MÚSPELL: AN ALBUM & ANALYSIS INFORMED BY OLD NORSE SOURCES

Alec Lowe

FOUNDATIONAL RESEARCH

When writing historically informed music from before the invention of modern notation or sound recordings, there are very few ways to ensure you have an accurate end product. Even among composers who devote their lives to studying and performing Old Nordic music, like Einar Selvik of Wardruna and Maria Franz from Heilung, much of the composition must be approximated. As this genre has evolved over the past few decades, it became clear to many die-hard composers that the importance of authenticity within this genre is eclipsed by the importance of the general effect on a listener. Even the most academic and authentic performers rely on electronic elements, sequenced synthesizers, and modern-day instruments to augment the moods they’re portraying. While many who find their way into this genre can become disheartened to learn this, the fact is, it’s because of our lack of knowledge regarding music within Old Nordic cultures that we’re granted a license for an abundance of artistic freedom.

While many who write this music aim for sounds that invoke primal responses from their listeners, many also aim to soothe and calm their listeners, using ambient, ethereal soundscapes. I wrote Múspell because I was enthralled by this genre from the moment I heard it. After only months of exposure to this music, I set myself on a path to enhance elements of Old Nordic music with aspects gleaned from Norwegian black metal from the 1990s (which was also inspired by Viking Age culture).

During the Viking Age, music notation was in its pre-infancy within the Catholic Church and reserved for liturgical music. It would be around 1,000 years before the first recordings were ever made on Edison’s wax cylinders. It’s impossible to know what medieval music truly sounded like. We do know, however, that they were incredibly skilled poets. Sophie Draheim, author of Draugaskáld: Volume I, a book of modern Nordic poetry, has a degree in Scandinavian literature studies from University College London. Shas said in a podcast interview with Old Norse scholar Dr. Matthias Nordvig,

“I sat down to write [dróttkvœtt meter poetry for the first time], and the rules were set out in front of me... I wanted to cry in about 5 or 10 minutes and rip up the paper in front of me, which I’m sure was quite a familiar feeling to skalds back in the day... It's very frustrating, even if you’ve studied it your whole life.”

Because Nordic peoples were incredibly skilled poets, and because the arts were an important aspect of their culture, we can deduce that they almost certainly would have been skilled songwriters. Many reconstructionists find that certain passages and stanzas work so well with music that they must have been performed that way originally. Most notably, the poem Drømde mik en drøm i nat, a 14th-century secular Danish tune found in the Codex Runicus was written alongside an early form of music notation. Other composers, like myself, look for ways to shoehorn stanzas that may have not been intended to be sung into a standard 4/4 musical meter.

The final motivation for my writing this album is socio-political. It’s no secret that Old Norse symbology and aesthetics have been appropriated by the alt-right and neo-nazis. Viking symbols and objects were carried, worn, and tattooed at the white-supremacist protests in Charlottesville, Virginia in August 2017, and again at the raid on the United States capitol building on January 6, 2021. The last whites-only church in the United States is a church that practices Nordic neo-paganism. The Anti-Defamation League (ADL) has placed several Old Norse runes and (formerly) sacred symbols on their hate symbols watchlist. Several of the most famous surviving Norwegian black metal artists, most notably Varg Vikernes, are avid and highly active alt-right nazi sympathizers.

Because of the association between Nordic culture and hate groups we’ve witnessed an emergence of many politically moderate, anti-hate groups and individuals standing up for their cultural heritage. Groups such as the Asatru Community (TAC) and Asatru UK (AUK) are attempting to reclaim these symbols from those who seek to use them for hate and fear. Many neo-pagan artists use their worldwide platform for good. Heilung, for example, opens every concert with a crowd call and response:

“Remember that we all are brothers. All people...descend from the one great being that was always there before people lived and named it before the first seed sprouted.”

It’s also worth noting that when Heilung played their October 2021 show at Red Rocks Amphitheater in Morrison, Colorado, they recognized the site was important to the local Native American tribes of the area and they performed a cleansing ceremony to open the concert alongside local Native American leaders. They purposefully inspire these kinds of interactions with other cultures and hope it will help in stopping the association between their beliefs and hate groups that stole their sacred symbols.

My goal with this album is similar. I hope to be another tally mark on the side of cultural reclamation and anti-hate in this modern battle for freedom and equality. I purposefully used and highlighted traditional percussion instruments from around the world to help showcase how this culture can easily and beautifully coexist with others. While I was initially devastated to learn of this seemingly inseparable association with hate mere months into making this album, it ended up being a motivating factor for me to finish and release it.

