Fremmede toner

It seemed a lot of people, at least in my circle of mellow metalheads, didn't quite get along with Lumsk's latest long-player, "Det Vilde Kor" ('07), which, then, I let be. Allegedly, the band went in a more progressive direction. And this is also the case on "Fremmede Toner". However, this does not make the music any worse. In fact, quite the contrary.

The concept behind "Fremmede Toner" ("Foreign Notes") is musical interpretations of six poems by Norwegian poet André Bjerke and six translations thereof by such literary celebs as Goethe, Swinburne, and even Nietzsche. The album's side 1 contains the Norwegian interpretations; side 2 the German and English ones. In general, side 1 is a bit softer and side 2 a bit harder. But other than that, the only major distinction is the difference in language. Because the progressive element is dominant throughout, Lumsk often sounding more like Porcupine Tree or Riverside than like a band who used to write songs about trolls and viking-age kingslayers.

... And that's okay. Because while we're not getting a new "Åsmund Fregdegjevar" ('03) or "Troll" ('05) here, we're getting an album that's eclectic, sonorous, and challenging. New female vocalist Mari Klingen impresses from the beginning as she lifts "Det Døde Barn" from sparse, piano-based, melancholic neo-rock to a dominating, higher level of intensity, heaviness, and details. Her technique is – probably quite literally – breathtaking. And even though the much-added heaviness on its side 2 equivalent "Das Tode Kind" is welcome, the Norwegian original ends up winning by a margin, exactly due to that meticulous, proggy build-up.

The same thing goes for side 1's "En Harmoni" compared to its English side 2 equivalent "A Match". The latter does feature a cool Jethro Tull style transverse flute and a downright metal axe chop coda, low second step and all. But the former is much more elegant and diverse, going from folky violins over a heavy mid-section with an almost surf guitar-sounding theme to a major-key plateau reminiscent of Opeth's "Hessian Peel" from "Watershed" ('08).

Even though especially the vocals and drums are masterful, the latter often being polyrhythmic and playing uneven meters, the whole progressive aspect predominantly consists in these many different song sections. And it gets hard to maintain focus. Not because things get too complex, which they otherwise tend to do in the genre, but because a lot of the sections are about simply sounding different than the previous one, without necessarily having any stand-out themes, hooks, or gimmicks.

One stand-out is "Fiolen", which, in its cutesy major-key melody over a cutesy major-key piano cadence just manages to get a bit too cutesy before an increasing synth and a tonic minor variation hijacks it into unknown territory. Another stand-out is the synth lead in "Abschied" which sounds like Amorphis on "Elegy" ('96) – a 100% positive trait in my world. The best song would have to be the slow, somber "Dagen Er Endt", its sad melody and background drone suddenly sliding into grand power chords and a lead synth adding just a touch of major-key deliverance. Fucking beautiful.

And this is how Lumsk end up winning here. Because while the many intangible elements do make the album hard to fully embrace, the band's sense of fluent dynamics, tonal variation, and just plain applied songwriting tools collectively make "Fremmede Toner" the most interesting album of 2023 so far. Not the best one, and certainly not the catchiest one, but that's probably not the point, either. We have a worthy comeback here, songs about trolls or not.


(Originally published at: https://www.globalmetalblog.com/l/lumsk-fremmede-toner)

No, no. Haha, what? Nah. Wait, really? Really really? Oh shit, let me get my stuff in order, just--

Sorry, sorry. I'm not accustomed to going at a review fresh and with no clear idea of where I'm going to go with it, but much like the latest effort by Dødheimsgard, something about this release tripped me in such a way that I immediately gave up on the idea of reviewing it. However in this case something else (perhaps the need to state some facts regarding execution, perhaps the fact that someone else was brave enough to take a stab at reviewing it) made the "I should review it" impulse linger for long enough for me to actually, somewhat reluctantly, give it a go. But I'm still gathering myself from both the reality of the album itself, and the nature of its contents. So, please, if you'll allow me, I need to make a quick detour: Nothing more than one or two paragraphs that I need to get off my chest before moving to the album in question. It's important since it is brimming with parallels, room for comparison, and food for thought.

