• Eirik Aspaas
  • Dødheimsgard

Dødheimsgard began as a relatively orthodox black-metal band—Fenriz from Darkthrone plays bass on their first full-length, 1995’s Kronet til Konge—but by the end of the 90s this Oslo collective had plunged into the avant-garde like truants into a flooded quarry, undergoing the kind of transformation more commonly associated with mystics returned from wandering in the desert or anchorites immured for years in cells so small they couldn’t lie down. These guys didn’t just learn to open their third eyes—they’re on their fourth or fifth.

This all hangs together because the vocals are as batty and overboard as the music. They’re driven more by their own cadences than by the rhythms of the song, their inflections full of melodramatic swoops and leaps, like those of a desperate preacher who’s made himself hoarse trying to keep his congregation awake—except that they’re often double-tracked or processed in that distressing way that cheap horror flicks often use to indicate possession by unfriendly spirits.