A NOTE ON THROAT SINGING & VOCAL TECHNIQUES

Most who listen to Old Nordic reconstructionist music quickly notice the atypical vocal styles. Historically, we only have one singular account describing Viking Age singing, which is an account by an Islamic traveler from Córdoba, Spain, named Ibrâhîm ibn Ya`qûb al-Tartushi. In the Islamic manuscript, Monument of Places and History of God's Bondsmen, we read his encounter with the Danes in modern-day Hedeby, Denmark. Besides many other incredibly interesting descriptions, we read his description of their vocal music. As translated by Noel Braucher:

“I never heard more hideous songs than the songs of the Sleswicks [Danes in Hedeby]; it is growling that emerges from their throats, similar to the barking of dogs but much more bestial than that.”

Most interpret this account as an exact description of Tuvan throat singing, as practiced by the Mongols. Specifically, many speculate that it must have been a Tuvan singing technique called dag kargyraa. This technique is particularly low and guttural. It produces overtones down to an octave lower than the fundamental pitch that is being sung, in a similar way to harsh “growl” vocals displayed in some modern-day metal vocals. Archaeologically we know that in the 10th century, Vikings would have been in contact with a majority of the Eurasian cultures of the world, including the Mongols via the Silk Road, so this is a plausible and widely accepted interpretation. Even if that isn’t the case, it would be equally easy to imagine them developing this vocal technique independently and cultivating it in their own way.

Throat singing is featured on all 4 songs, while “Múspell” and “Månens Barn” also feature a more powerful low growling, which is a more forceful vocal technique similar to throat singing. This technique can be heard on most death metal and metalcore albums from the past few decades.

INSTRUMENTATION

TAGELHARPA

I used a tagelharpa (horsehair harp) on 2 of the 4 songs, while it is most prominently featured in the track, “Geiri.” A tagelharpa is a Baltic instrument that has been found dated a few hundred years after the Viking Age. This is assumed to be a drone instrument that was played with a bow. I own a 3 string version, and it is thought to have been tuned to the equivalent (in modern equal temperament tuning) of scale degrees 1 (root), 5, and 1 (an octave higher). When bowed, this produces a drone that is neither major nor minor, which allows the performer plenty of liberty with their performance.

When a finger is placed on a string, the vibrating length of the string is changed and a new note is produced. This works exactly like modern-day string instruments, but without the need of a fretboard. When fingering only one string at a time, you are always left with at least one root and one fifth, when not touching the middle string. This keeps the sound full, despite any melodic variance added by the player.

I combined my tagelharpa performances with a unison hurdy-gurdy and cello section to augment its fundamental pitches and timbre. I found that the tagelharpa produces beautiful overtones, unlike any instrument I’ve ever heard in person. The grittiness and lack of overtone control give it the same characteristics of a heavily distorted electric guitar. Distortion, by definition, is simply the addition of overtones to an audio sample. I used my tagelharpa compositionally the same way I’d use a distorted guitar. On the track “Geiri,” you’ll notice once the guitar comes in, just how well it blends with the tagelharpa because of their sonic similarities.

DRUMS & PERCUSSION

While no archeological evidence of any drums exists from the Viking Age (skins and wood decay over time), it is unthinkable to most anthropologists that Scandinavia would have been the single place on earth where drums didn’t exist. Drums are almost always assumed to have existed in cultures that have no evidence of them, simply because of their ease, abundance, and because of the human inclination to create rhythm and pulse.

I used several modern floor toms ranging in size from 14”-18” in diameter. I used bass drums between 20”-22” and mounted toms between 10”-18.” Four of my mounted toms have goatskin drum heads that I sized and installed myself for this album. The rest use synthetic mylar heads with towels on top to give them a similar timbre to calfskin. Each drum is used in all 4 songs. A full drum set is featured only in the closing moments of the opening track, “Múspell.”

As a lifelong percussionist, the drumming on this album was very important to me and therefore was all performed by me. From a young age, I’ve studied drum set, orchestral, and marching percussion. In my college studies as a music composition major, I made a point to learn as many traditional percussion instruments as I could. These instruments are from all around the world: Ghana, Guinea, Cuba, Brazil, Morocco, Egypt, Turkey, Ireland, and India. I fell in love with all of these traditions, and I like to use their instruments on as many recordings as I can.

I used them on this album firstly to demonstrate regions of the world that the Vikings had likely explored, and secondly, as stated earlier, I wanted to combat hateful white-supremacist mindsets that the Vikings had a “pure” culture that was uninfluenced from non-white cultures. Due to the latter reasoning, I made sure to feature several of these instruments, and I never buried any of these instruments in the mixing stage of production.

