Lars Leonhard - Erstwhile

self-release: 2016

I didn't think I'd get the chance to stress test my Leonhard Science so soon. Okay, I did – it's not like my listening/reviewing order just springs up out of nothing. For sure there would be more Lars music coming (because of the big-huge amount I got sent), but somehow I mentally blocked Erstwhile in the queue. It's like, being so razor-focused (and excited!) to cover stuff like coldwave, ancient Fax+, and Viking metal made me forget what would follow. To say nothing of what's in store after this. Plus, having done the double-dip of Dark Tales From The Woods and Deep Venture, you'd forgive me for not being quite so enthused about another Lars record so soon. I may have proved there were differences between his albums if you played them back-to-back, but I needn't a third to prove it further, do I?

Even then, I had something thematically tangible to work with. Dark Tales was quite explicit in its theme compared to Deep Venture, whereas the latter was general enough you could imagine it soundtracking either underwater exploration or solar ultra-vids. Erstwhile, however, seems to be about music existing for its own sake. Perhaps a general mood of tranquility and reflection, but nothing so definitive as many of Lars' other works. In fact, this may have been the first time Mr. Leonhard ever went so abstract, so that's at least one talking point in Erstwhile's favour. Just not one that lets me wax the bull for a given amount of self-imposed word count, especially in a music scene filled with deliberate wallpaper songcraft.

Not to turn this 'review' into another reflection on the so-called struggles of writing about music, but there isn't much here to go into depth with. I've reviewed eight of his albums up to now, so folks should be well-versed in his downtempo dub techno style, and Erstwhile doesn't do much to shake his formula up. The opening portions of the album stick to the slower tempos, with a couple steady-beat offerings towards the end (Pillow is basically prog at its BPM). A requisite piano indulgence with chirpy birds and other quaint field recordings leads us out in Freedom, properly selling you on the whole 'tranquil music for tranquil times' theme, even if the bulk of Erstwhile still features Lars' more techno take on downtempo dub.

And yes, when stacked against the other two Lars albums I've reviewed this month (!!), this one does stand out as distinct from them. It may not be so thematically concrete as Dark Tales and Deep Venture, but an album of music simply being present for reflective times remains one to hang onto. Like, how many lonesome piano pieces of been created for that very reason? Still, I won't deny being far more enthralled by Lars' muse when he's taking on specific ideas. Like night trains, or the sun, or deep forests, or stars, or... um, space, and, uh, cosmic dust... Dude's got quite a fixation on space, 'kay?

Ensiferum - Ensiferum

Spinefarm Records/Fontana: 2001/2008

We all knew this was coming, eh? It's all Blood Music's fault (Blood Music!!). While browsing the label's website for synthwave and CBL, I noticed many striking pictures of Vikings, and couldn't help but wonder what the music within sounded like. When I heard some, a quickly realized I had to hear more, more, MOAR!! Okay, not that much more, but enough for an exploratory dig based on reviews found on Sputnik Music. How novel.

Why Viking metal? I'm not really sure, to be honest. Absolutely there's a romanticism surrounding the peoples of Scandinavia, those who ventured far into lands and waters no sane human dared go. Plus, all that rich lore in their pantheon of pagan Gods, ripe for retelling and such. They also were kinda' massive pricks to their European neighbours, but eh, so was everyone else to everyone else in those times. Basically, my scant metal music indulgences typically go for the escapist, and Viking metal is definitely that, while grounded in some semblance of historical fact. This is my excuse for taking Viking metal somewhat seriously, while still snickering over things like fantasy metal.

Ensiferum was the band that got my attention, so it's only appropriate (and alphabetically fortuitous!) that we're kicking this off with their debut, self-titled album. I had zero idea what to expect going in – maybe something harking back to '80s metal like Manowar? I hadn't counted on the evolution of thrash, power, and death metal having been so thoroughly ingrained in Northern Europe, that even the Viking stuff would be doing it. Just... holy cow, all those blast beats and shredding! Not to mention raspy growl of lead singer Jari Mäenpää going on about folkish tales of Gods and men. At least, that's what the liner notes tell me, as I can barely understand him most of the time, his voice often buried under the aggressive layers of guitars. Was this just how death metal was mastered at the turn of the century?

