To help the band celebrate this happy anniversary we look
back on the album, one which I would suggest is their most important to date.
It is an album totally embedded within the surroundings it is recorded, as well
as their most intimate, expressing not only an artistic output but a creation
essential to the bands needs at the time.
Shedding some of the hardcore aesthetic of salvation, along
with some of its more self-destructive tendencies, SATH, though more stripped back, has a certain warmth. This said, it
is without a doubt that the cold-dark Umeå nights creep through into the music;
the warmth present is one pertaining to life echoing its rural background, some
distance from the more abstract and polished Salvation.
Salvation's abrasive
sounds at times seemed to protrude from the beyond, grasped through cracks of
dilapidated city buildings and industrial landscapes. It appears that Cult of
Luna didn’t quite cross over to that other space; rather they seem to have
glimpsed an introspective moment and were catapulted right back, back to their
roots, literally the landscape where they grew up. SATH then can be understood as realignment, a detox of both body
and mind, and in a way a searching for a purer, less refined, organic sound;
completed after months of intensive touring.
The album was completed over a period of three months and recorded,
mostly live by Magnus Lindberg at the Octagon Barn, Norrfors outside of Umeå in
the winter of 2005. The recently reissued anniversary vinyl provides some stunning
new photography and artwork as well as some additional liner notes from
Johannes.
In the current anniversary tour, this Salvation/SATH contrast
is strikingly apparent, choosing to end the first half of their set with the
blinding white hot intensity of Waiting
For You, before commencing Along the
Highway.
.
Opener, Marching to
the Heartbeats, sung by Fredrik Kihlberg, opens the album with sombre
feedback. It’s crisp, like ice crackling as the sun slowly makes its
appearance, placing the album solely in the here and now of the landscape. That
essential facilitating property of landscape feels prominent, and a long way
from Salvation (“To escape the suffering we keep our emotions at a distance”, Into The Beyond, Salvation). We are
witness to the embedded stories and interactions. It’s an album not just of the self, but of the
longing for another. Personal histories evolving in place.
“The sun, the light in your eyes, trapped me in a cage.
When you saw me you saw yourself.
We were the ones that marched and fell.”
When you saw me you saw yourself.
We were the ones that marched and fell.”
This sense of longing is reflected in the ethereal
distortion that hangs over the track, the stretched notes seem echo a sense of
time and a feeling of waywardness.
Perhaps this waywardness is a disconnect between the internal
and the external, of body clocks needing to be re-synced with a natural cycle. The
return to their home town to record this album representing “[t]he longing to
find a home in myself, to find peace and tranquillity”.[3]
With symmetry of intent, the drums pen a simple heartbeat.
The initial aggression of Finland doesn’t take long to subside into a more tranquil state,
building to a precipice which it cannot help but plummet. It feels
introspective and considered. Whilst the recording of this album was completed
in a short space of time, any sense of urgency is not apparent. The moments of
heavy intensity and those quieter, tranquil ones here feel less diametrically
opposed, more fluid and natural.
A flicker of electronics around the four minute mark
conjures thoughts of some night time creature call. Perhaps the beasts of the Eternal Kingdom calling out. It’s an
eerie if not slightly unsettling call. Linked with the lighting in a live
setting to great effect, the electronics are more prominent and imminent, where
as in its initial recording, there is a sparse and facilitating aspect to
Anders Teglund’s flourishes. Recent addition Kristian Karlsson seems to have enthusiastically
taken on role with keyboard/electronics, which, since Vertikal seem to have come forward in the mix.
The drums feel very raw, for the most part, a long way from
the maximalist percussion of Hedlund / Lindberg on Eternal Kingdom. Lyrically
the track relates personal events[4].
Compared to the precise extended builds of Salvation, the beautifully textured
opening of Back to Chapel Town feels
more like an awakening of the dawn chorus. There is an odd, staggered sense of time
however, this dawn chorus quickly descends into night; the band in sync with
the seasonal cycles and the fleeting winter sunlight.
Though more loosely conceptual that the bands following
releases (attempting more generally to capture the image of the environs it was
recorded) it is of note that so many have made this connection, resorting to
allegories of nature to describe the aesthetic of the album. Perhaps most
recently by Jack Chuter “…tracks developed with the fluid inevitability of
plant growth and seasonal shift, repeating certain sections without the
diarised schedule of the city to hurry them along.”[5]
That is so clearly realised, stands as testimony to the
artistic integrity of the album, to its completeness. The video for Back to Chapel Town was filmed in the
location the album was recorded; depicting "a man waking up in a world he
doesn't know, he knows nothing of his past or where he is, people treat him
like air or are very suspicious of him."[6]
As with most elements of the album there is a thoughtful correspondence
between passages of sound, lyric and artwork. Here the dissociated lyrical
content of Back to Chapel Town is
captured in the cinematography.