GUITARS & SYNTHESIZERS

I used a modern 7-string electric guitar in drop tunings and a 5-string electric bass guitar to invoke the brutality present in Norwegian black metal. Like many artists in this genre, I placed higher importance on the mood my music portrays rather than the pure authenticity of the music. Therefore, synthesized drones are used in every single song.

SONG-BY-SONG BREAKDOWN

MÚSPELL

This song is named after Múspellheim, the first world created in the Old Nordic creation myth. I used this as the title for the album as well, seeing as it’s my first album associated with this project. The lyrics are taken from Section 4 of the Gylfaginning (The Deception of Gylfi), titled “Frá Niflheimi ok Múspelli.” Gylfaginning is a 13th-century manuscript written by the medieval Icelandic historian, Snorri Sturluson. The lyrics I used are as follows:

“Hvat var upphaf? Eða hversu hófst? Eða hvat var áðr? Fyrst var þó sá heimr í suðrhálfu, er Múspell heitir. Sá er Surtr nefndr, er þar sitr á landsenda til landvarnar. Hann hefir loganda sverð, ok í enda veraldar mun hann fara ok herja ok sigra öll goðin ok brenna allan heim með eldi”

Translated, they read:

“What was the beginning? Or how did it begin? Or what was before it? First was the world in the southern region, which was named Múspell. He who sits there at the land's-end, to defend the land, is called Surtr; he brandishes a flaming sword, and at the end of the world he shall go forth, and overcome all the gods, and burn all the world with fire.”

The song begins with an ambient drone and hard-panned whispers at different volumes to create a schizophrenic feeling. This is an effect used in the Nordic mythology-based video game series Hellblade, whose music (composed by Heilung) is what brought me into the genre in the first place. An alto flute is added to invoke primal feelings from an ancient time. An acoustic guitar in F# minor open tuning is added to brighten the mood. We then hear a male vocal choir begin asking about an ancient time before worlds existed, and different drums and percussion instruments are slowly layered, most notably north Indian tabla drums.

This continues to build until the climax of the opening section, where loose strings are rattled across the fretboard of a cello to sound like an awakening monster. Guitars make a bombastic entrance and the harsh lyrics abruptly answer the questions from the beginning by introducing the first realm, the fire-world of Múspellheim.

The beat continues as before with the omission of all ethereal elements, and the addition of chains and anvils. The fire-giant Surtr, who lives in Múspelheim and who will eventually be the catalyst for the events surrounding Ragnarök, is introduced and explained in a harsh verse, before a return to the opening chant. A flute serenade reminds us of the beginning of the song and leads us into the outro of the song. We hear intense guitar and drum features, which is where the drum set comes in. I overlaid the verse describing Surtr and the chants that introduce Múspellheim on top of each other as the instruments quickly descend into chaos. The drum set begins playing blast beats, which is a type of fast drum beat prevalent in black metal. It plays this along with several other percussion instruments that build in intensity and brutality before the last note is hit. The note is left unstable and detunes before silence takes us into the next song, “Himinjódyr.”

HIMINJÓDYR

This song, directly translated, means “Heaven’s rim.” It starts out with Irish rhythm bones playing a fast upbeat rhythm. I used this as a parallel to Heilung’s Maria Franz, who uses a similar rhythmic tapping of human bones in “Krigsgaldr.” A drone enters along with some big drums. I tried to mimic the drone used in “If I Had a Heart,” by Fever Ray, which is the theme song for the History Channel’s “Vikings” TV series. While it isn’t the most historically accurate representation of the Viking Age, I wanted to pay homage to it for sparking an interest in Viking culture inside me, and millions of others. Spoken poetry, a trope I’ve seen in almost every album within this genre, seemed obligatory. During the intro, I’m reciting stanza 5 from the Völuspaá (Prophecy of the Seeress):

“Sól varp sunnan, sinni mána, hendi inni hœgri um himinjódyr; sól þat ne vissi hvar hon sali átti, máni þat ne vissi hvat hann megins átti, stjörnur þat ne vissu hvar þær staði áttu.”

As translated by Henry Bellows:

“The sun, the sister of the moon, from the south Her right hand cast over heaven's rim; No knowledge she had where her home should be, The moon knew not what might was his, The stars knew not where their stations were.”

