my very first tracks, I was listening to several bands from the Norwegian Black Metal scene (as one does), and I noticed that most of these bands wrote most, if not all, their tracks in their own mother tongue, and I thought it would be a good idea, creatively speaking, to do the same with my project. I certainly was not thinking about future successes or failures when I chose so, but writing in Maltese was given its due recognition over the years, including award nominations.
Do you think other things that spring from being Maltese enter your music? Any myths, ideas or stories you have found shaping what you say with your music?
The very name Saħħar, was picked from local folklore, and there were other instances where I either wrote or was inspired by local myths. Themes vary quite a lot from release to release, but there will be a local mythology-inspired album in the future, I’m sure.
You’ve released ‘Tiġrif tal-Ġnus’ in 2020, your 6th full length, as I understand it. What are you telling on this album? What is its concept?
Its theme is Genocides and Massacres. I chose a few historical events, and I wrote the music’s words around these events. It was an attempt to show the true darkness in mankind. No occult, no magic, no religious mumbo jumbo, just the darkness plucked from our history itself due to mankind’s actions towards his own kin.
You also released a record with Eerbaruh. Would you tell us something about that?
It started as a happy accident, really, when I contacted a guy looking for a guitarist. It resulted in 4 guys pouring all their creative ideas into a short release to test the waters. The result was a really abrasive and intense release which I am very satisfied with the outcome… We are working on another longer release, but so far it seems to be a lot of hurdles in the way, which I hope we will overcome as a group soon. The same goes with Entität, to the point it seems that the band is disbanded, but that’s not the case just yet.
You released this record in the middle of the pandemic, was it on the shelf long before that, or did you create it during the problems? What were your process and creative trajectory like in this case?
Tiġrif tal-Ġnus was already in the works when the pandemic hit, and I simply stuck to a somewhat predetermined schedule. Truth be told, the creative process was not too different from previous releases, except for having more time to research the lyrics and less pressure in producing it, perhaps. With the exception of the second track, Nirien ta’ Smyrna, all the other tracks were written in roughly a short span of time. Then I focused on the lyrics and then spent the longest time producing the album while preparing the respective artwork in parallel.
Recently, you posted a blog about depression where you share your experiences in a pretty brutal and direct way. What made you open up like this, and do you feel that there may be a sort of suffering in silence thing going on in black metal?
I’m not quite sure why I opened up like that, but it certainly felt better doing so. I suppose I needed to clear the air after a hazy and dark chapter in my life. Kind of how one admits to himself that he has a problem in AA to help himself heal.
Yes, I have noticed that several one-man projects are being used either as a creative outlet or as a cry for help from people with mental health issues, and it has been occurring since the inception of the genre. Several individuals use the genre as an ‘edgy’ attempt, and unfortunately, that makes it hard to separate the bullshit from the ones with the real issues. My suggestion for anyone with depression or any other mental health problems is to seek help and not rely on music as a form of therapy. It can be quite effective in the short run, but otherwise, medical help will be needed.
I have this idea that most people who are into this kind of music are often in various gradations out of sync with the modern and fairly hegemonic world. It’s why there’s such a hunger for nature, spirituality, etc. What do you think about this?
That’s an interesting insight, one which I’m bound to agree with. Black Metal in itself is very individualistic, very close to the soul of who writes it, and has this Carte Blanche situation where anything you write about is fair game because it’s the individual expressing his deeper thoughts through the genre. Overall, Black Metal belongs to a world beyond (or beneath?) this one, where the petty, and weak whims of the contemporary human do not belong, and the genre actively opposes and rejects the notions. Unfortunately, that might also mean that some of us are somewhat detached from reality but, it is what it is.
What are your current future plans with Saħħar?
I have another album in the pipeline, already in its pre-production stage, as well as an EP or two. With the help of some friends, I am also laying down a script and plan for a proper music video, which will be a first for me, and hopefully, there will be some opportunities to return to the live stage.
If you had to describe Saħħar as a type of food, what would it be and why?
That’s an interesting question! I would consider it a Spaghetti Aglio Olio, Pepperoncino. Simple but not simplistic and great when done with passion with a lot of flavour and spice. I am biased, after all, being from the Mediterranean!
For those in the know, Death SS is a legendary band that you can not overlook when you look back on the history of heavy music. The name, always mired in confusing controversy, stands for In Death of Steve Sylvester (get it, (S)teve (S)ylvester). The band was founded in 1977, but it took until 1988 for the band to release the first album after a series of demos and rarities.
Even more rare is any clarity on the times before that, which Steve Sylvester, still the leading man in the band, was kind enough to fill in (albeit partly and often more confusing and obscure than you’d want) in his book on the history of the band. Read it and be hooked, because it is much like the stories about Kiss. Only here the occult is really the occult, the skulls and bones are really skulls and bones, and the weird stuff is… well just as weird (let’s face it, Kiss has a weird history too).
