Eivør
Tungl
Tungl is a whole mess of contradictions and deflated expectations. You might expect Eivør to be making dark-folk or Nordic-folk from the album’s whole build, but she’s not. You might then hope for some analagously enrapturing in lieu, but no luck there, either. You might then settle for something defined, at the very least, for her Nuclear Blast debut; alas, not.
Rather, Tungl is the kind of album that seeks revitalisation and to push boundaries, only to emerge with, like, an idea-and-a-half’s worth of work. When that’s spread over ten tracks, it’s incredibly thin. At least there’s effort made, though, in the clear, cold atmosphere and the way that the Faroese and Icelandic languages have an air of mysticism to their shape. Quite what the processed beats crowbarred among it all are meant to add is unclear, but it’s certainly not much of a good thing. Mostly, they’re just incongruous with literally everything else Eivør has going on. The bleakness and frostiness at the core seems to invoke a natural spirituality, which is hardly a clean fit to pick up a synthwave shape like on Tann tú saknar.
Hinumegin and Eon fare a lot better, decommissioning some of the more disruptive elements and showing the wonders at Tungl’s core. They’re still largely polished, but the former allowing its multi-tracked vocals to overflow and the latter with elegant strings and pianos are good indicators of what’s here. There are just too many restrictions and inconsistencies to get fully invested, though. The production isn’t all destrimental; the big bubbles of bass on Spøkilsir are good, and the uncomfortable scratching and wriggling within Fangað are a tangible creative stretch that pay off. But then there’s the gated feel and pacing of so much of this, and you’re put off from exploring anything deeper.
It’s not a good outcome when, despite everything that couldpoint to a cool, immersive listen, it’s almost always walled off from its full potential, and rather severely, at that. Tungl winds up a bit of a dud as a result, without much of the intrigue or replay value it’s clearly prescribed for itself. There was a folkier side to Eivør once upon a time, and letting that naturally darken and petrify would’ve made for an excellent result. Instead, it’s been artificially stiffened, bricked out and left at that.
For fans of: AURORA, Kalandra, Elinborg
‘Tungl’ by Eivør is released on 16th October on Nuclear Blast Records.
fish narc
Uncle
No, this isn’t some leftover from 2020 that we’re only just getting to; an emo-rapper is actually making a fresh rock pivot. At least there’s some backing behind this, as fish narc originates from the venerated GothBoiClique, who tend to be better on average. (That’s heavily weighted by Wicca Phase Springs Eternal and the magnitude of the late Lil Peep, but still.) Plus, last year’s album Frog Song laid down some foundations for this, as opposed to a typical kneejerk shift.
That all manifests a bit more hope for Uncle, which is the right amount, when you get into it. This is an incredibly simple album, leaning towards ‘90s power-pop with sharpness, a miniscule scale, and not an ounce of fat on it. Even fish narc’s voice is a utilitarian instrument, approachable in timbre and melodic potential but unwilling to be much more. On paper, that could be…well, a bit shite, honestly. But d’you know what? When Much Less Me and Emma hit their tiny, little stride with the most pleasant, unpretentious pop compositions known to man, it’s nice. There’s just something about this style of indie-rock—unvarnished and ramshackle without being too pleased with itself—that fish narc hits a solid stride with.
The caveat to all of that is how Uncle is not some bellwether of indie excellence. This thing rustles out a ditty, is catchy enough for the exact length of time that it’s around, and then vanishes from memory altogether. Longevity is not the strong suit of fish narc, though the inability to crack a half-hour with Uncle suggests he’s aware. While it’s here, though, it’s not objectionable. It’s warm and good-natured in feel, particularly in its acoustic-driven moments, and credit to fish narc for efficiency (even if the three interludes, a few seconds apiece, are rather unnecessary). Best still, when the emo-rap-to-rock pipeline is still mostly represented by lousy pop-punk, something even a bit good is very worthwhile.
For fans of: The Lemonheads, Gin Blossoms, MJ Lenderman
‘Uncle’ by fish narc is released on 16th October on K Records.
FELDSPAR
Soft Side
On Soft Side, FELDSPAR sound like the cartoon character versions of themselves. That’s not a criticism; it’s simply the best way to articulate the suite of expressive, ebullient voices in their bag. On the first few seconds of opener Heart Is A Ghetto alone, there’s both sweetened female indie-punk and brash male hardcore; on Slow Down, that becomes an Arnold Schwarzenegger impression, for some reason. It’s all in good fun, though, and as a means of broaching that by cutting the cord of ‘normal’ hardcore, Soft Side really is successful.
The company that FELDSPAR keep makes it make a lot of sense. Behind the scenes are alumni of Four Year Strong and Drug Church, plus team members behind Drain, The Bronx and One Step Closer. Throw in cited influences from Koyo and Militarie Gun, and the completeness of this ‘hardcore-but-not-really-but-still-in-that-space’ package speaks for itself. And even then, Soft Side plays so heavily into pop-rock and 2000s emo that it continues to feel like its own thing. The melodies are just that much brighter and tighter on Family Man and Unsober, or running with an element of broody guitar on Sweating On and Iron And Velcro. Hell, the title track has a few bars uncannily similar to All Time Low’s Forget About It, if you want to go that far.
In spirit, though, FELDSPAR are hardcore through and through. Theirs is the vibe of a loose yet unified group of creatives, where everyone is welcomed and celebrated. Soft Side, then, feels like a celebration of its own communal mood. Openness and honesty are encouraged; collaboration is celebrated. It’s predominantly why the album feels so alive and exuberant, with near-boundless appeal. The songs bang, that’s a given, but the heart within them is the supercharger here.
For fans of: Militarie Gun, Koyo, Candy Hearts
‘Soft Side’ by FELDSPAR is out now on Stage Dive Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