A drum feature follows the verse, where several types of west African and Afro-Brazilian shakers are used. 3 separate Caxixi can be heard playing a 2 over 3 polyrhythm. Accents within that rhythm can be heard from the Djembe Kessings, also known as Ksink Ksink. I used 2 different sized tambourines to imitate an ancient Egyptian Sistrum, in the same way Lou Harrison wrote for Sistrum in compositions such as “Canticle No. 3.”

After the drum feature, the main mood of the song is established by the multiple and simultaneous timbres of a Celtic harp, piano, and clean guitar. The transition between a Dm9 and a Dm9#5 chord creates a melancholy feeling with a spark of hope. The lyrics then enter.

The verses from this song are taken from an unnamed poem recited by Icelandic warrior and skald Þórir Jökull Steinfinnsson before he was executed in 1238. It is as follows (bold indicates lines used in the chorus as well):

“Upp skal á kjöl klífa, köld er sjávar drífa. Kostaðu hug að herða, hér skaltu lífið verða. Skafl beygjattu skalli, þótt skúr á þig falli. Ást hafðir þú meyja, eitt sinn skal hver deyja.”

As translated by Einar Kvaran:

“Climb on the keel, the sea spray is cold. Try to keep your courage up, here you will lose your life. Don’t make a [frown], even though the shower rains upon you. You had the love of maidens, each must die at some time.”

Also featured in the verses is a Navajo Flute, also referred to as a Courting Flute or a Native Flute. I called in a good friend who has been featured playing Native Flute on several recordings including for a Navajo Nation cultural documentary. I did this because of the profound feeling I felt witnessing the appreciation Heilung had for Native American culture.

The chorus features a war cry from the same lyrics. As such, I added a call and response between myself and a group imitating warriors on their way to battle. Background vocals can be heard and are performed by long-time friend and ambient black metal artist and Celtic harpist, Sarita Ford, who will be featured on the last 2 songs.

The song repeats itself in ABCBC form before coming to an extended meditative outro based on the A section intro. We can hear the Irish rhythm bones return, and instruments begin dropping out. As it strips down further and further, we end up with just the bones that take us into the next song, “Geiri.”

GEIRI

Geiri is an Old Norse term for “spear” seen in Hávamál (Words of Hávi). Hávamál is an anonymous Icelandic manuscript preserved within the Codex Regius. This Eddaic poem, written in Old Nordic ljóðaháttr meter, relays a monologue recited by Hávi (the High-One), who refers to himself as Óðni (Odin) to a presumed person or group of persons that were hospitable to him. This is the main source of Nordic philosophy today and contains wisdom that’s practical, spiritual, and esoteric.

This manuscript is also where we learn a lot about the suffering of Odin, and his eventual gift of immortality and wisdom. In stanzas 138-141 we learn Odin hung himself from a tree for 9 days and 9 nights. After a brief lapse into death, he is awoken with renewed wisdom and knowledge, including the discovery of sacred runes that help give him his mystical powers. Looking at stanzas 138 to 141, we can see a direct A to B cause and effect. As translated to English by Henry Bellows (Bold indicates the stanzas I used in “Geiri”):

“ I ween that I hung on the windy tree, hung there for nights full nine; With the spear I was wounded, and of ered I was, to Othin, myself to myself, on the tree that none may ever know what root beneath it runs... Then began I to thrive, and wisdom to get, I grew and well I was; Each word led me on to another word, each deed to another deed.”

Here is the short excerpt of repeated lyrics from the song “Geiri” in the original Old Norse:

“Geiri undaður og gefinn Óðni.”

The song begins on African Claves that were custom-made for me by a close friend. Large drums are added, followed by percussion instruments. A Nigerian Udu and Egyptian Riq are featured throughout the song, providing subdivisions and rhythmic interest. The listener is intentionally left feeling disoriented as to where the downbeat of the song is throughout the introduction. This is a common technique used in many types of metal music and math rock that I’ve yet to see used in this genre, so I thought it may be an enjoyable result. The entrance of the tagelharpa solidifies the pulse of the music, and the beat is fortified by the addition of even larger bass drums that enforce the rhythm while omitting beat 1 of each measure.

The verse contains no lyrics, simply vowel sounds harmonizing with each other. They are sung by the previously mentioned Sarita Ford and resemble vocal styles and harmonies seen on Heilung’s Norupo, which itself was influenced by vocal harmonies seen in Bulgarian vocal music.

The chorus features similar harmonies with underlying throat singing styles we’ve heard in previous songs. After the first chorus, we hear a complication in the rhythm, as the exact rhythm that has been playing since the beginning is doubled in tempo by the higher-pitched drums, while it remains at normal tempo in the lower-pitched drums. This adds intensity and helps the song feel like it has more forward momentum.