And now, we are at the point of ‘TEN’, the tenth album of the band. Before we continue to the interview, I have to share the press notes on this release:“X”, the number ten in the Roman numerical system, chosen to name this album, is not a random title. The number Ten symbolizes perfection, as well as the cancellation of all things. 10 = (1 + 0) = 1, illustrates the eternal starting over. Ten is the total of the first four numbers (and in our case the first four Albums / Seals) and therefore contains within itself the entirety of the universal and artistic principles contained in each of them. It corresponds to the Pythagorean Tetraktys which, together with Seven (the total number of musical / magical seals of our pact), is considered the most important number, as it is formed by the sum of the first four (1 + 2 + 3 + 4 = 10), thus expressing the totality, the fulfillment, the final realization…! The number 10 is divine because it is perfect, as it brings together in a new unity all the principles expressed in the numbers (or albums) from one to nine. Esoterically the symbolism of the decade represents the perfection relative to the circular space-time, or the divine immanence. Ten indicates the change that allows the initiate to evolve, grow and rise spiritually. It is the symbol of the totality of the represented reality. From a religious point of view it recalls the number of commandments that God entrusted to Moses on Mount Sinai. It contains the Unity that made everything and zero, a symbol of matter and of the Chaos from which everything came out. It therefore includes in its likeness the created and the non-created, the beginning and the end, the power and the strength, the life and the nothingness. There are also ten circles, the Sefiroth of the Tree of Life. In the Tarot the number Ten, which in the Major Arcana corresponds to the Wheel of Fortune (Arcane X) and to Judgment (Arcanum XX), represents the end of a cycle of experiences and heralds a new beginning. Finally in Dante’s Inferno, the tenth canto takes place in the sixth circle, in the city of Dite, where heretics are punished, that is, the rebels, the free spirits intolerant of Dogma, those who choose to take themselves out of the ordinary way, to which this work is dedicated.
I gather, that this is a fairly long intro, but I could hardly ask Steve to rephrase this in the interview, but here it is. What it tells you, that Steve put way more thought into the title than you’d assume, but also that Death SS may be about the show, shock and theatrics, but has a profoundly deeper layer to it and love for that which is dark.
Without much further ado, here is The Necromancer of Rock himself.
Hello Steve, how are you doing? How did you cope with the pandemic (this far)?
Hi! I did as practically everyone did, with patience and trying not to get discouraged by the absurd situation that has arisen. I have dedicated the unexpected free time to further devote myself to music and to my studies, and “Ten” is the result of these last two years …
You’ve just dropped your tenth album, titled unmistakably as ‘Ten’. There’s a lot of significance to this number, as you explain in the accompanying bio. It shows a side of Death SS that not everyone is aware of, which is the depth of thought behind the music.I’m curious as to what resources you have perused to come to this complex idea of the number.
It ‘s something that was born spontaneously .. While I was dedicated to the composition of the album I thought that this would be the tenth “seal” of the career of DEATH SS and this thing should not be underestimated. Gradually all the esoteric and kabbalistic references that are connected behind this magical number have arisen and this has provided me with a further input for the composition of my lyrics …
What can you tell about the creative process of writing and recording this album? Was the relative isolation helpful to you or detrimental?
I would say both .. It was helpful because it gave me more free time and concentration to devote myself to the collection of ideas for composing the songs, but it was also detrimental because it prevented the movements and the relative union between the members of the band because we all live in different cities, and therefore we had to work remotely.
I understand from another interview you did that the album follows a concept, as the songs are connected. Could you elaborate on this? How personal is this record?
“TEN” is personal to the extent that all the records I write are because they represent my mood of the precise historical moment in which I compose them. IT is almost a sort of concept album because all his songs are connected to each other by a common feeling, related to this particular historical period, dominated by the terror, that we have all lived and that in part we are still living today …. Both lyrically and musically there is, therefore, an alternation of lights and shadows, even if the latter often seem to prevail over the first. The mood is very “doomy”, even if there is no lack of power and energy and the desire to rebel and fight, which is the characteristic of all the “heretics” of the Rock people.
What can you tell about the track ‘Zora’? I’ve read your book, The Necromancer of Rock, so I am aware of your love for classic comics. I also watched the video, which I believe contains exactly what your vision of rock’n’roll is. I can only imagine how much fun it must have been for you, so what can you tell about this?
Yes, it was very funny shooting the ZORA video. As you said, the song is dedicated to the homonymous character of the Italian horror-erotic comics of the 70s and 80s, so I wanted to give it a vintage, sexy and ironic touch, like the comic in question …
What is the connection between heresy and rock’n’roll for you? I very frequently see those terms together concerning Death SS, so I’m curious about your thoughts about this.
Great question! The term “heresy” derives from the Greek “haìresis” which means “choice”, also in the sense of “turning”.
The heretic is who refuses to accept what is passed off as dogma or absolute truth, who is not satisfied with easy definitions or predefined schemes. Even in music. Being heretics is a way of life. It requires us to dig where someone tells us there is nothing to dig, to speak up when the others try to silence us, to be critical of any dogmatism and imposition.
The heretic is therefore a “free” man, because freedom, as opposed to power, generates a passion for public action and creative participation. For all these reasons I consider DEATH SS and all our followers as “heretics”…..
Death SS is still the horror-inspired band, that it was from the start. A band that delivers a performance. It’s been said that this performative side of rock music appears to be disappearing (Nikki Sixx actually writes that in the last edition of ‘The Heroin Diaries’). How do you feel about this? And how important is the visual aspect of Death SS?
The visual aspect in our musical performances is and will forever be a very important aspect to me. Since I was a child I have always been attracted to the glamorous and scenographic side of certain artists and I have incorporated this aspect into the DNA of my band. I would not be able to conceive DEATH SS differently!
Since reading your book (which was my ‘get to know’ Death SS moment) I try to explain Death SS as something akin to Kiss and Ghost. I very frequently see this comparison, so how do you feel about this? What are your thoughts on these bands?
Well, KISS have certainly been one of the sources of inspiration for the band, as well as Alice Cooper, all people who started doing what was then called “shock rock” before us, even if when I formed the band in 1977, I didn’t thinking at these artists, but rather at the SWEET, obviously in a “horror” version …..I like Ghosts. They came out long after us and from what I know, it was probably us who influenced them in some way.
Having mentioned those, it’s as if in the evolution of rock and metal, other bands choose punk or metal, and Death SS did something else. Paving the way for what was to come, yet never really challenged, sounding uniquely like yourselves on Ten. But what is that unique essence of Death SS and the drive behind its creativity?