You see there's this band, this Norwegian band of hard hitting, kinda proggy rock (some may argue metal, but that's always a blurry line unless we're talking extreme metal) firmly rooted in Norwegian traditional music. This band released a couple of albums around the mid '00s, made a huge sensation, and then promptly disappeared for over a decade. They came back not too long ago, though, with some wonderful new material, and also some reworked material. They're one of my favourite bands and their return is more than welcome. The band I'm talking about, obviously, is none other than -you guessed it- Gåte! What? Lumsk? Hah, you're kidding. You're kidding, right?

The similarities between Lumsk and Gåte are rather noteworthy. It's not just that they play similar music, went dormant, and came back. They both returned offering music that's simultaneously unmistakably their own, without it sounding dated or predictable, and they both also offered, as a bonus, reworkings of their own material. It is where their sequential execution differs, however, that a case study may be made on how to make and not make a comeback: Gåte suddenly disappeared from the scene at the height of their popularity (after releasing a live album), returned a bit over a decade later with a sort of preparatory EP, then the following year released a full-length of all-new material, and finally (so far) released another album only three years later, which includes equal parts new material and pretty radical reworkings of old songs. Lumsk did nothing for a decade and a half, and returned with an album that's made up of the same songs twice, in the same order, only this time around sung in German and (in two particularly jarring instances) English. Fremmede toner indeed. Had Lumsk taken a few notes from their compatriots and comrades in musical arms, then this album would have most assuredly gotten a shining, spanking 100% from me, even if it consisted only of Side A. But they didn't.

And that's what really calls for the question, my cherish'd, my dearly beloved Lumsk: Why in the absolute fuck? Is this all you were able to muster after sitting in your collective bums for 16 years? It's not like you can't write great music anymore; you proved that you can with half an hour of excellent, fresh, new music full of vitality that still remains true and recognisably Lumsk-like, so what on the gods' green and blue earth made you think it'd be acceptable to just release six songs twice? Not only does your fanbase, which has been waiting intently, following the news on outdated social medial platforms, deserve better: YOU as a band deserve better! What kind of ham-fisted, flimsy comeback is this!?

That's basically all for the Gåte-Lumsk-comparison detour I needed to take. Their similar yet opposite cases help to illustrate what's wrong with this album, and to express my towering frustration at it, since what's good about it is so, so good. It's painful to have to rate this album the way I have, but it's also the most fair score I can give it: The first half is a solid 100%. The second half is pointless at best and insulting at worst. With that out of my chest, maybe I can cheer myself up talking about how good the music is.

Now, I'll admit I was quite taken aback when I learned that Stine-Mari Langstrand was no longer part of the band. Her unmistakable vocal presence, her range and elegance, had become an integral part of the post-debut Lumsk sound (to the chagrin of some sore fuckers, mind), and I couldn't imagine what else would be different, indeed what could even suffer, because of her absence. Now, the good news is that this Klingen person is more than competent, even if her scope and technique aren't as immediately imposing. She gets the work done, and leaves nothing to be desired. The violin, another key aspect of Lumsk's sound, is thankfully provided by the very selfsame player who left an indelible mark in all of Lumsk's albums: Siv Lena Waterloo Laugtug. The lineup then is made up of basically only a couple of newcomers and then people who've been around since at least Troll (except for the drummer who joined during the Det Vilde Kor sessions). A healthy lineup that guarantees that you'll find pretty much everything you were looking for if you enjoyed their previous work, while also allowing for a fresh-faced execution and the presence of new, if subtle, flavours and colours. To their credit, this is exactly what you'll find on side A.

Indeed, what wonderful music we find on that side! As the music unfolds one of the first things we notice is that this is some of the most hard-hitting, heavy music the band's written since Troll, which should gladden some of the pissy reviewers who dismissed an album as wonderful as Det Vilde Kor for being "pop", but then again there's no pleasing reviewers, amirite? The band has in fact managed to pack an impressive variety of dynamics, timbre, and intensity in six songs, most of which are of a very healthy length, the longest being a measly 30 seconds under the 9-minute mark (the fact that the side B versions of the shorter tracks are almost twice as long is more than a little irritating, but what're ya gonna do?). The intensity of the aforementioned heavier moments are well balanced with the proggier, (pop??)rockish moments which exhibit the more nuanced, one would be tempted to say elegant side of the band's sound. This gossamer, colourful entity dances around the boulders that are the heavy riffs like a stream coming and going amongst a particularly rocky riverside. It works charmingly well.