But yeah, after an acoustic folk ditty for an intro (played on a Finnish instrument called a kantele), it's just go-go-GO after, a relentless assault of guitars, drums, epic power chords, operatic choir choruses, and it's glorious! Okay, maybe a bit on the corny side too, but only if you don't buy into the whole vibe, and Ensiferum, they win you over immediately. Just as you're acclimatizing to the ridiculous speed of their music, in comes one of those choruses celebrating honour and adventure and all that good stuff. Some songs go a little slower (Token Of Time, Treacherous Gods), others heavier (Old Man, Abandoned, Eternal Wait), including brief downturns back into acoustic folk. All is again overcome by d'at galloping metal though, right up to final song Goblin's Dance, more of a metal jig, complete with flute action. Judas Priest namedrop here.

So yeah, great first impression into this realm of Viking metal, but I didn't go on this journey for just one album's worth. Stay tuned...

Dreamfish - Dreamfish

Fax +49-69/450464/Avatar Records: 1993/2001

So I got one of the O.G. collaboration albums from the Fax+ discography! Okay, not the O.G. version, as that one goes for stupid amounts of money now on the Discogs Market. Ah, then it must be the Rising High Records one, since this features the classic psychedelic fish artwork used. Nope. Gosh, one of the two Ambient World re-issues then? Not those either, fam'.

No, this comes care of Avatar Records, an Israeli psy trance outfit known for many Asia 2001 and Goa Gil releases. I've absolutely no idea how they nabbed the rights to this record – I didn't spot any other Fax+ or Rising High items – but hey, brand new, hard copy version of Dreamfish, now in my hands. That's a score no matter the circumstances.

Still, it wasn't an instant purchase, part of me wondering if I even needed this album. I already have two of the four tracks off here - School Of Fish and Fishology - and if general discourse is to be believed, those are the highlights. For sure I buy that of School Of Fish, its long dreamy soundscapes of shimmery acid and flowing synth washes a perfect melding of minds between the likes of Mixmaster Morris and Pete Namlook. Meanwhile, Fishology's weirdo environment is definitely on a more playful tip, with soft, jazzy rhythms accompanied by bouncy bleep-techno goofiness, all the while a groovy bassline and froggy electronics ride things out. I know this piece has its detractors, that it's not 'serious music' from the Fax+ camps, but for a label known for getting a tad too po-faced on occasion, it's nice to hear some lighthearted fun out of there too.

That just leaves Hymn and Under Water. The latter is the album's closer, and at fifteen minutes sounds mostly like a Mixmaster Morris joint, with his vintage ultra-dubby, tripped-out manipulations of orchestral strings and such into hypnotic dronescapes. Pure headspace stuff, quite indulgent, but also suitable for proper chill-room environments, such as they still existed in the early '90s when this was made. As for Hymn... hmm, is this ever the odd man out.

At nearly twenty-eight minutes in length, you probably think this a super-noodly Fax+ session, but with a bunch of Mixmaster Morris weirdness thrown in. Not so, going more for that ancient trance songcraft of simple, hypnotic synth leads and spacey pad work, though remaining beatless throughout, and just keeps going on and on, long after many natural end-points pass on by. Stylistically, it isn't much removed from what Namlook and Morris were doing before establishing their critically-hailed directions, thus less distinctive compared to the other pieces on Dreamfish. It doesn't even mesh with the overall tone of the album, as though Hymn was a separate jam before they went into this session with a clearer theme in mind. It's fine for what it is, but yeah, I'll still take School Of Fish and Fishology over it any day. Combined, they're shorter too.

Saitoh Tomohiro - Drawing Line And The Curve

Databloem: 2018

So remember when I bought a big ol' Databloem bundle, and spent the better part of last year (or two) getting through it all? Turns out I missed one! I know I've done this before, but it still boggles my mind that I can accidentally skip some CDs in my orderly queue, getting lost among all the other piles I let build up. What, I could just not buy numerous items until I'm all caught up? Balderdash, no one has such will-power, I tell you. No one! Even the sagest of Bhudda monks would be all like, “Damn, I gotta' get me that latest Fantasy Enhancing CD before the limited 100 run out!” Scarcity is a remarkable motivator.