Since from the beginning, I’ve never asked myself the problem of labelling what I was playing. It is difficult for me to channel my band into a specific musical genre. This is why I have always said that DEATH SS play “Horror Music”, because it simply means that we want to express certain atmospheres that draw from the esoteric and horror imaginary, in the freest possible way, obviously always with a Rock matrix.
What are the current future plans you have for the band? And in your personal artistic endeavours?
For now I’m simply promoting “Ten” which has only been out from few days. I’m waiting to see how things will go and above all I’m waiting to see if the concert situation can finally evolve without all the limitations to which we all was forced lately, in order to be able to do some important show …
Will there be more writing with adventures from Steve Sylvester?
Who knows? Maybe in another twenty years … Ha! Ha!
Would you say that rock’n’roll is the secret to keep looking as young as you do, or is it actual vampirism? You’ve been making music with Death SS since 1977, there are artists who started a decade later and look 40 years older than you. What is your secret?
Botswana is a metal country and that is something most people will not know. The African continent is not known for their wide range of metal bands, but Botswana is the exception. And while some bands have ventured outside their native boundaries to play their music, none has seen so much as Skinflint.
The band hails from Gaborone and has been around since 2006. Having just toured the USA, the group found itself stalled by the global pandemic. Nonetheless, the spirits are ever high in Skinflint and they were glad to answer a number of questions I had and share why they feel African stories are well-suited for metal music, what it’s like to tour with Soulfly and what comes next.
How is Skinflint doing? Has the pandemic been hard on you?
It has affected us all. But fortunately, we are all fine and getting back to making music again.
What got you folks originally into metal music? What made it such fascinating music for you?
Metal is music that breaks stereotypes and pushes boundaries. It was the best platform for our artistic expression.
I’m curious as to how Skinflint started as a band and how you managed to keep a rather solid line-up for so long. Though there’s a vibrant scene in Botswana, finding the right chemistry would seem like a challenge. How is that for Skinflint?
It is hard to find like-minded musicians here in Botswana as even though there is a dedicated Metal following, the scene here is actually small and does not get much recognition locally. I met Kebonye at a festival in Lobatse many years ago. Cosmos I knew him from another band he played for called Amok which disbanded. When Alessandra left the band I thought of him and asked if he wanted to try for auditions.
Musically, you are hard to place in one stylistic corner. But what I find very fascinating is that you take African mythology as part of your themes and topics in the music. I assume these are regional stories, because saying African mythology is as wide-ranging as saying European or Asian mythology, obviously. Could you say something about this and perhaps give a bit of a background for those not in the know on these themes?
Africa is a continent rich in myths and storytelling. Much of which has not been covered by mainstream media. I thought of incorporating some these tales into the bands music. I believe this gives the listener a new perspective to listen to Metal, and also bring to attention some of these tales. Some are regional, some are inspired by true events and others I have played around with.
Why is it significant for you to use metal to tell these stories? What do you want people to take away from Skinflints music?
The stories are raw, dark and strange. It fits the kind of Metal we play well. I hope to see these tales told in other art forms too. I hope people can find some inspiration in them and even incorporate them into their own works. Furthermore, I would love to see more of it, in music, art, video games, comics etc as I don’t see much coverage for them. This is why I have been consistent with them throughout my career. They are important to me and most of it unheard of.
After your last record, the self-titled album from 2018, your drummer Allessandra left the band. You have a new drummer now, has this impacted the direction or sound from the band much?
It has. But not too much. But not just because of her departure, but we feel like it’s time to try something new while still retaining the identity of the band.
Before Covid-19 hit, you guys were touring with your new drummer in the USA. What was that like, playing with bands like Soulfly? And since you got home on the 3rd of March, was it tense towards the end?
Playing with Soulfly felt like a dream. Coming from Botswana, the only place we see these bands is on YouTube or videos. Next thing, we are sharing the stage with musicians we watched growing up. The tour was intense and a vital part of the bands’ growth process. These are the things you cannot teach but need to experience in order to achieve a higher level of playing.
You’re now getting work underway on a new album. What can you tell us about it? Has your creative process been different? What can we expect?
The new album is almost done. You can expect the same raw energy the band is known for but with a few surprises. The songs are heavier this time around, with a newfound energy and chemistry within the band. You can hear a band playing with hunger and heart here. I am confident in the new material.
When do you think it’ll be out, and what plans does Skinflint have for the future?
Early next year. We already have some festivals booked in Europe, and then we hope to confirm further dates in the USA too, hopefully.
Botswana is one of the few African countries with a metal scene that is globally known and seen. While it makes little sense to treat it as an oddity, it is very distinct, DIY and creative. How are things there? Which new bands are coming up that people should know about?
We are proud of the scene here. With Covid hitting and the scene being on hiatus for 2 years now, nothing new has come out. It’s still the same bands that I know of. Check out Overthrust if you like old school Death Metal.
Your local scene was subject to numerous articles and documentaries. In what way has that impacted the metal scene? Has it been positive or negative?
On the positive, it brought attention to a scene that may not have been discovered in the first place. Some of it was really good. But on the bad side some of the documentaries were all about the imagery and completely excluded the music/bands. Skinflint has distanced itself from those, as we felt it was more like a fashion show.
If you had to describe Skinflint as a dish (a type of food), what would it be and why?
Braii. Putting meat on a fire in the middle of the bush. The closer to the bone the sweeter the meat becomes. That is what Skinflint sounds like. In fact, we have braii every time the band gets together to rehearse or record.
