MORK
Syv
PEACEVILLE
6/10
BLACK METAL: The scene was the 2024 edition of the Maryland Deathfest where Norway’s Mork was headlining one of the days at the indoor Ram’s Head stage. Mostly unfamiliar with them aside from hearing the name dropped once in a long while, seeing the occasional mention in magazine ads, and still trying to wrap my fading eyesight around their logo, my much more worldly pals informed about their long history: 20 years deep; responsible for a handful of albums; how it’s essentially a solo project of Thomas Eriksen (also of October Moon, The Deathtrip and Udåd); about how they ordinarily play festivals overseas to warm receptions and so on and so forth. My brief personal interaction with a couple of the band’s members had me walking away from the exchange thinking, “Nice dudes, much more talkative than the majority of Norwegians I’ve ever met or known.”
While none of this has any bearing on the content of Mork’s seventh full-length (Syv translates to “seven”), you gotta start somewhere, as they say. And let’s just say that my personal launch with Mork was a positive one, despite Metal Archives listing off their lyrical themes as focused on “Misanthropy, Satanism, Occultism, Paganism, Norwegian nature, Darkness.” The style they/he purveys and explores falls in line with the Immortal and Taake side of the equation where the chromatic iciness that has become as synonymous with Norse black metal is tempered with bits and pieces of outlying influence. Being that this is my first recorded exposure to Mork, it’s not my place to say how commonplace some Eriksen’s diversions and deviations are, as he employs everything from stadium-sized hair metal (the breakdowns in “I Tåkens Virvel” are full-on spandex stuffers) and Caledonian landscape folk à la Saor (“Holmgang,” “Tidens Tann”) to spidery, gothic post-punk (“Utbrent”), plodding pub rock (“Ondt Blod”), and even brief brushes with orchestral/industrial clang ’n’ clatter (“Til Syvende Og Sist”).
Mork’s penchant for exploration, however, can be pulled two steps back into the reality of uniform black metal when the linear drumming and hypnotic riff washes are highlighted in the likes of “Med Døden Til Følge.” But, Eriksen will turn around and mix the bass at volumes first wave Norwegian black metallers would have had conniption fits and aneurisms over. Where Syv lacks is its absence of a knock-out punch or combo that’ll power any one of their compositions head and shoulders above the rest. The album works as a cohesive whole, but there’s a discouraging amount of flatlining at work that has its nine songs chugging along a horizontal beeline. Nothing truly jumps out as anything that will generate ear-perking excitement. It’s an oddball record—one that makes definite left-field steps in the creation of distinction, but one that at the same time comes across as so unswerving as to be achingly ordinary. ~ Kevin Stewart-Panko