I can't be entirely to blame for this one getting lost in the shuffle. I know nothing of Saitoh Tomohiro, so an album from the man wasn't high on my 'must hear' priorities. Plus, the cover art is part of Databloem's unassuming 'colour smear' period. I actually bought all the early CDs of this pseudo-series, but the others came in colours that always catch my eye (primarily blue), whereas red... eh, just doesn't resonate as much with me. So while Kaleidos, Upwelling: Emergence and Atlantic Fusion (Simple Songs too, kinda') easily stuck out and couldn't slip by if they tried, Drawing Line And The Curve didn't. Grammatically odd title wasn't helpful either.

And even if I had done some research digging before buying, Lord Discogs wouldn't have been terribly helpful with Saitoh Tomohiro. His most prominent work is as one-half of Colbets, who released five albums over five labels within a (approximately) five year span. Only one of these albums, Far Away From The Light, saw anything resembling a proper release (on Japanese ambient dub techno print AY; bvdub has appeared there). This here Databloem debut is his solo debut period, with practically no inlay or PR blurb detailing what his deal is. Sure making this a hard sell, lads.

But hey, Drawing Line And The Curves is quite nice, far as ambient is concerned – would you expect anything less from Databloem? While there is some of that Japanese 'tonal harmony with sporadic glitch' thing going on here, this is mostly a straight-forward outing in the genre, with the layered synth pads, varied gentle tones, droning soundscapes, and the like. There's a general theme of 'twilight atmosphere' throughout, whether losing oneself in foggy forests or city stargazing, and plays out in a rather traditional sort of way, with shorter pieces interspersed with longer ones, though nothing ever breaching the ten-minute mark.

Then, you notice something odd. One of these pieces seems to be going on longer than you thought it would. It's like it never ends, and you can't help but take notice how much in stark contrast it stands with everything else. Then you check the liner notes, and see the final piece lasts nearly twenty minutes, titled Day Will Break Soon. Given the theme of the rest of the album, that's apt.

Way Out West - Don't Look Now

Distinct'ive Records: 2004

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Like Hybrid, I never thought I'd dig into the discography of Way Out West. I liked the odd track I'd hear from them, but the general discourse of “each album is less interesting than the last” didn't inspire much curiosity from yours truly. Still, I took a chance on Intensity, quite enjoyed it, and will get around to their self-titled debut in due time. Meanwhile, I'm here reviewing by request Don't Look Now. Hey, that was, like, one of TranceCritic's first ever reviews! Let us never speak of it again.

Way Out West were often fancied prog-house taste-makers, helping usher in a young prog-breaks scene while Nick Warren handled a pile of Global Underground sets. There's very little taste-making going on with this album though, the duo clearly hearing the winds of change, hitching their wagon to the emergent McProg sound of the mid-'00s. They even went out and got their own vocalist, billed here as Omi (Lord Discogs tells me she performed as Emma Hall with Starecase prior).

This could have been a great album, easily on par with their older works – Nick and Jody remain talented producers no matter how 'basic' their songcraft gets. However, it feels like the sequencing of Don't Look Now is totally borked. It starts as you'd expect of a group trying to get on that Hybrid-prestige, Anything But You a decent prog-breaks outing while letting Omi do her thing. All momentum of the album is sucked out, however, with a watery trip-hop follow-up. Plus, if you came in already feeling suspect about Omi turning into a major focal point (centre-spot on the cover art doesn't help), this wouldn't have allayed your worries. Never mind she doesn't appear much after (only three more songs out of twelve total), the front-loaded impression is difficult to shake.

The middle run of tracks are all serviceable stabs at various forms of prog (house/breaks/slowbeat?) but I cannot deny my attention often drifting as they play. Chasing Rainbows' languid pace and dreamy guitars are quite nice, while Fear triggers all the right McProg-enjoying endorphins lurking somewhere in the recesses of my brain.

Still, I feel stupid for not really getting into this album until Killa, just because it's such a simple, dumb-fun tune (those chants! D'at thunderous beat!), your reptile brain can't help but take notice. From there, more intuitive breaks action comes care of Northern Lights (the sort of science some undoubtedly expected from the start), while Melt is a pleasant little ditty for Omi to take us out on. Oh, wait, they got Ulrich Schnauss with them for the actual closer, Absinthe Dreams a weirdo trip-hop session that certainly fits the title.

Regardless of how folks reacted to Don't Look Now, it ended up being a one-time outing. Omi would never return, while Nick and Jody split off for solo pursuits for half a decade. It does hold up better than most commercial prog of the day, but that's not a terribly high bar to pass.