For those eagerly awaiting the release of Wardruna’s ‘Kvitravn’, it’s not merely a record on the purchase list for this year. There’s a significance to Wardruna’s music to its listeners that borders on the spiritual. It makes sense, as that is where the music by Einar Selvik comes from. It hails from a deeper place, where we reconnect with nature, our past, and the sanctity of the earth. And through the years, the audience for the Norwegian group has grown and grown.
‘Kvitravn’, release date 22 January 2021, heralds’ new beginnings. It’s the first full-length album outside of the trilogy. It breaks with the original project yet is a continuation. Interestingly, the title is the same as the nom de guerre Selvik used in his black metal days, as part of Gorgoroth, Jotunspor, and other projects. Things come full circle, as it is often in our ancient traditions, which are closely related to the natural cycles. Birth, death, rebirth. We spoke with Einar Selvik on the latest album, or complicated histories, his creative process, the sanctity of nature, and the messages in Wardruna’s music. Enjoy reading this, and keep your eyes peeled for the white raven.
Thanks to Paul Verhagen for the pictures.
Wardruna: myth, mystery & natural harmony
First of all, how are you doing?
I’m doing good. Of course, it’s been busy times with the release coming in. That’s a positive thing in my line of work. I’m chronically busy, actually. Not being able to tour and stuff like that, is of course, sad and strange, but I’ve been busy in the studio working with the music for Assassin’s Creed: Walhalla and stuff like that. So it hasn’t been a downtime at all—more than enough work to do.
You have the new album out now. What has the trajectory been like since the trilogy (Runaljod – Gap var Ginnunga, Yggdrasil, and Ragnarok) and Skald to Kvitravn?
In a way, for me, it is hard to separate this from especially the trilogy. It feels like a continuation. During those 15 years, I was so focused on the trilogy, but there were some things I wanted to do that I put in the drawer for later. Revisiting a lot of these ideas and thoughts was part of the process after the trilogy when I was thinking about what comes next. So, in many ways, it is a continuation. Perhaps, on this album, I go more into the details, the specifics, and the human sphere of things, our relation to nature, and how we define ourselves as a species according to older traditions. It’s more complicated than our body and consciousness, or if you are a religious person, you also have a soul. But in the old ways of seeing it, it is much more complex. The album sort of explores some of these concepts in depth.
There was a series of brief documentaries as part of the album’s promotion, in which you touch upon topics such as animism, traditions, and history. Are these aspects you are referring to?
Animism has always been central to Wardruna and what our music is about. It has been so since the beginning. The topics in that documentary are definitely the backbone of this album, but also relevant to previous works, I would say.
The topics you are working with are incredibly complex and hard to digest in today’s world. I’ve just finished the book ‘Children of Ash and Elm’, which is an excellent resource about Viking history. What one learns is how complicated and multidimensional. We know so little, and there’s so much more than warriors there. As an artist, do you feel the desire to go beyond that simplistic view and be properly understood?
I have the book too. Well, first of all, I have to specify I never intended to replicate music from a specific time period. I use instruments and ideas that go back to the stone age, the bronze age, the migration period, the Viking Age, and even modern times. The idea is that it is kind of timeless and still has the potential to speak to us in the same manner it used to do.
Yeah, I do feel a responsibility. I always say, don’t climb into a tree without solid roots. Doing thorough research into the musicology and the themes I’m working with, approaching them in a scholarly manner… So I have solid ground before I go into these intuitive and creative processes. That’s very much at the core.
As you say, it’s so much more than warfare; that’s just a small part of it. That’s one of the many reasons why I never use the word Viking to describe my work. I prefer the word Norse or whatever. Because defining a whole culture based on what a small group of people did for a short time, that’s entirely wrong. On a personal level also, I’m not so fascinated with that whole era and that warrior culture. It is interesting, and I understand this big focus on Vikings and warfare because they were rulers of their times in many ways. But still… If you would make a series or a game that would be authentic, it would involve a lot of time farming, cooking, or spinning wool, and that’s not so sexy in a way. It’s understandable, but I don’t share that fascination. For me, there are so many things that represent this culture in a more complete way.
There are actually simulation games like that. Yet, you did make music for the Assassin’s Creed videogame and, of course, the TV-show Vikings, which both, in their way, represent that cultural snacking and enable people only to take that element from it. Is that why you get involved in these projects because there is a certain contradictory element in there.
Yes, well…. You have to take it for what it is. The Vikings TV-show or a video game like that, for example, is made for entertaining the masses. For it to be a success in the modern-day, it needs to play on historical correctness and balance it with the modern notion of what that time is. You need both to make it catchy, and with that in mind, you have to deem and judge it by what it is. My expectation is not that they should make a TV-show to entertain only history nerds like me; that would probably not be a very successful show in a broader perspective.
For me, it is, as you say, an opportunity to highlight certain things, like the poetic culture, which is one of the things I really wanted to get across in both my work with Vikings and Assassin’s Creed. Of course, it’s Assassin’s Creed, so you see a lot of the fighting element, but I think they did a great job in including a lot of other things. On the musical side, I really wanted to give voice to the oral tradition, the skalds, which we often forget but were so central for the people, their culture, and the courts. Even for the aristocracy, it was a central part. This allowed me to actually give voice to them and give voice to that and how that culture might have been. I understand the contradiction, but I don’t see it as one. My expectations are based on what they set out to do and what is logical in contemporary times. In any case, I think it is a step in the right direction because they are, of course, removing some stereotypes… and perhaps creating new ones. But also illuminating them and creating a more nuanced view of the times.
Over to ‘Kvitravn,’ can you tell me what the white raven is and what it means to you? Though you have stated there is no relation to your black metal nom de guerre as Kvitravn and this record, it tells us how close this theme is to you.
