Telling the legendary story of the Eihwar clan by the fireside never gets old: springing from Ginnungagap, the primordial nothingness of Norse mythology, the two monsters known as Asrunn (vocals, percussion) and Mark (machines, vocals) conquered and convinced the hordes... almost before they were convinced themselves, as they told us in this interview. A dazzling and surprising success that, in the space of a year, saw them bring the house down at huge festivals (Hellfest, Wave Gotik Treffen...) and release their debut album via Season of Mist.
Aside from the initial surprise of discovering a music that, while drawing on Nordic imagery and fantasies, is totally unconcerned with any form of historical credibility in order to provoke earthquakes on the dancefloor, Eihwar was going to have to work hard to keep its freshness. Boom-boom electro, traditional instruments (some sampled, some not) and a contrast on vocals between Mark's menacing borborygms and Asrunn's hypnotic lines: the recipe is simple. Eihwar don't bother with any posturing or vain attempts to appear ‘credible’ or ‘serious’: their approach is fun and spontaneous, bringing a breath of fresh air to a trend that tends to forget to laugh at itself, but also to dream...
Because finally, behind its string of epic, cinematic hits (the galvanising backing vocals on the title track, the percussion of Ragnarök) and its conquering airs, Eihwar also exudes a kind of naive gentleness, an offer of escape that is both bellicose and solar (Volva's Chant and its progressive intensity, the atmospheric, minimalist conclusion Sir Mannelig that gives the album a narrative finale). Obviously, this apparent ease conceals a false simplicity: these two know exactly what they're doing and bringing their trances to life through music is second nature. Eihwar is not cerebral, but speaks to the gut, if possible with steel (which is still the best language when it comes to viscera): whispers and primitive vociferations set a mystical mood (Geri and Freki) before uniting around hard-hitting anthems. The general atmosphere behind the big cyber-pagan fiesta is martial, hallucinatory and poetic all at once.
Of course Eihwar is bound to be a hit. There's something universal and instinctive about these electronic pulses colliding with ancestral myths. The concept is solid, supported by fictional characters who bring the story to life, and simple enough to hook its audience immediately but also accomplished enough to appeal beyond the initial discovery. In short: clichés in the air of the times, stirred up with energy and blown on by a wind of freshness that's great fun. Purists will probably get out their pitchforks... If you'd rather sulk in your corner than join the party, that's your business. Eihwar won't ware much, they're busy dancing in the blood of their fallen enemies, and no spoilsport will tarnish their enthusiasm.
