(written by Islander)
Today, on the eve of its release, we present a full stream of a new album by the one-person German band Galvornhathol, whose name (we are told) “is derived from Tolkien’s Sindarin script and can probably translated to ‘(dark) metal axe'”. That is intended to draw a contrast between the man-made world of iron and axe and the band’s lyrical themes, which connect to spiritualism (non-religious) and nature.
With respect to those themes, we’ll begin by sharing Galvornhathol‘s description of the new album:
“III” concludes the trilogy that started with the conveniently titled “I“. A journey from the earth, to below the clouds and now to the stellar realm of stars and galaxies. Tinged with metaphors for the facets of human life, encased in an interstellar poem of the matter, dark and light, all round us, that we call “nature”. Providing an uneducated guess of what our future might hold; providing we keep living our present, the listener might come to the conclusion that, while we are able to observe objects that are millions of lightyears away, we refrain from looking ahead into our own time to come. Whatever the future might hold; onwards. Ad Astra.
In moving from I to III, Galvornhathol has also moved musically. The movements are reflected in the changes among the albums, but also among the songs within this new full-length. This one includes 11 songs, which is a lot, but they are relatively compact, mostly in the range of three to four-and-a-half minutes. In their stylistic composition, they share some common features, but also differences.
At a high and imprecise level, the music could be said to incorporate varying elements of metal and alt-rock, including shoegaze and ambient music, but also ingredients of black and death metal. It’s often hard-charging, head-moving, and head-spinning, but leavened with experiences of divergent kinds.
The opener “Voids” combines sounds of dark immensity and sparkling mystery. It brings gigantic booming grooves, riffage that frantically sizzles and swarms, and swirling overlays that inspire wonder. Its bottom-end upheavals are as deep and heavy as an earthquake, while the whirling guitars and shimmering synths are often bright and ethereal. The words come in searing screeches, and are based on Olber’s paradox, “an argument in astrophysics and physical cosmology that says that the darkness of the night sky conflicts with the assumption of an infinite and eternal static universe.”
“The Hunter” comes next, and it too is an earth-quaker, but also a big rocking muscle-mover. It includes shining and slithering guitars, sinister but seductive, and also darting guitar-pulses, gentle acoustic strumming, notes that ring like inviting chimes, and cosmic ambience at the end (which continues the connection to the album’s overarching stellar themes).
The music’s most dramatic contrasts continue as the album unfolds — the contrasts between the depth and titanic impacts of its drum- and bass-work, the ringing clarity of the guitar-leads, the shoegaze-whir of the riffing, and the stratospheric splendor of the keys. What also continues is the effectiveness of the music in channeling changing moods — moods of fear and confusion, of peaceful contemplation, of strength and resilience, of being awe-struck and humbled by the vast mysteries of nature.
The intensity of the music ebbs and flows, and that’s also effective. The bombastic gut-punches that drive the rhythms are damned compulsive, and the darting, rippling, and slashing guitars damned exhilarating, but Galvornhathol wisely breaks from those again and again, creating moments of introspection and acoustic-accented soft beauty, or of synth-driven Milky Way wonder.
Galvornhathol also sometimes breaks from the panther-like snarls and shrieks to deliver deep and distorted death-growled words (as in “Sternentanz” or “Andromeda“) or evocative singing (in the folklike but also increasingly turbulent ballad of “Neptun“). There’s also one instrumental on the album, “Laniakea“, and it might be the most jubilant of all the tracks.
You’ll also discover that many of these songs are extremely catchy, not just because of the bowel-loosening punchiness of the rhythms but also the kookiness of the riffs and melodies. Some of you know we have an infectious song list at the end of every year; it will surprise me if one of these isn’t on it, though picking just one will be a challenge.
It all concludes with the cinematic “Asymptote”. The dramatic spoken words in that piece are in German. The translation I was provided shows them to be poetic and moving. I hope the translation of that one (and some others where the words are in German) will be provided along with the digital download.
Well, enough with the words, on to the music, which I hope you’ll enjoy as much as I have:
On the new album, C. did everything — writing and performing the music and lyrics, recording, mixing, and mastering; and even creating the artwork and logo and making the photo up above.
The album will be digitally released on March 21st, and C. recommends it for fans of: Alcest, Secrets of the Moon, Tribulation, Thou, Ulver, Lantlos, October Tide, Jesu, Hum, Deafhaven, Saturnus, MØL, Eternal Tears Of Sorrow, In Mourning, Obsequaie, Rotting Christ, Thy Catafalque, and Winterfylleth.
PRE-ORDER:
https://galvornhathol.bandcamp.com/album/iii
FOLLOW:
https://www.facebook.com/galvornhathol/
https://www.instagram.com/galvornhathol/