It is; it’s what inspired me to take that name in the first place. I have long been fascinated by ravens, and I have a form of totemic relationship. Of course, the raven itself is such a central animal in the Norse tradition and mythology. Not only in the north but globally, the raven is seen as a messenger between this world and the next. In the north, it is seen as the trickster, the animal embodiment of the human mind and memory. So, it’s almost seen as the human in nature, in animal shape. It carries a lot of meaning, and then you have these sacred white animals, which is also a global phenomenon. Whether it’s white elephants, serpents, lions, or reindeer, they often come with a prophecy of some form of change, renewal, enlightenment, etcetera. The image of the white raven, the coming or return, labeling an album that, to me, is a powerful symbol and perhaps even a hope and call for change.
If you would condense it in a way to a modern factor of change, what is it that you hope people take from this? Because through your words, also in talking about animism and your creative process, which is so tightly interwoven with the connection to nature, I detect an environmentalist viewpoint.
You are, of course, correct. But I hate preaching or claiming to know any truth, saying what other people should do… But if my music has some form of a message within it, it would be that I do think it would be beneficial if we all had a more animistic view of the world. What I mean by that is the idea that nature is something sacred, something we are a part of and not the rulers off. That doesn’t have to be a spiritual or religious thing; it’s an attitude. The second we took that sacredness out of nature and put it up in the sky or completely disregarded it, that’s when we got into trouble. I think it would benefit us all if we all had a more respectful view of nature as something we are the caretakers of in a way. It’s something we should respect, something sacred in a way.
It’s simple. I think it represents all of my music. You can look upon many of these things as spiritual things, but it doesn’t have to be. It’s something that is relevant, whether you are a spiritual person or not. It’s an attitude, a philosophy; it’s something beyond those things. Timeless, universal, and highly relevant to all of us.
You spoke at Roadburn a few years ago about your creative process and explained the deep connection to nature when you actually compose and even record your music. For the video of Lyfjaberg, you climbed up a mountain. How was that during the creation of ‘Kvitravn’?
The inspiration can come from many things. As you say, perhaps my main muse is when I walk; it’s when I see and hear things. Sometimes it comes from the instruments, poetry, or the themes I work with have such a strong image that I see and hear the sound of it, and then it’s about chasing down these things. This album follows the same kind of creative concept, where the themes themselves find the instrumental needs, where I record, what state I’m in when I record. I try and go as far as I can in interpreting the theme I’m working with on its own premise. Capturing it, if you will.
Some recordings on this album have been done in places that have a connection to the theme I’m working with, the time of day, or a state of mind. It’s hard to give you concrete examples of it, but I still work in the same way. There are quite some recordings in forests, sacred places, and on burial mounds.
While listening to it, I felt more buildup and cinematic quality, if I can use that term, compared to the previous records. Do you think your other projects affect the sound you create in that direction?
I don’t think there has been any conscious decision on changing it. Of course, in everything I do, every song I write, I learn something from and build on in my work. That goes for everything in my life. I guess I’m always chasing this soundscape; I feel I’m getting closer and closer to my visions. I get better at replicating what is in my head when I’m inspired, hearing, and envisioning these songs. That’s an ongoing organic process, but not a conscious process of decisions. I try to let the song go where it wants to go, rather than me trying to give it any kind of shape.
You mentioned before not wanting to preach anything, and I want to get back to that for a moment. When you started Wardruna, it was singular, unique, and a new avenue. By now, Wardruna is a global phenomenon with dedicated fans around the world. Listening to Wardruna for them is usually not ‘just throwing on a record’; it’s more than that. Has this in any way affected how you see yourself as an artist and how you approach your art?
No, I try not to relate to that part. Fame, the growth of the band, that’s something I try to keep a distance from, especially when I’m writing my music. I’m not writing music for anyone else; I’m writing it for me. That’s my perspective. I’m writing music I want to hear, and if anyone can enjoy it, that’s fantastic, but not the reason I’m doing it. Which, I think, is a healthy way of looking at it.
I don’t think it would be good if I felt pressure to create this or that, to adapt my art in any way. I don’t compromise. But, of course, it is challenging. You meet a lot of people, and I relate to the fact our music is growing. Yet, I try to keep a healthy focus on it and not feed my ego; it’s not about that. I try to distance myself from that side of it.
What are the best compliments for you that you receive from listeners?
I don’t know, but it is always special to hear that people connect to it, which I hear often. It gives them something and awakes something healthy on a very personal level. That’s, of course, more than anyone can hope for. Many of these songs live their own lives in the world and give meaning to people. That’s a special thing and overwhelming in many ways.
This album has been ready to go for a while. You mentioned you’ve been busy, so I’m curious if you’ve already started looking for future musical directions for Wardruna?
To be completely honest, actually no. I’ve been so busy on the Assassin’s Creed project, which is an ongoing project. I’ve been very occupied with that, and this period has allowed me to pursue that in a more healthy way without touring on top of that. But, of course, if this period continues putting limitations on what we can and cannot do what we normally do, I will remain productive.
I always think about where to go and what things I want to do and give voice to. On a certain level, that process is ongoing, but I haven’t started recording or planning yet. I presume that is to come.
So those are my questions, just a personal anecdote I wanted to share. A few years ago at Roadburn, a photo exposition was posted, which giant concert photos. One photograph (by Paul Verhagen) of you displayed there was given to me as a wedding gift and now hangs in my living room. My 5-month old daughter has her playpen right beneath it and stares up at you a lot, to the point I’m worried she may be unclear which face is daddy.
*laughs* I’m honored to take part of your home. Give my best to your family!
Thank you very much Einar, best of luck on your release, and let’s hope things turn to normal so we can see Wardruna live again!
Same here! We always love coming to the Netherlands. We’ve always been received very well there, and it’s become our second home in many ways.
