Anyone working backwards from Wagner Ödegård’s recent LPs on Klaxon will experience a quick mis-step into a shadowy world of dark sound experimentation which, while sonically at odds with the bonfires of raging black metal found on the recent LPs, informs and develops the core misanthropic qualities found on those recent recordings (as well as Wagner’s work in projects such as Wulkanaz and Tomhet). ‘Usumar’ and ‘Spöstugan’ seem to complete a set of four previous cassettes and two LPs (all simultaneously collected and reissued as a cassette boxset on Altare) which have explored environmental, meditative, abrasive and atmospheric inclinations of black metal through field recordings, ambient electronics, and primitive industrial constructs.
The more familiar deconstruct, ‘Ursumar’ was released in abridged form on Bandcamp in 2017 and only released fully as part of the ‘Sju Väglösa Mil’ compilation CDs in 2019, now a standalone release. The cassette holds two sides predominantly of drawn out church organ/synth melodies, an incremental development to the black metal introductions which spawned projects such as Wongraven and the first Lord Wind album before burgeoning into a surprisingly self-sufficient subgenre – dovetailing with the industrial underground most notably thanks to the amazing work of Roger Karmanik and Cold Meat Industry.
‘Ursumar’ will probably attract more than a few ‘dungeon synth’ descriptors but that’s inaccurate not least because of its context among Wagner Ödegård’s other work, the cassette in some ways the product of an almost deliberate search for structural purpose – albeit one then subjected to far more experimental whims than found in most dungeons. “Nordsolen” and “Jordmånen” are both fractured by gnawed tape errors, haunted by spoken word fragments (particularly through opener “Nordsolen”’s beginnings), and coated in a thick layer of tape hiss, experimental techniques sabotaging the otherwise simple solemnity at the heart of the pieces.
The tonal work itself is simple but without any drudgery, slow chordal shifts and circular melodies eased out of a pipe organ and then abraded by the analogue granularity which cakes the pieces. The often abrupt cuts between portions are hewn by cassette player editing and ultimately destroy the attempt at a more familiar construct. “Jordmånen” in particular seems to be opening up into a state of near sermonising, only to drop out crushingly with an almost audible cassette deck head thud.
‘Spöstugan’ was previously unreleased until the ‘Sju Väglösa Mil’ compilation CDs and again gains its first standalone release thanks to Altare. The work finds Wagner Ödegård entirely removed from melodic or instrumental inputs, instead capturing the devoid centre of the project in perfect abstract minimalism.
If the ‘Skugg-Hasse’ and ‘Nidvintern’ LPs used field recordings to seemingly reflect a natural environment, ‘Spöstugan’’s first side is the sound of a returnto urban isolation, the piece dominated by a slow-paced rumble which is seemingly lifted from midnight traffic murmur through an open window, hazed by snippets of muffled voice, snatches of near music and other indecipherables – and twisted into post-industrial form through an unsubtle low-end boost. The second side is similarly cloaked in intangibly ambient noise, although seemingly more directly composer-created: a subtle layer of machine clamour lapses as motors discernibly lapse or die, and the piece thickens as those same mechanics cycle into more focused momentum which tends to leave some of the foggy frequency behind.
Neither piece relies entirely on its murky minimalism; the second side is quite forceful in its opening, unleashing a strafing low synth tone and piling on strands of what may be whispered vocals which have been reversed and immersed in reverb. The first side manages through its middle section to metamorphosise into a semi-regular throb and constrict further to an almost singular tonal pulse and later ringing mid-toned repetition, both clever in their disintegrative execution – the first side shifting from captured to created sound while discreetly folding in on itself, downsizing from an expansive sonority to a confined tonality, is particularly well realised.
Like Wagner Ödegård’s earlier recordings, ‘Spöstugan’ and ‘Ursumar’ find their own obscured pocket somewhere between black metal sensibilities and the experimental underground, drawing from each without properly fitting into either. These works’ ‘previously unreleased’ status is no cause for avoidance; both are crucial parts of Wagner Ödegård’s curious and enthralling discography. ‘Spöstugan’ adds to that considerably by including a 32 page A5 zine of drawings and poetry: a mixture of arcane drawings, hand-inked esotericism and torture ruminations which gives insight into the project’s impetus while adding further layers of mystery and difficulty.
