ALBUM

i) The Course of Things and Our Insignificance. ii) The Visions of Death. iii) Winds and Waves. iv) Morphine Visions.

Also released as four separate EPs. All songs recorded on a Zoom Handy Recorder in two locations in Florø, Norway late 2015/early 2016. All instruments/vocals/mixing and songs by Leiv Reed except where noted.

Thematically all the songs revolve around my fathers’ death and sickness, and the life we had together. Thanks to him, and my mother I discovered the magic and the therapy in music. Through artists such as The Incredible String Band, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell, old country and delta blues (Leadbelly, Scrapper Blackwell, Robert Johnson, Lonnie Johnson, Mississippi Fred McDowell), Rolling Stones, John Fahey, Richard Thompson and Leo Kottke I found the magic in creating and using music as a vessel for my thoughts on life and everything that surrounds us, and follow us through our days.

In this release I mean to honor my dad for the way he was — an excentric, a thinker, and inspiration to those around him — but also give a glimpse of the complexity in life, his life, and that not everything is pure and simple, black and white. How someone so influential to me, as he was, also had sides that made him intolerable to some. I imagine that this is how we can look upon ourselves too – someone in possession of both good and bad, not either/or.

Some of you might question my choice in covering a Burzum song. I have written a little bit about that here.

Available for downloading/streaming
Apple Music
Spotify

Lyrics

Tracklisting

The Course of Things and our Insignificance.

Dunkelheit ☨
Crossroads ✠
The morning mist. Birds. And today a head full of memories.
You don’t have to suffer anymore.

Winds and Waves
Furuhaugane
Kinn
Botnavegen
Jacob Sandevegen

The Visions of Death
Vision One
Vision Two
Vision Three
Vision Four

Morphine Visions

This video was recorded when I was there with my father, in his spouses’ home just before she spiralled into a psycosis after a longer period without sleep. I had tried to soothe her, and comfort her the best I could. But when my father was hurried to hospital, near dying she married my drugged down father, turned on me, broke all ties to all his family, even took his Facebook account and blocked his entire family, and used all her energy on devouring my father, his belongings, his everything.

The song Dunkelheit was written by Burzum and released on the album Filosofem. The arrangement was made by me.

I’ve been struggling a little whether I should «use» my father’s death in my music, and really had to think things through: I don’t want to prostitute myself or the people I love to stand on some stage. But life events like these is exactly why music has become so important, it is a therapy and for my own sake and if someone finds any joy or comfort in it then I am grateful.

When I sing I sing about the things that puzzle me or occupy my mind. For the last eight or nine years or so my fathers illness has played a big part in my life, and the last six months of his life was a true nightmare. Emotionally it was so for me aswell, but what hurt me was to see how much he hurt, and the terror and angst that tortured him up until he left for good.

 

The last week he lived I lived in the nursing home with him, sleeping in the room next door. When I wasn’t by his bed side I was in my room, recording. The four EPs that came out winter/spring this year was all recorded there. So that I will never forget that time. So that I will never forget how much I loved my father.

 

After he passed this has become increasingly more important to me to remember. His girlfriend derailed the minute my dad couldn’t speak anymore and revealed a side of human nature I thought I’d never get to experience. That ring she put on his finger a month before he died – little did I know she would use that to take every material thing away from me and my brother. How I wish my father could see what is happening now. What happened there in his room when he was too medicated and sick to stay awake. When faced with greed and mental sickness of this kind I’ve had to focus on what matters the most: the life I have, the life my father had, the life me and him had together. In objects there is no trace of that. I remember my dad talking about his love for Fernando Pessoa – the power of imagination. But it takes a lot, a lot.

Time has passed now since my father’s passing, and not a day goes by without me thinking about him, and thoughs about the mystery of Death. How the concept of Death just doesn’t quite have a rational place in my mind. I just can’t quite grasp that he is gone. Forever.

The songs he gave me will always be with me, and the songs I recorded when I was there with him will always be with me. And when I listen to them I will see him lying there on his dying bed. I will remember how he asked me about my thoughts of what comes next. I will remember the cowardice and greed that some people will succumb to. How some will have their sight blurred by pride and greed. Most of all, I will never ever forget who my father was, and who I was to him. A bond that will never be broken, not even by death. I do not believe in a heavenly reunion where I will one day meet him again, but the images and sounds – the memories I have of him will always mean the world to me, and when he is gone there will always be a hole inside me where he once was.

Lyrics

The Course of Things and our Insignificance.

Dunkelheit
☨ Written by Varg Vikernes / Burzum.

When night falls
She cloaks the world
In impenetrable
Darkness
A chill rises from the soil
And contaminates the air
Suddenly…
Life has new meaning

 

Crossroads
✠ Written by Don McLean.

I’ve got nothing on my mind,
Nothing to remember,
Nothing to forget.
And I’ve got nothing to regret.
But I’m all tied up on the inside,
No one knows quite what I’ve got,
And I know that on the outside
What I used to be
I’m not
anymore.

You know I’ve heard about people like me
But I never made the connection.
They walk one road to set them free
And find they’ve gone the wrong direction.
But there’s no need for turning back
Cause all roads lead to where I stand;
And I believe I’ll walk them all
No matter what I may have planned.

Can you remember who I was?
Can you still feel it?
Can you find my pain?
Can you heal it?

Then lay your hands upon me now
And cast this darkness from my soul.
You alone can light my way.
You alone can make me whole
Once again.

We’ve walked both sides of every street
Through all kinds of windy weather;
But that was never our defeat
As long as we could walk together.
So there’s no need for turning back
Cause all roads lead to where we stand;
And I believe we’ll walk them all
No matter what we may have planned.

 

The morning mist. Birds. And today a head full of memories.

When I was in my teens I slept in my mothers boat house by the lake in Reed.
From early may till late september I slept there in my sleeping bag on a thin mattress.
On rainy days the water came trickling through the cracks in the ceiling.
I kept the doors open when I was there, all day, all night.
I lay silent and listened to the rain on the lake, and watched.

The morning mist. Birds. And today, a head full of memories.
The morning mist. Birds. And today, a head full of memories.

When I was six or seven, my dad and ma split up
I remember yelling, crying, fighting and dad saying to me
‘my boy, your mom is sick and i’ll take you with me on an adventure’
she had locked her door, could’nt bare his lies anymore
I’ve never fully understood how he could cheat for years and not face the consequence

The morning mist. Birds. And today, a head full of memories.
The morning mist. Birds. And today, a head full of memories.

Me and my friend, Kolbjørn we found his pa dead in front of their house
outside their front door he used to sit and smoke his cigarettes and drink beer
when they lowered his casket Kolbjørns face was like stone
his sister she screamed and cried, her only father was gone
so much changed that day, and it caused so much later on

The morning mist. Birds. And today, a head full of memories.
The morning mist. Birds. And today, a head full of memories.

Now at 31 it’s me by the bedside
now at 66 it’s my pa on his deathbed
we both know the course of things, and our insignificance
my dad, my ma and i we’re all atoned and at peace
with all our struggles, they all lie behind us
right now we just cry, afraid to see him leave
The morning mist. Birds. And today, a head full of memories.

 

You don’t have to suffer anymore.

(Instrumental)

Winds and Waves

Furuhaugane

(Instrumental)

Kinn

(Instrumental)

Botnavegen

(Instrumental)

Jacob Sandevegen

(Instrumental)

The Visions of Death

Vision One

(Instrumental)

Vision Two

(Instrumental)

Vision Three

(Instrumental)

Vision Four

(Instrumental)

 

Morphine Visions

(Instrumental)