As in Marching to the
Heartbeats, Kihlberg returns to centre stage. And With Her Came the Birds acts as both interlude and central to
the albums nature. Sonically it is the clearest reflection of where the album
was recorded and has an interesting back story.
“One day a woman emerged from the forest, she looked thin
and her clothes were ragged. She started to dance in a meadow outside of the
cottage. We looked at her through the window and made sure not to make any
noise that would have made her aware of us.
Later that night we recorded And With Her
Came the Birds. The studio was only lit up with a few candles and we
recorded it live. Magnus set up a mic outside the cottage to capture the
atmosphere. The temperature was just above zero and if you listen really
carefully in the first few seconds you can hear the melting water.”[7]
I had always felt it had some almost folkloric element to
it, though had not until recently heard its associated back story. Here, and
throughout the rest of the album, this rural setting in many ways taps into a
national psyche.
With a boom in popularity of Nordic noir over the last few years in the UK, I was always
reminded, when watching programs such as Wallander, of the provoking imagery on
SATH. It seemed to me, that there
existed a deep fascination of the rural countryside of Sweden, often depicting
those living there as isolated and archaic, perhaps viewed with slight
suspicion. Of course this is a popular fiction portrayed in most countries.
Here the modern myth takes on its own national hue and corresponding sounds and
aesthetic. Whether knowingly or not this girl and her birds, and “dead man with pitchfork arms” tap into these
ideas and weave into their own myths of identity.
Having been absent from set lists for the past decade it was
an extra treat to get to see Thirtyfour
performed live. A cacophony of drums fills the space of the barn on its
recording. This interplay of duel drummers reaches their natural climax before
cascading.
There is optimism at times, an elated feel within the track,
its peaks offer a heady mingling of electronics, guitar and drums, swirling crescendos
which provide momentary hooks.
As elsewhere in the album, these briefest moments of
rapture, quickly to descend to darker passages, like the fleeting glimpses of winter’s
daylight.
A sparse and beautiful track, Dim arises with a certain fragility, its layers build gently before
Lindberg and Hedlund’s drums are allowed to accompany as the track finds its
trajectory, continuing to take shape. Its transience allowing it to float
somewhere above ground, though managing to wrench at the heart.
At its peaks it offers such ecstatic beauty before returning
the listener back into their seat. If there is a contrast of light and dark,
night and day throughout the album, Dim,
despite its name seems to linger within the light for the longest, though when
eventually enveloped by the inevitable night, the skin shivers. You’d be
forgiven for not noticing the tracks length due to its immersive qualities; caught
on the breeze with the sounds.
Vocals roll in at the nine minute mark in line with the
intricacies of their depictions.
“From the skyline dark clouds move in. They shroud me with her cold
cover.
Eyes like daggers puncture the skin. Isolated in a room with no others.
Where do I turn when all hope is lost? Where do I find forgiveness?
My search for salvation has begun. To find a place where our hearts beat as one.”
Eyes like daggers puncture the skin. Isolated in a room with no others.
Where do I turn when all hope is lost? Where do I find forgiveness?
My search for salvation has begun. To find a place where our hearts beat as one.”
The sense of dissociation found throughout the album,
lyrically at least ends Dim with an
agonistic implosion. It’s here that we find the artistic pinnacle of the album,
with its desperate searching and ultimately crushing poignancy.
Themes of male loneliness in Perssons lyrics, are embedded
throughout and provide a further conceptual focus throughout the album[8].
Sonically you feel wrenched at times, as notes are stretched, and space opens
between the sparse and raw interplay of instruments.
Electronics pulsate and interrupt, as raw energy is
unleashed and the track is forced to collapse on itself, its fragility and
impermanence once more apparent. The pulse eventually calming and slowing to a
close.
This steady pulsating heartbeat eases us into our closer Dark City, Dead Man. If Dim was our moment of light, we will be
ending in darkness. This massive track, moves with a speed fitting to its
density.
The momentum carries it through, unstoppable at times as the
eight strong group organise. With its many chops and changes, we are led
through dark city streets, offering unrivalled immersion.
For a long time this closed many a Cult of Luna set, and
perhaps for this reason it is best experienced in live setting. You are
required to give yourself over and embrace its oblivion. Its final climax is
one of sensory overload, white lights flash as the band erupts. I’ll let this one speak for itself.