Moljebka Pvlse - Discourse On Lightness

Reverse Alignment: 2017

I'd forgotten how intimidating it was venturing away from the comforting warm embrace of Cryo Chamber for my dark ambient and drone fix. So many artists out there, with distinct traits and approaches, all with strange exotic artwork. It's been a spell since I last took in a release from Reverse Alignment, and for good reason. I'd more or less tapped out all the names I was already familiar with (Ajna, Dronny Dark, SiJ) and had mostly sprung for all the albums with artwork that caught my eye (your Graders, The Long Journeys, and Buried On Vanths). Beyond that would be completely uncharted territory for yours truly, no easing in.

So headfirst into Discourse On Lightness I dove, for no other reason than it was catalogued nearby other albums I'd picked up from Reverse Alignment. And as is so often the case, I plucked out an artist with a fairly common story when it comes to these experimental drone sorts. Moljibeka Pvlse started releasing material in the early 2000's, floated about many labels (Cold Meat Industry, Fifth Week Records, AudioTONG, Gears Of Sand, Some Place Else) while maintaining his own label on the side (Isoramara). He eventually landed on Reverse Alignment, debuting there with A Transformation. Wait, that's not right. He actually appeared there a tad sooner, as the man behind Moljibeka Pvlse is Mathias Josefson, who was also part of Skare (of Grader fame). Huh, so I didn't go into this so utterly blind as I first thought.

Discourse On Lightness is Moljibeka Pvlse's second album on this label, with a yin-yang approach to the offered compositions. Three pieces are featured, each hovering around the twenty-minute mark (on the relative short side of things, where Josefson drone pieces are concerned). From the outset of A History Of Levitation, you're hit was one of those multi-layered, atonal, wall-of-sound drones that doesn't feel calm or relaxing in the slightest. I'd almost call it confrontational, but there's something strangely subtle about it too, like an undercurrent of melody that lulls you in for the duration. Supposedly, this is the 'yin' portion of the album.

Makes sense, as follow-up Between Lightness And Luminance is all about that stripped-down, minimalist, avante-garde symphonic sound. Sparse discordant strings, echoing field recordings and hushed vocal noises in empty chambers, creating a rather tense atmosphere as it plays out. The third track, A Field Guide To The Sunrise bridges the gap (completes the circle? fills the symbol?) between the two, mostly minimalist as well, morphing through creepier strings, bells and tones, but eventually transitioning into a rather tranquil, soothing stretch of ambience as the piece slowly winds down. Why yes, the 'sunrise' theme is quite apt.

So an interesting outing, this. Can't say I was a fan of the first two pieces, but the third does help put them in clearer context when taking in the album as a whole. As for how it relates to all the old-timey art within the inlay, I haven't a clue.

Technical Itch - Digitally Ascended Vol. 3

Tech Itch Recordings: 2017

Technical Itch was clearly content sticking to the singles market, so I gave up hope on ever hearing another long-player from the man, Diagnostics a once in a blue moon event. Much time passes, and I feel a tingling sensation in the back of my head, like a sentient nerve poking me with the question, “I wonder if Mark Caro has anything on Bandcamp?” And holy cow, does he ever, not only releasing tons of fresh material via his own label this past decade, but bringing in new artists that share his classic darkstep aesthetic. With actual physical media too, including CDs! Hot damn, I gotta' get me in on some of that action, but it seems the only hard-copy item currently available from Technical Itch himself is this Digitally Ascended Vol. 3. Whatever, it's gotta' be dope, the man incapable of wrong after such a storied career!

And... he's taken a stab at trap. *sigh*... When will I learn?

Personal petty petulance aside, I'm not tut-tutting Technical Itch here. Doing a modicum of research would have clued me into the fact that this Digitally Ascended series was started way back in 2009 as a means for Mr. Caro to explore that trendy dubstep thing going on, and carried on with other stabs at the slower, grittier side of bass music; for the d'n'b purists, he had the Progression Threat series. Some time in the mid-'10s, he started rolling Tech Itch Digital material into the parent label Tech Itch Recordings, finally offering hard copy options for stubborn holdouts (*cough*). Digitally Ascended Vol. 3 was the first of his own releases to come out during this phase, hence why it was the first Tech Itch item I saw available as CD. There's promise of more to come though, oh yes.