Vietnam is a far-away place and often our perception is limited to cinematic exposure and (in my case) snack food. I’m not stating this to make light of it, just to illustrate how little we sometimes may know about the world around us. Vong is a black metal project, hailing from the South-East Asian nation, and its sole contributor Indigo Tongue weaves the history and culture of his country into the tapestry of its music.
Vong has released a debut, titled ‘A Wander in Liminality’, in 2019. A record that stands on its own, with a distinct flavour and identity. I was happy to find Indigo Tongue willing to fill me in on its contents, the Vietnamese metal scene and more.
A Wander in Liminality with Vong
How is Vong doing? How has the pandemic been treating you?
Greetings, it’s been an honor to represent my home country and take part in your project.
Aside from not being able to hang out with my friends or jamming with my bandmates, I’m not really affected by the pandemic. Normally I work from home and staying in means I get more time to finish my artworks, record new materials, or tend to my cat and my plants.
Your moniker is Indigo Tongue, can you tell me what that means for you?
It was an alias that I picked for my illustration projects. It came to me pretty randomly and doesn’t necessarily mean anything much, other than bearing a mystic vibe to it. I figured it had a nice ring and decided to adopt it for the black metal project as well.
What got you into metal music?
I couldn’t say much, other than the fact that I developed a taste for it in my teenage years, just like most people. It started with something like Metallica or Black Sabbath and got gradually more extreme down the line.
Can you tell me how you started the project (which I understand is a one-man band) and what bands inspired you to make this kind of music?
It’s not hard to point out that I was inspired mainly by several second wave Norwegian bands, or specifically, the most notorious one-man black metal project that I need not mention. It was their sound that bought me: raw, uncompromised and gritty, cold and grim like a rusty blade cleaving into your flesh. What fascinated me was the fact that they made do with whatever equipment they had at hands, which was a similar situation that I found myself in: I was in college studying fine arts, all equipment I had around the house was a cheap guitar whose neck had broken twice and got glued back, a combo amp, my cellphone which I used to record everything and my laptop. So me, being a DIY guy, decided that I’d try to make black metal with whatever I had lying around.
At the same time, I found black metal to be the subgenre that I’m most comfortable with, compared to other subgenres that I had listened to. I’ve always been drawn to themes like romanticism, occultism, nature, death, human emotions,… and dark medieval aesthetics. Black metal just happens to have most of them to offer.
You’ve released your debut in 2019, titled ‘A Wander in Liminality’.
What can you tell about the process of creating this record?
Like I’ve mentioned, it was all DIY, from the process of recording, mixing to the artworks. It was a fun experience, as I was new to songwriting and audio engineering at the time so I got to experiment recording with a cellphone and fooling around in the digital audio workspace.
I built a pillow fort around the amp and just stuck the phone in to record it, and samples on the title tracks were from creaking cupboard doors, amp static noises and me gargling water over the phone. For the intro of the track “Lệ Chi Viên”, I used the bell and mokugyo (or fish drum, a small wooden percussion typically used in chanting and ceremonies) from the family altar (probably without my ancestors’ permission).
The creation of the artworks was my favourite too. They were all hand-drawn and took many weeks to finish. But the end results were worth it, I believe they were the best artworks I’d ever completed up to that point.Overall, it was a fun experience as I learned a lot about songwriting and audio engineering from it, despite the horrible sound quality, which was a result of recording on a cellphone.
Some of your song titles are in Vietnamese, yet your lyrics are in English. Why did you choose this language and not your own? Black metal has never had an issue with different languages, it would appear, so it would be a valid choice.
Vietnamese is a complicated and colourful language that works very much different from Germanic or Latin. For example, there are dozens of different pronouns depending on age, genders, relationships and context of the speech, which makes wording a chore. If I were to write a romantic poem in Vietnamese, it would flow elegantly like a petal in the stream. But we are talking about black metal, so the lyrics tend to focus on sorrow, war and hatred,… you know, the whole nine yards. Writing about such matters in Vietnamese often feels kinda cheesy (to me, at least). It’s just really hard to explain to non-native speakers.
But the most important reason why I stick with English is that I knew the majority of listeners were going to be foreigners because I was pretty much unknown in the local scene back then. I’d spent a lot of time on the lyrics, so I wanted them to be heard and understood. At the same time, most Vietnamese metalheads (or the youths in general) are capable of understanding English since they are no strangers to Western culture, so it’s a win-win situation.
I understand you are inspired by literature and history, specifically of your home country of Vietnam. Can you say something about this? And can you give some insights into what sort of stories and writers those are?
History and culture have always been among my favourite subjects, and when I took a look at our own history and customs, I found a lot of aspects that would fit well in the context of black metal. For example, over the course of three millenniums of our recorded history, we had fended off foreign invaders numerous times, got subjugated and revolted again and again until we gained sovereignty, which inspired a patriotic theme (not to be confused with ultranationalism) similar to those observed in some of my favourite projects. When it comes to history, I often draw inspiration from tragic events (foreign oppression, famine, persecution of innocents…) or decisive battles that shaped the country. Sometimes it was wartime stories from family members who served in the army as well.
Asides from history, I took inspiration from folklore as well, most of which however are orally passed on from one generation to the next, so no one really knows the dates or who the authors were. Typically these stories either serve as explanations to origins of beings, or fables that reflect the perspectives and moral values of Vietnamese people.
Like most Oriental cultures, our customs and beliefs are heavily based on spiritualism and have a connection to death and the afterlife, with rituals and ceremonies involving the dead. Although Buddhism is the most popular religion in the country, people found ways to integrate folk religions into it, like worshipping ancient deities and saints alongside the Buddha, or ancestor veneration, which is considered unique to the Vietnamese culture, also inspired the themes of Vong.