As mentioned, the music succeeds in incorporating variety and contrasts: Pounding rhythms and head-banging guitar work bouncing off of more restrained, technically demanding stretches of aksak metres of five or seven, and the ever present yet thankfully not overbearing keyboards, which lean a lot more towards the revivalist prog tones (à la Enslaved or Opeth) instead of any Humppa/Polka accordionesque sound one would expect from folk metal, or even the eerie, cavernous tones of synth-centric black or doom metal (and thank the blue heavens for that!). But the thing that unifies all these disparate characteristics, the thing that has made Lumsk the entity that it is, be it in their early, more-or-less-straightforward viking metal days or in their latter prog-folk-rock/metal era, is the memorability of their music: Whether they're playing fast and hard, or showing off their understated, shining expertise, the songwriting is concise, balanced, very organic and natural, and above all: Catchy. They've always been a catchy bunch, and they remain one to this day. People tend to look down on catchiness as a sign that the music is lacking in content, that it's easy and aims for the lowest common denominator, and they're often right. More often than not, I'd reckon, statistically. In this context, however, it only adds to the band's credit that they'd be able to remain catchy and memorable while everything else is going on: Dexterous and layered complexity caught in a harmonious embrace with rugged, rough-edged straightforwardness, resulting in melodies and harmonic progressions which stay with you. There is no denying that a good deal of the catchiness of it all is indebted to its folk roots: Traditional music has survived partially because of how it ingrains itself on the people who live with it as part of their culture.

Just as memorable is the gorgeous cover art, by none other than long-time contributor Per Spjøtvold, who's helped in no small manner to don the band with its unique, readily identifiable identity. His art, from the very first album, has always fit the music extremely well, and has even reflected the changes that the music underneath was and is going through. A bit of a shame, then, that this colourful, intriguing, evoking piece of his would be brought down by half of the content within. This, of course, being a mere aesthetic aside. There's more to say about the music before I call it a day (I've actually been struggling with this review for a week now).

A lot of the songs have this sense of progression (not in the "progressive rock" sense, mind you, but in the sense that things being to happen and present themselves gradually and in an additive manner) that I really enjoy. The very opener being a point in case, with its unassuming ambiance and quiet piano notes being eventually met with chugging guitars, a busy drummer, and an energetic vocal delivery without ever breaking either song structure or even melodic contour. The whole song is a poignant crescendo with enough gravitas and a satisfying enough climax to go with its despondent title ("the dead child"). It doesn't take a long time before the heavier guitars and the twin melodic work reminiscent even of Åsmund Frægdegjevar meet with the irregular rhythms of Troll, in a way that luckily does not evoke nostalgia: Rather a sense of urgency to continue a journey that's been on hold for too long. While the band has been complacent in its chronology, its music has not been so in its continuity. All the while the status of the band's pure metal origins is reaffirmed beyond doubt, and all the while the enamouring folk tunes keep us grounded on what the band's entire mission is. Yet even in the midst of this serious endeavour, songs like Fiolen reminds us that there's always one or two peaceful moments where one can allow oneself to sit down in the green and take in the pure air before the final push to the top. Tenderness and lyricism are there, waiting reassuringly: A brief respite before the final battle.

I used the word "urgency" and "journey" a few sentences ago, and that's the sense that this music overall presents firstly: There is no time for dreamy relaxation as with Det Vilde Kor, nor time for cocky self-assuredness as with Troll: The band has reawakened and is now on a mission. The music stretches and strains as if trying to attain a goal, to physically get to a target destination. Had the band written enough material for a full album, this sense of unstoppable movement would've worked wonders. As it stands, however, much like the album itself, the flow is rudely interrupted, and comes short of resolution.

