Still here

Still here

I have written songs about this, and I guess there’s a pattern to it. I dissapear for a while, and then return again. This time I’ve been away since I released a few things, back in 2016 I guess it was.

And then I wake up from the slumber again. I see people from all around the world are listening, and it kind of makes me happy. Grateful. And that there’s someone who care. I do love making these songs, and my path has steadily become more and more settled conceptually.

I’ve always enjoyed the narrower music styles. There may a common denominator to them. Maybe I’m drawn to a particular sound. Unpolished sound. I’m not really sure. But the last few years I’ve been completely immersed in black metal, death metal, punk and thrash. And every once in a while I stumble across other things I get inspired by.

A while back I recorded a Burzum tune. I have a new arrangement coming too. Jesu’ Död/Jesus’ Tod, and I tried out a verse on Instagram. I hope I’ll get it done in not too long.

I’ve written (or mostly improvised) a bunch of new songs too. ‘Open eyes’ started out as a Elliott Smothesque song, and ended up entirely electronic/synth based. I hope to make an EP with the various versions of that.

Anyway. I have more new stuff. A lot. But I have to go through it, sort out a few arrangements here and there. Tighten up a few lyrics. Record a little.

❤️

New song: Lonely All Of Us

New song: Lonely All Of Us

New

Opslået af Leiv Reed på 5. oktober 2017

Things can turn around quickly
A smile might end up in a frown
Your good intentions and ambition
thrown off in a fit of rage

Some people go through the world
never exposed for what they are
Other strive to be noticed
And cling to a hope so high

Lonely all of us
Lonely all of us
Yeah, we are
Lonely all of us

Lonely all of us
Lonely all of us
Yeah, we are
Lonely all of us

I walked into the room all burning with conviction
A childlike belief that I could solve it
Oppressed by the power of secrecy and cowards
They split us apart for ever

To resign with a feeling of warmth
To resign without giving in
To know and never waver
To stay there till the end

(Chorus)

I would never think twice
If you came looking for me
I would never think twice
If you came looking for me

(Chorus)

Burzum – The musical pioneer vs. the delusional thinker

Burzum – The musical pioneer vs. the delusional thinker

Varg Vikernes, aka Burzum. A musical pioneer and groundbreaker for the black metal genre, but also a delusional race theorist. Is it possible to consume his music without consuming his ideologies outside of his music?

Filosofem - Burzum

The groundbreaking album Filosofem. Recorded in 1993, and released in 1996.

As a listener of Burzum, and as a year long reader of his writings at Burzum.org the two sides of Varg Vikernes has become a great source and inspiration to reflection around the concept of «The Art vs. The Artist». To me, his personal darkness and delusion is also playing a part when interpreting and listening to his music — I have a fascination for what and why he has written and composed music with the qualities that it clearly has, considering his crimes, views and ideology.

When I discovered the album Filosofem, the opener Dunkelheit struck me immediately. Dunkelheit is a composition with a sentiment and feel that has gripped me from the first second of its run time – monotonous and hypnotic, and in many aspects so close to what I strive to write myself. This is also why I decided to do an alternative version of the song (watch video below).

The album, Filosofem (Burzums’ description of the album) ⌘ (Entry in Encyclopediae Metallum), opens with this song and the whole aesthetic of this album presented something new in music and to many the album represents the prototype of the Black Metal genre. It’s undoubtedly a demanding task to listen to if you are not accustomed to the extreme metal genres, but if you look past the noise and the knife sharp treble you’ll find a melancholic beauty – which also spurred me to rearrange the song and record it with finger plucked guitars, and also to try to evolve the vocal melody.

Acoustic, alternative version of Dunkelheit.

To most of us, the ideology and crimes of Varg Vikernes (aka. Burzum) are not just remote and alien, but also terrifying and reminiscent of the darkest part of Western History.

If I’m still not clear enough: to be 100% clear, I do not share any of Varg Vikernes’ view on race, evolution and politics — on the contrary. I find his views (as formulated outside/separate from his music) completely abhorrent and the works and logic of a delusional mind. My contribution to the discussion around Burzums’ music is to underline the beauty of his music as a contrast to his delusional views shown outside his music.

My version of Dunkelheit came to shape during my time in Florø in late 2015, early 2016 when I stayed with my father, terminally ill with cancer. The version was recorded using a Zoom Handy Recorder, in one take.

Later released on the album The Course of Things and Our Insignificance (Apple Music, Spotify).

I feel like running. Fast.

I feel like running. Fast.

It’s been seven months of a hardships and sadness. Loss and grief. In my mind the stories from these months are so close. They lie in the surface of my thoughts most of my days. And I grow so tired of them, and the desire to change them, or to reverse what has happened hasn’t left me yet. I think I understand how denial becomes a way of navigating through a new life. A life without parts of you that has left. Holes.
Taking the easy way, using the clichés so worn out by our lack of better analogies or explanations. But everyone who has a similar hole, someone who’s also lost parts of themselves – they understand, they don’t need you to explain.
Loss is an integral part of life. Anxiety too. A feeling of panic. Of tremendous weight upon you. And acceptance might be the last thing you want to resort to. But it doesn’t happen that very same day. It won’t let you, not just yet. Float in the dark night sky filled with heavy grey clouds. Weep. Mourn.

 

I’m not sure if putting my weight on you would do you any good, and I’m not sure if I’m entitled at all to say that what I carry is a weight to speak of. But still. These encounters with loss make up my horizon today, such as yours make up your.

 

I feel like running. Fast. Throwing many things away. I guess loss does that to us. At least I feel that. To rid myself of the things I don’t want in my life. The darkness. And where does acceptance come in? How do I harmonize myself with the inevitable. To lose someone. To lose. How can we accept its part in our lives? Just avoid the thought all together? It seems like the common solution. But that’s when it hurts the most. When you don’t expect to lose. When you’re turned the other way. It just crushes you. Sweeps you off of your feet. When you embrace the sweetness of life, a handful of sand is thrown into your eyes, and a kick at your feet throws you at the ground.

I feel like running. And I can run. Put my shoes on. Put Justice For All… on. Just run. That’s not denial. That’s just breathing.

I feel like diving. Dive to the bottom. Look at what’s down there. Hold my breath. Feel the cold water stir my pulse and heart and mind. That’s freedom. Not denying. That’s an embrace.

What I’m trying to say is probably that I’m looking for a constructive path to navigate through, and accept the toils we meet. We can’t avoid it, and we shouldn’t.