Burzum ‎"Sôl Austan, Mâni Vestan" Cassette

Somewhere between the reign of the sun and the moon lay that mystical time which some refer to as magic hour. Much has been made about this small division within the 24 hour cycle of the heavens, thus it seems only natural for Burzum to adopt it as a subject for a return to the ambient part of said band's controversial history. It's debatable as to whether this band ever truly grasped the full scope of what this style has been since its rise in the 20th century, but its influence has had a lasting impact on all of the key players in the early Norwegian 2nd wave, and its impact upon Varg has been arguably the most overt. As such, it wouldn't be out of place to suggest that Burzum doesn't create ambient music in the classical sense (forgive the oxymoron there), but rather exists in its own contemplative world where the best label to attach to it is ambient music.
It is necessary to compare and contrast "Sôl Austan, Mâni Vestan" with its predecessors for purposes of context, though it does not necessarily imply a superiority of stylistic device on any of the 3 albums' part, but more a great strength of final outcome. This album does not suffer from the low-fidelity midi-keyboard character of "Dauði Baldrs", but it finds itself stylistically closer to said album in terms of instrumental timbres, largely employing a virtual orchestra with a slight folksy tinge to it, though perhaps a better comparison could be made to the 14 minute ambient song "Tomhet" which employs a similarly restful and nostalgic character. The quality of the keyboard sounds does come a bit closer to what is heard on "Hliðskjálf", but it doesn't come off as overtly Eastern influenced from start to finish, though those influences do play a role at times. But as a whole, this album makes itself distinct primarily by a greater level of depth and variation, though at times it does find itself reverting back to similar note groupings that suggests a recurring concept.
The moods that are painted from one song to the next is primarily where this album succeeds in transcending the barrier between simply being a trance-inducing series of minimalist meandering and a magical, otherworldly experience. Things begin on something of a mysterious note with "Sôl Austan", where phasing synthesizer tones and streaming 3 note motives paint the picture of a portal to another realm. As things progress, a more percussive and tribal variation on the still restful tone of this album emerges in "Rûnar Munt Bû Finna", in turn paving the way for an airy ensemble of synthesized pluck-string sounds in "Sôlarrâs". And like any good album tied to a singular concept, this one finds itself coming full circle by the time "Mâni Vestan" fades in with a mixture of pluck-string sounds and a flowing synthesized bow-string atmosphere, rolling through like an extravagant comet in the night sky, before the album closes on a misty contemplative note with "Sôlbjörg", featuring a slightly distorted mixture of guitar and piano sounds as it floats away like a fog before the setting sun. It might be a cop-out, but this truly is an album that will either be completely loved with the affection of an eternal lover or scoffed at as some sort of bizarre hiccup after a consistent series of post-rock influenced black metal. There is definitely a particular context in which this music functions and it is largely for that of daydreaming or meditation, and it functions quite well in that capacity. Granted, contemplation is not the usual road that the typical metal fanatic goes for when there are perfectly good neck vertebrae to be thrown out of alignment, but Varg has never really made music for the typical listener by any standard. Maybe the writer of this review is just making lofty excuses for liking something that most don't, but at the same time, this is one of those albums that is worth making excuses for.

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