And you may be thinking, what's the big deal about Tech Itch branching out? Nothing at all, but this is one of those cases where his top-notch production doesn't fit the sound he's trying. Trap is all about stripping things down to bare essentials, the most rudimentary drum sounds available from your 808 emulator. In Mr. Caro's hands though, with his menacing widescreen atmospherics, these drum tracks end up sounding like demos or, at best, something from the halcyon days of audio bass sub-whoofer stress testers. The dubstep tracks are only marginally better, in that they aren't far removed from what the genre did sound like in its infancy.

Fortunately, Digitally Ascended Vol 3 offers surprisingly more variety than the early portions of the album suggested. There's a couple dark ambient tracks here (August Ends, Separka), for all your psychological thriller needs. Elsewhere, Rememberance edges as close to tech-step as this series would probably allow, while the final two cuts (Strangest Form Of Magic, Touched By The Gods) have more a trip-hop vibe going for them. Good stuff, just a shame the comparatively under-produced first half of the album sours a full listening experience for me.

Kriistal Ann - Delirious Skies

Werkstatt Recordings/Wave Records: 2014/2017

Not her first album, but considering it was the only one of Ms. Ann's Werkstatt recordings to get a re-issue with Wave Records, I feel safe calling it her breakout. It's better than Refraction too, Kriistal's actual debut rather rough and under-produced. Not that the whole minimalist, coldwave aesthetic is known for its cutting-edge studio quality – indeed, the rawer the better – but the songcraft was still comparatively basic. Sometimes you just need to get that out of your system though, expunge those hesitant jitters, get a feel for what works and what doesn't. Right, she wasn't any rookie, having already been making music with Toxic Razor for half a decade to that point. Something something solo spotlight versus shared stage, and all that.

I feel like I'm spinning lyrical wheels here. I want to hype Delirious Skies because it's the Kriistal Ann album that has She Walks In Beauty on it. That piece of music makes me feel things I didn't know I was capable of, and I fully admit it was the absolute best setting to hear it the first time doing that. There's nothing like seeing freshly-lain snow, two feet deep, over a mountain pass as twilight settles upon a starry sky, all the while hearing an all-encompassing mechanical bassline and icy synth leads as Ms. Ann's ethereal voice sing-recites poetry from Lord Byron. Holy cow, I get chills even thinking it!

It's also such a significant leap above in mood and tone compared to the music on Refraction, it feels like much of Delirious Skies is in service of bridging the gap. The opening salvo of songs Fortune Of Medea, Fright, and Punisher do sound stronger and more confident in vocal delivery (Ms. Ann's “ohh-ooh”s in Fright seem off-key to my ears, but she fully commits to giving it her all regardless), with the minimalist coldwave production tighter and punchier. Then she goes into more avent garde territory, with harsher synths, clunkier rhythms, and less singing in favour of operatic spoken-word delivery. Is there a technical term for that? I'm sure there is, like a whole Gothic sub-genre of it.

Anyhow, I don't like it as much, but again do appreciate the branching out. As mentioned, it all comes off in service of building Kriistal Ann into her final form as presented in She Walks In Beauty. And as if to sell the point any stronger, the Wave Records re-issue included a bonus track, Jewel Throne, which sounds leaps beyond even the album's earlier tracks, closer to what her later releases would become.

I'm not so foolish as to try and recommend Delirious Skies to anyone beyond the most ardent coldwave cultists. This remains incredibly niche music, and trying to sell it as anything but makes me feel like a Pitchforkian hipster gushing over witch house. Kriistal Ann simply struck the right endorphin trigger for yours truly, but who knows, maybe she will yours too. Maybe wait for a returning winter though.

Lars Leonhard - Deep Venture

self-release: 2015

Straight off, this is definitely different. Less moody, more a sense of subtle awe and graceful beauty. Even the trademark dubby production comes off softer and inviting, not so darkly atmospheric that it sounds like you're in a fog. Which makes sense since Dark Tales From The Woods was all about that setting, whereas Deep Venture is not. Thus we can conclude that, yes, each Lars Leonhard album is distinct from one another, and the only reason they sort of blend together in my memory is due to the time-gap I have between listening to each one. And, as a result of the generally subdued nature of his songcraft, it's his sonic aesthetics that typically stick to my membranes rather than any particular rhythmic pattern or melodic hook. We scienced this up hardcore, y'ah bwoyz!