“I let go and fall deeper. This will be the end of me.”
.
It’s the imagery (delivered sonically of course) which this
album conjures that really makes it an outstanding and important record. Whereas
conceptually SATH’s intent is more
loosely delineated, perhaps more humble, than its successors (Eternal Kingdom, Vertikal & Mariner),
it forms a cohesive whole. The overall aesthetic emerges from the sum of its
parts, and it feels that whether knowingly or not, embedded within wider social
commentaries.
If its aim was to reflect the environment where it was
recorded, then it is a resounding success. Whereas, its emotive narrative is powerful and
feels intertwined with this landscape.
This association of certain sounds with place or theme is an exciting prospect and one which Cult of Luna
seem to be adept at doing (at least over the last three “conceptual” records
they have yet to slip up).
That this association exists, points to the influence of wider
social influences. I wonder for instance whether I would identify such
pictorial references in non-western sounds? Or perhaps it’s just that my senses
have been influenced by a combination of graphic design, photography and press
releases? When it comes to aural representations of certain landscapes, I am reminded of the claustrophobic
post-industrial dearth of Birmingham envisioned by Napalm Death; or on another
extreme, the intentional Romantic creations of Grieg, who tapped into traditional
folklore and folk music to depict an idealised cultural landscape. It is as though there exist socially recognised correlates of sound, evolved as human histories are entangled with the environment.
The artwork itself plays an important role here,
streamlining perception and expectations of what sounds lie within. The hues of
greens, the eerie half-light of the Scandinavian winter and the vast expanses
captured in the photography, combined with the minimal graphic design put
together by Erik Olofsson. Olofsson acting essentially in a role of artist in
residence equally as musician (at least since Salvation), a role he has continued, creating the artwork for Mariner despite leaving the band in
2014.
I have always been impressed at how well the fit of the
album artwork, the colour schemes and graphic design have fit with actual sound
of the album, as well as the overall theme[9].
Here there is a certain complexity hidden within simplicity, as though Rothko
was commissioned to create an Umeå landscape in green white and black. This
visual imagery clearly plays an important role in the creation of a Cult of
Luna album[10].
.
The emotional intensity throughout SATH’s hour duration is powerful, though with its spacious and
organic approach it’s never claustrophobic or overwhelming. The dissociation depicted
is real at times, but with the reflective beauty of the countryside envisioned,
this provides only introspection which is, in the end only positive.
The outside world finds its way into the music, sending
shivers like gusts of wind in its darkest moments; bringing warmth and optimism
at its lightest.
With such on point symmetry throughout between sound, art
and lyrical narrative Somewhere Along the
Highway is a stunning and cohesive piece of work of audio-visual merit, its
poetry ever revealing upon further listen. A modern masterpiece.
At the same time an extended version of Marching to the Heartbeats, entitled Heartbeats was released as a download
with the intention to be kept alive by file sharing.
[1] http://www.ponto-alternativo.com/cult-of-luna-somewhere-along-the-highway-holds-a-certain-significance/
[2] Somewhere Along the Highway was ranked
#5 in Decibel’s Best of 2006 Top 40 (interestingly #2 was super group Battle of
Mice’s A Day of Nights (featuring
Julie Christmas) and #31 Made Out of Babies Coward,
so you could say this year’s Mariner
is a perfect anniversary collaboration). http://www.rocklistmusic.co.uk/decibel.htm;
http://www.earache.com/archive/cultofluna/Decibel_06_Top40_CoL.jpg
[3] On
the subject of extensive touring following the acclaimed Salvation. Johannes, November 2015, taken from liner notes of Somewhere Along the Highway vinyl
reissue (Earache, 2016)
[4] http://www.lordsofmetal.nl/en/interviews/view/id/1357
[5]
Chuter, J. 2015. Storm, Static, Sleep: A
Pathway Through Post-Rock. Function Books. London: p235.
[6] http://www.metalunderground.com/bands/details.cfm?bandid=1473&tab=news&page=3
[7]
Johannes, November 2015, taken from liner notes of Somewhere Along the Highway vinyl reissue (Earache, 2016)
[8] An
influence on this theme for Olofsson is reportedly the novel Life And Times Of
Michael K by J M Coetzee http://metalstorm.net/pub/interview.php?interview_id=376
[9] I
am reminded of how the bells appear from the blissful wave of drones in Crossing Over from Salvation, beckoning toward a pure white light of the beyond as
depicted in its cover artwork.
[10]
Erik Olofsson discussing the importance of imagery in the creation of Vertikal https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=149&v=02lZaL_0aSU