The crux of the song comes with the explosive entrance of the electric guitar and bass guitar. The omission of beat 1 and resolution on beat 2 is one of my favorite compositional techniques for all types of music, and instead of a drum fill, I decided to lead that resolution with a guitar harmonic sweep. The section progresses to an incredibly dissonant minor 2nd (E against F) and is held that way for 8 measures, before resolving again, on beat 2. Again, that resolution is led in with a guitar harmonic sweep.

After the guitar feature is over, we are led into a more rhythmically simple section where the verse vocal harmonies and the chorus vocal lyrics are stacked on top of each other. This leads us to the outro, which builds similar to the intro, but the beat has been flipped when referenced to the African clave pattern. This is done, again to disorient the listener. As those instruments fade out, we are led into the final song of the album, “Månens Barn.”

MÅNENS BARN

Of all the songs on the album, this one is the “odd one out.” I began this song in a songwriting class roughly one week after discovering this genre of music. I knew nothing of the culture or language, nor did I ever anticipate releasing it. It hadn't even occurred to me to make more songs like it for an EP at that point. It was an assignment with a tight due date, and I treated it exactly like that. Sarita Ford is again featured singing in all of the verses, and I’m featured singing harsh vocals throughout.

The lyrics for this one have less history than the rest, but they are equally interesting. Before knowing anything about the intricacies of Scandinavian medieval history, I had just done a couple of minutes researching Heilung and found out they used old texts for their lyrics. That prompted my Google search: “traditional Scandinavian folk lyrics,” or something similar. I came across a Swedish vocalist by the name of Maxida Märak who sings pop and hip-hop versions of traditional Sámi folk tunes, from a style known as Joik. Not knowing anything about Sámi culture, and not understanding the term “traditional” doesn’t mean “ancient,” I figured that I had what I needed and I got to work. I took a line, or a fragment of a line from several of her songs, and translated them. I took the bits of the phrases I liked, compiled them, and reorganized them into my own. I listened to how she pronounced words and imitated it as close as I could for an American with no Swedish experience.

They turned out like this:

“Ingenting är för evigt, allting har ett avslut. Vindarna vänder, vi lever på lånad tid. Tid brinn som en fackla, vi är månens barn. Gå igenom norrskenet.”

Translated into English:

“Nothing is forever, everything has an ending. The winds are turning, we live on borrowed time. Time burns like a torch, we are children of the moon. Walk to the northern lights.”

Then I took a couple of tropes from Heilung and other Nordic Ambience artists: war horns, which are featured all across the genre, and arrow impacts as heard in Heilung’s “Svarand.” I borrowed a colleague’s baritone guitar to create the dirtiest and darkest guitar tones I could. I recorded a few tinkling metals and chains and added a synthesized drone. The drums used are an Argentinian Bombo Legüero, and an Irish Bodhran recorded 8 times each. Due to the fact that I wrote this song in a songwriting class for pop-music artists, the form is very straightforward: Intro-Verse-Chorus-Verse-Chorus-Bridge-Chorus-Outro.

Despite any sense of history or authenticity being thrown out the window on this one, I included it because I believe it showcases an important step on my personal journey toward becoming a more informed and responsible student of a history and a culture that is still alive today.

SOURCES

1. Anonymous. The Poetic Edda. Translated by Henry Adams Bellows, vol. I&II, Princeton University Press, 1936.
2. Barratt-Peacock, Ruth, and Ross Hagen. Medievalism and Metal Music Studies. Emerald Group Publishing, 2019.
3. Hagen, Ross. Darkthrone’s A Blaze in the Northern Sky. Bloomsbury Publishing USA, 2020.
4. Ibn Ya`qûb al-Tartushi, Ibrâhîm, and Abu Yahya Zakariya' Ibn Muhammad al-Qazwini.
5. “Monument of Places and History of God's Bondsmen.” c. 1250
6. Nordvig, Mathais, and Daniel Farrand. Nordic Mythology Podcast Ep 61 - Skalds, Poetry, and Crotums with DraugaSkald. Episode 61, April 28, 2021.
7. Omega Viking Series. Vikings, Norse Mythology and Nordic Metal Music: Strong Heathen Fists from The North. Omega Viking Series, 2019.
8. Price, Neil. The Viking Way. Oxbow Books Limited, 2019.
9. Pulsiano, Phillip, and Paul Leonard Acker. Medieval Scandinavia. Taylor & Francis, 1993.
10. Sturluson, Snorri. The Prose Edda. Translated by Jesse Byock, Penguin UK, 2005.