(to find out what ever it is I'm going on about with this train-of-thought, oh ye' souls of future tense, scope out my previous Lars Leonhard album review right now!)

While Deep Venture isn't about any specific thing, it does have a general theme of exploration in the most mysterious domains of our little ball of rock and water. A significant chunk of the tracks here come with titles like Bioluminescence and Photophore, plus name-drops like Vampire Squid, The Singing Opah (a warm-blooded fish), and Osedax (bone-burrowing worms that feed on whale skeletons), all creatures of the bounding main, lurking deep within unfathomable fathoms.

Not to be outdone, even technical terms like Pelagial, Hydrogen Sulfide, Negative Termal Expansion, and Trophogenic Zone all bring to mind things that occur in bodies of water. Only two track titles don't specifically tie into these themes, Northern Stargazer and Retroreflector, but they can if you tilt your head the right way. Ah, yes, looking upon a clear, dark night before sending your recording instruments deep into the darkest waters below. Lovely mood setter, that.

As befitting an album with its sights set on deep aquatic ventures, Lars' distinct dubby production feels more tranquil his other albums. There's even breathing space for his subtle melodies, which I know is a weird thing to say for a producer's who's made his lane in dub. Sometimes they get overwhelmed by the layers of sonic depth in his other works, but not so much here. It's like he wants you focused on whatever particular critter his sonic camera has focused on, no time for getting lost in one's headspace.

In fact, the music on Deep Venture feels so custom-made for video accompaniment, I'm surprised there haven't been any aqua-related YouTubes with this used as a soundtrack. It's because NASA already gobbled up a bunch of these for one of their Ultra-HD 4K vids of the sun, isn't it. Yeah, the space agency had been plucking tracks here or there from Lars, but this one's a full half-hour long, half of Deep Venture. Now when folks hear Osedax, they won't think of bone-burrowing worms, but of solar eruptions.

Lars Leonhard - Dark Tales From The Woods

self-release: 2014

Another day, another Lars Leonhard album. Look, when I say I was sent a lot of them, I meant it, the man rather relentless in his output rate this past decade. Maybe not 'tech-house singles' or 'industrial noise experiments' relentless, but averaging a couple LPs per year ain't no slack either. Heck, since I was sent this then-current bundle, Lars has released five more albums. Guess that just happens when your sound is in high demand for NASA videos. Moar muzik for the Stellar Gods!

Thus I must reiterate I've exhausted almost all avenues in talking up Lars Leonhard. There may be a couple albums with specific reasons that went into their creation, but there hasn't been that much sonic difference between most of them, especially in his post-BineMusic era. He's found his lane in downtempo dub techno, and by g'ar, it's where he remains. Unless he has expanded a little more beyond that in more recent albums. I don't know, I haven't heard them yet. I'm still catching up in all these older ones.

So on first ear-glance, I don't have much unique to say about Dark Tales From The Woods, because my first impression is this is more of the same that I've come to expect from Mr. Leonhard. I wonder though, if this impression is due to the general listening gap I give between albums. If I actually played each one after the other, whether significant differences would emerge. Fortunately, due to alphabetical stipulation, I'm dealing with two Lars albums in a row, this one, and Deep Venture. This has given me an opportunity to properly examine them, and whether my lack of picking such distinctions out of other works is simply due to that aforementioned gap. Okay, enough fancy conceptual talk, let's get into Dark Tales From The Woods.

This was among the first (the first?) of Lars' self-released albums, though he still had at least one more outing in store for BineMusic (Passenger At Night). As such, his conceptual streak was still more specific than later efforts would go, though not so razor-focused as 1549 went. The opening track Three Oaks Legend is certainly a moody enough number to set things off, and we're right in the thick of that deep, immersive downtempo dub techno.

And mostly stay in that lane for the duration of the album. Yeah, a couple tracks go groovier than the rest (Forest Window, Rustling Leaves), some feature more of a proper techno pulse (Guardian Of Crows, Deep In The Fog), and others offer a lighter tone to the general mood (The Glade, Rustling Leaves again). It all kinda' blends together though, which makes sense for an album maintaining a consistent theme throughout. Would have been nice to have a journey into these woods, but if tales is what Lars wanted to tell, then tales it was.

Tune in next review to read whether Deep Venture ends up being 'more of the same', or starkly contrasted with this album. Oooh, suspense!