Vietnam is a country which is to most, including to myself, known mostly for the Vietnam war, which I’m sure has its reverberations to this very day. As you intentionally chose themes from your culture and the English language, is it a purpose for you to change of at least affect that view?
You could say so. Southeast Asian countries have a rich history and cultures but they are often overshadowed by East Asian nations. It wasn’t until the 50’s that we were actually recognized as an independent country internationally when the French colonialism was put to an end, and not until the breakout of the Vietnam War that we were put on the map. Yes, the Vietnam War very much shaped the country as we know it today, but I wanted to point out that there are much more to Vietnamese history rather than the stereotypical “American PTSD experience”.
You’ve also been active in Elcrost, which would seem to focus on a more western romanticism in the lyrics and themes. How did you get into this project and how does it relate to the obvious other direction you embrace with Vong?
It’s a small scene. I’d known the guys from Elcrost before joining their live lineup and we have been good friends ever since. At that point, we were the only two active black metal bands with original materials in the North, they needed session members for live gigs because two out of three guys were abroad and I’d need live members since I’m a one-man project. So we formed up as a 2-in-1 kind of lineup, where we’d perform songs of both bands at gigs under Elcrost/Vong, featuring members of Vietnamese bands like Rot (black metal) and Cút Lộn (thrash/punk) at the time.
Well, just because Vong embraces national history and culture, doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy Western literature and arts. After all both projects are influenced by Western arts and music. The only difference is that I chose to integrate Vietnamese themes in the lyrics. So even if the themes or music of both projects contradict, we share quite some common interests in visual arts and Romanticism. I very much enjoyed their materials and it was a great experience playing in their live lineup and taking part in their EP “Foregone Fables”.
What is it like to make this kind of extreme music in Vietnam? Is there a connection with surrounding countries?
Like I’ve mentioned, the extreme metal scene in Vietnam is relatively small, so as soon as you drop new materials you will certainly get support from the Vietnamese metal scene, which I find rather wholesome.
I’m aware of black metal acts in neighbouring countries like Thailand or Laos and to a greater extent, the Southeast Asia region. I have made contact with the Thai black metal project กาฬพราย (Kanprai), but other than that I don’t know much about connections between bands within the region.
How free are you to explore darker themes in your music? Is there censorship to take into account?
To a certain extent, but in general, it’s rather easy to breathe. Most extreme metal bands are under the radar of mainstream media so most people don’t know or care if you write songs about butchering humans or burning churches. They would just call it noisy or unintelligible music and turn their heads. But of course, censorship is a thing here and there are certain parts where one should tread lightly if you don’t want to catch the attention of the authority, i.e. controversial topics like politics or history of the past 70 years.
Vong is associated with House of Ygra. What sort of cooperation is this and how did you connect?
House of Ygra is a new label based in Hanoi, founded by members of the local scene. Their specialities are black metal, melodic death metal, gothic and experimental stuff, so naturally, I was offered to join their roster, which I gladly accepted. Their role is to produce and distribute merch like CDs, shirts and art prints for bands as well as taking part in visual designs.
What are the future plans for Vong?
I plan to save money for a recording mic and a proper bass (the bass on the demo was played on a guitar pitch-shifted an octave down), finish the artworks for CD releases, record another full length or two, probably another EP or a split before retiring it and move on to other projects.
If Vong was a type of food, a dish, what would it be and why?
Not exactly a dish but I’d go with green tea mixed with passion fruit juice and a spoonful of honey, solely because it’s my trusty beverage during vocal sessions.
Indonesia is a hotbed for metal, though black metal is rarer so I was surprised to find the debut album of Glora Nexus in my mailbox. The band from Jakarta is a solo project from Svarte, who is determined to pave his own path in the genre. The debut, ‘A Grand Monument To Mortality’ is quite an engaging piece of work, that combines a raw approach with an atmospheric sound. On the album, there are some guests contributing. Alexander Lexy from Blodwen plays the guitars on a track, Ragnar Sverrisson from Helfró joins on vocals, Teguh Permana from Tarawangsawelas plays the tarawangsa and finally from death metallers Devoured, Ardian Nuril Anwar joins in. It ads to the result, because the downside of a one-man band is that it often gets to be much of the same. Also, it adds a little death metal groove to the sound I feel.
Svarte was kind enough to answer a bunch of my questions, that came up. Well, most of them, as is his right as an artist to keep holding on to a certain mysterious side of the band. More than anything, I encourage you to check out the music. After all, that’s what this is about.
Glora Nexus and Indonesian black metal
How is Glora Nexus doing? How has the pandemic been treating you?
Hi, I’m still fine even though sometimes it’s very annoying to be in a pandemic situation that has succeeded in limiting the space for human activities. Thank you very much for this interview, I had fun answering it! Also, a very personal thanks to you and I wish you live much luck, keep supporting the underground!
What got you into metal music?
To be honest, “Ascension of a Divine Ordinance” was the first metal song I heard when my uncle brought some CDs home. at least Messiah’s Rotten Perish album has made me familiar with the metal genre.
I felt that sense of pride and individuality that only true feelings for metal can give a person, I listen to metal because I truly love it with an undying passion, and I’ve always been so proud of that, I’ve never bowed to any trend or done anything because I was “supposed” to, and I’m very glad that I had the ability to become an individual instead of a mindless follower like how 99% of today’s society is, indeed. Just like any other human being, I grew up together in the good and the bad, it was good in a sense.
Can you tell me how the project got started, and what bands inspired you to make this kind of music? I understand Glora Nexus is a one-man project.