All of this makes me look like a madman, or someone exacting some sort of petty revenge, but I promise it hurts me, personally, to have to treat this effort in the way that, in the end, I'm treating it. It pains me greatly to have to judge such great music in such a seemingly dismissive way over something that a kinder listener would simply gloss over. I may not be kind, but at least I try to be as close as a human being can get to "truthful", half-heartedly conceding just for a moment that such a notion may actually make some sense, exist in reality, and be attainable. As someone who is reviewing a musical effort, a much expected and much postponed full-length album I cannot in good conscience give a high mark to a work which is only half what it purports to be. What it is is at best an unfinished, inexplicably rushed album (considering all the time they had for themselves) that makes it more than obvious that they had the means and the tools to make it a whole one, and at worst an attempt to extend an EP's worth of perfectly fine-on-its-own material into a full-length, for reasons that, be they what they may, are inexcusable. After such a long wait, an album that is actually half an album twice is simply not acceptable.

It must be said that, in their defense, they didn't just record alternative vocal lines to use on the already recorded songs. The difference in lengths being indication enough that they actually played the whole thing again, with some alterations in order to accommodate the foreign languages of their choosing. There is some merit in that, but how much, really? And is it not worse to think that they went through the trouble of picking up their instruments once more, and consciously playing the songs in a slightly different manner, when they could've funnelled that energy and creativity into writing at least a couple more new songs? Was it really that bad of an idea to release the first six songs as an EP and then maybe releasing the second half, with slightly altered cover art, as an "alternative" EP, maybe to reach a wider audience or insert themselves in an international market? That would've been perfectly respectable. Instead, well, you can see what we got.

All in all a potential stunning EP was realised as a frustratingly flawed LP by a few short-sighted decisions, but not (thankfully) by any artistic inadequacy. If you, like me, were in dire need of getting that Lumsk fix and were left unsatisfied, be glad that there's still Gåte to pick up the slack for both of them. I can't guarantee that the miracle will repeat itself, though. We can only hope that next time around they'll copy their classmate's notes and release a proper album of all-new material before the decade is over.

It must have been 20 years ago when I first discovered Lumsk’s debut album. I was immediately addicted to their unique style of progressive folk-rock/metal, heavily influenced by Norwegian tales and poems. With 2005’s Troll, the band managed to improve on their amazing debut by further streamlining their songs and allowing themselves to not shy away from more passionate and vulnerable sections. Hopes were high for 2007’s album, but it seemed like the band took their progression a bit too far. The album consisted mostly of poppy ballads, with the odd folky prog-rock song in between. After years of silence, it seemed this was the end for this band…

You can imagine my surprise when they announced a new album, almost 16 years later. With some changes in their line-up and a very long time to work on the new material, I was curious about the direction the band would evolve. Are we getting another ballad-ridden, mediocre album, or will they return to their roots? Both of these guesses turned out to be wrong!

Before completely breaking down the album, it must be said this one needs a bit of explanation. Like the other Lumsk albums, this is a concept album. The songs are based on 6 poems by André Bjerke, who took inspiration from Goethe, Nietzsche, and Swinburne. Each poem is transformed into a song in Norwegian in the first half of the album and an English or German version in the second half. Luckily, this doesn’t mean the songs are the same at all, though! There is a clear thread that connects each of the pairs of songs, without them ever feeling like a copy of one other. The best way to think of it is as a reflection or mirror image of the same concept (As the beautiful cover art also suggests).

The gentle piano accompanied by hauntingly beautiful vocals of Det døde barn (The dead child) starts our journey. When the drums and acoustic guitars kick in, you will immediately notice this album is far more progressive than any of Lumsk’s previous works. Halfway through the song, the first distortion can be heard. What a relief to hear this heavier side of the band, mostly absent from the previous release. If this opening track didn’t at least pique your interest, it might be better to move on to something less out-of-the-box within the metal scene. We’ll only be getting more of this!

En harmoni (a match) gives us the first good listen to the beautiful violins we know from earlier albums. They are hidden in the background on the first song, but here they take the front of the stage. The progressive elements are even more prevalent in this song and are supported by a Hammond organ for the more ’70s prog sound. This song features a beautiful vocal / drum break before launching in a heavy section that will remind the longtime listener of passages from their first album, Åsmund Frægdegjevar. Even more than in the previous songs, the attention is drawn to the drum performance by Vidar in Avskjed. 16 years is a long time between albums, but it’s clear that he hasn’t been sitting still all this time. His technique, choice of accents, and fills are incredible and lift this otherwise straightforward song, of just over two minutes, to another level. The same can be said about the riffs and guitars in general, with outstanding performances by Eystein and Roar. Now we can safely say that Lumsk is back and stronger than ever.

