I’ve been dwelling on the sad reality of the UK no longer being in the EU. I believe I’ve mentioned this before. Sorry if I have. I’m still sore and bitter about it. I’ve been feeling depressed about how it’s going to impact my move to Norway, the lives of other Brits with dreams of starting new lives in Europe, as well as future generations who won’t know what ‘freedom of movement’ amongst our neighbours feels like.
Still, the music of Norwegian project Nordein came to my rescue the other day, and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve repeated their debut album Nordariket.
Nordein is the solo venture of the ridiculously talented multi-instrumentalist Jørn Øyhus. I felt that what was contained in the six tracks was everything I needed to find and hear to help me through this difficult time. I needed to be taken the northern reaches my heart calls home, and I have been. Each time I’ve listened to Nordariket, I’ve been transported away across the North Sea to the dense forests, lofty mountain peaks and shimmering fjords. I was in a shop yesterday, waiting in a queue to buy dehumidifiers, but, in my head, I was in Norway finding solace in Nordariket’s Nordicness.
I live in the lowlands myself, with a relatively short drive up to the mountains. To me ‘mountain music’ is more about the musical connotations than the physical landscape itself. NORDEIN was born in the mountains, and the music reflects my inner world when I’m at total peace. I love the ocean and the forest too, but the soul and the sheer might of the mountains really resonate with something in me. The mountains are ruthless, relentless and at the same time so heartbreakingly beautiful and timeless. To me they are the closest natural representation of immortality and eternity I can imagine. That is something I try to capture with my music, so I have basically set up a lifelong Sisyphos scenario for myself.From an interview with Metal 1.
Nordariket is a gorgeous album. It’s well-paced and perfectly arranged with sublime vocals, distinct and diverse instrumentation and pristine production – like the landscape it was birthed from. And the cover art, my gods. It’s what drew me to the album in the first place.
Every track is a gift, but the two I found myself going back to most often were Klok og Tagal and Alvadans. This mountain music is a balm for my struggling soul and will, I believe, form the foundations of the soundtrack that will help me move forward and reach my home amidst Norway’s rugged mountain ranges and untamed forests.