Previously I asked you, have you ever read the results of the interview answers about this question?. If you have found it, I will not rewrite it here. Sorry to say, I’m not really interested in this question. The music of a Black Metal band should be dark in some way. There is no law that would forbid growling from a Black Metal singer. And I’d like to see bands use more imagination, knowledge, and individuality in their lyrics. Could it be more pathetic?
(ed.) If the reader is interested, here is more to be found in the interview on Occult Black Metal Zine, which is the other interview I’ve found. A later interview sheds more light too, on Himnos Ritualis. I do feel the music sounds particularly as if it has been inspired by the Icelandic scene.
Before your EP, you released two singles, what has been the development like for you as an artist towards this EP?
I don’t think there is any clear and definite answer, but this is a philosophical statement using music as a vehicle and I think that is just plain foolish. From the song “Spiritual Havoc” to the release of the EP “A Grand Monument To Mortality” is that progression is simply exploring yourself because in the end music and all art is a reflection of the artist. As long as you explore yourself and use yourself to write music. Ultimately the quality of a musical work should reflect the musician’s confidence in his own abilities and his ambition to achieve the desired result.
You’ve just released your EP ‘A Grand Monument To Mortality’. What can you tell me about this record, your process in creating it?
From my own experience, I find that through the years I have become more comfortable and find myself trying out new things or trying stuff I could not pull off in the past. I have always held a certain philosophy behind songwriting. I like tempo changes and transitions to build up different moods and I think there needs to be a certain natural flow to how all the riffs come together and how the melodies float over them. I don’t think we have reached the ideal sound or style just yet, but I think that any active musician would say that it is just an ongoing process filled with development and experimentation. The composition of “A Grand Monument To Mortality” was really spontaneous, kinda comparable to how we did proceed with the debut track “Spiritual Havoc”. When I had the complete songs and their related lyrics we started to add this and that to melt each lyric to its own musical support. Everything went very fast a bit like if some force was just telling us what to do, it was quite intense and natural.
What sort of theme are you striving for with Glora Nexus? The artwork of the EP gives me very specific vibes that sort of click with dark romanticism, but maybe I’m completely wrong there.
I think people just got bored with their hollowness and started to look for something with a deeper meaning behind it. Our “imagery” is everything to us. My attraction to Black Metal has always been based on the combination of the raw primitive aggression with the melodic and atmospheric elements that come together to create such a cold and dark listening experience. We try to keep the Black Metal spirit alive with our vision. To me, our central theme has always been and will always be nihilism and Solitude is essential for keeping yourself balanced and healthy if you are unhappy being around most people, as I am. From my point of view, this is also beneficial as staying isolated keeps one’s ideas independent and free of any manipulating influence. That’s what I wanted to convey with Glora Nexus when we started out, and that’s the path we still tread.
What is it like to make this kind of extreme music in Indonesia? I know little about the scene there, apart from fragments displayed in the ‘Global Metal’ documentary, which is years old now. Can you say something about that?
To me, nothing surprising. Indonesia’s metal scene is one of the countries that attract the attention of death metal maniac audiences with all the positives and negatives that accompany it. I think that most Indonesian bands are original because of our national character. We have this inborn tendency to be very individual, to the point of being stubborn. Currently, the Indonesian black metal scene has also grown very significantly with the presence of several bands that have been able to attract international audiences to start paying attention to their existence. I think, “A Grand Monument To Mortality” has also helped strengthen us into the Indonesian metal scene further, at least I hope so.
Even if you are the reigning king of the universe, you have to bargain with people and deal with them in a proper manner. I think this is indisputable.
How free are you to explore darker themes in your music? Is there censorship to take into account?
Of course, I would never limit the theme, although there are also quite dark themes like you said. Glora Nexus is a means for me to externalize what I feel and spread it upon the world like a plague. I see Glora Nexus as the most important thing in my life right now. this musical project is a means for me to “unleash” the darkness within me. let me ask you something: how many people who listen to violent and extreme music are actually placid and harmless individuals in real life? We ought not to forget that music is an extremely powerful medium, with the capability to affect sensibilities in all sorts of unpredictable ways.
When I was reading up on you, I found an interview and you express the following sentiment: “The Spirit of Opposition is still very much alive & potent in the most obscure underground fanatical circles. Life is war, choose your side, stand for the underground.” What do you feel extreme metal in this time should be opposing? And where does Glora Nexus stand?
This is a good question, as it illustrates the way in which we humans unconsciously dress up the world to suit our needs and desires. It’s easy to extrapolate this further into other avenues of existence, and determines the structure of our awareness. Everyone ought to find his or her own path to happiness. I don’t believe in ‘utopian’ solutions if you have that in mind. When each individual lives for nothing but his own benefit then society cannot hold for long, at least when taking in mind the way most humans behave themselves. I think that as long as one is able to adapt, even if it’s a superficial adaptation and not a ‘real’ one, they will be able to survive. But this is not a simple process for them. Admit it, humans are anomalous creatures. Glora Nexus’ position is not to deny all forms of human existence, even the absurd ones. because reaching a compromise with another human being is almost impossible to avoid in real life. Even if you are the reigning king of the universe, you have to bargain with people and deal with them in a proper manner. I think this is indisputable.
You’re releasing your EP through Bhumidhuka Productions (Malaysia) and Harsh Production (Indonesia). How is the connection between local and national scenes in your region? As it surprises me your record is also coming out on a Malaysian label.
I think the Indonesian metal scene is still very solid even though there are some people whose passion lies more on an individualistic level who just want to be left alone with their creations. We’ve partnered with Bhumidhuka Productions and Harsh Production for the release CD and cassette so far, at the same time I’m happy that we’ve been able to at least have people interested in working with us.
What are the future plans for Glora Nexus?
The new record will be even more unholy than ever before!