With the start of Under Linden (Under the Linden/white wood), we get flashbacks from 2007’s Det vilde kor. Although this album was more focused on ballads and vocal performance than Lumsk’s other works, it didn’t lose their unique sound and feel. This song is written in a very interesting combination of time signatures, but isn’t too complex to follow along easily. We get another Hammond organ break, after which we are welcomed by a wall of distorted guitars and a captivating solo that shows glimpses of the better Opeth tracks. What differentiates Lumsk from them however are the fantastic vocals in Norwegian by newcomer Mari, who captures the sound of her predecessor Stine-Mari (although I do miss her soulful rolling ‘R’). Fiolen (The Viola) follows the last song up perfectly and marks the first full-on ballad of the album. This short track gives room for, as the name already suggested, the violin. The performance of Siv Lena is as great as always and still leaning heavily on the traditional Scandinavian style we have gotten used to in the band’s works. The first half of the album is closed off with Dagen er endt (The day is done). Unfortunately, this is also my least favorite track of the album, which in no way means it’s a bad song! It captures all the elements we’ve heard so far and combines them to form a great, but rather straightforward, ballad.

The first song of the second half of the album is the German Das tode Kind, and this is the first time we hear Lumsk with lyrics in another language than Norwegian. I like the concept, but think there is some loss of emotion when not singing in their mother tongue. This doesn’t take away that this is another amazing song with a chillingly beautiful buildup to a heavy final, that once again takes us back to their first album. Lumsk manages to find the perfect balance between slow, intricate sections and distorted, heavy sections again. A Match is the first ever Lumsk Song in English, and it introduces us to the new voice of session musician Mathias. His warm baritone fits perfectly with Mari in this lovely duet, which focuses heavily on the lyrics. Things get shaken up in the later half of this song, where the time signature changes, and they once again build up to a heavy closing. Both vocals get more raw as the song progresses, making this perhaps the most metal song on the album, which you would never expect listening to only the first part of the track.

We hear the return to German In Abschied. This is another heavy hitter, with great performances all around. The drums once again stick out due to the very contrary play style, which makes the songs so much more interesting on multiple playthroughs. By now it is more than clear that Mari has an incredible vocal talent, both fragile and powerful, fitting the music perfectly. Under de Linden continues with an incredibly beautiful vocal performance, guided by a melancholic piano riff. This song twice features a complex, but very satisfying, time signature change that I can’t get enough off. The songwriting is of a very high standard and, understandably, it took the band some years to finish these compositions! (Although 16 years is a bit of a stretch, of course…)

Das Veilchen is another fantastically beautiful track, with a buildup to an emotional eruption only the greatest in the history of prog-rock can churn out. Lumsk does this, all without ever sounding like they copy any band. This is another highlight of the album. When The day is done starts, the album has been playing for nearly one hour already, yet it feels like it could easily carry on for another hour. This last track features Mathias’ vocals prominently, and at times his voice reminds me of some of the best Marko Hietala (former Nightwish) performances. Halfway through, Mari joins for a final time, topping the already great duet we heard on A Match. The piece forms a beautiful and engaging prog-rock epic, with very heavy 70s prog influences, mostly resembling Pink Floyd. Not a single note on this album overstays its welcome, and the only thing you want to do when the final note fades out is hit the repeat button. What an incredible experience!

Lumsk manages to do the (nearly) impossible with this profoundly goosebump-inducing album: A return after a 16-year-long hiatus, combining all the elements that made the band great in the first place and creating the perfect culmination of emotionally driven, progressive folk rock/metal. If any of these genres speak to you, you simply must hear this album. To close things off, it must be mentioned that the production of this album is of a very high standard, giving room for all the individual elements to shine, while still sounding pure and heartfelt. This is without a doubt their best work to date, and I would almost say it was worth the wait! Just don’t take another 16 years for the next album, the world needs more remarkable and unique pieces of art like this album!

Highlights: All tracks, but if I had to choose: Det Døde Barn, En harmoni, Avskjed, Das tode Kind, A Match, Abschied, Das Veilchen.