Ulver, Norways most evolutionary band, are celebrating their 25th anniversary in 2020. They began as an extreme black metal project but have since followed a labyrinthian, experimental path through various genres, including electronic, industrial, and ambient musics. Theyve composed soundtracks and created art installations, and cut an unclassifiable album with Sunn O))). 2017s The Assassination of Julius Caesar was a doom dance offering that deliberately channeled early influences such as Depeche Mode and New Order, imprinted with Ulvers dark, romantic musical signature.
Flowers of Evils release coincides with Ulvers anniversary and the simultaneous publication of Wolves Evolve: The Ulver Story, a fat autobiography with interviews and photographs. Though frontman Kristoffer Garm Rygg is the only original member, longtime keyboardist/programmer Tore Ylwizaker, lyricist Jorn H. Svaeren, and arranger Ole Alexander Halstensgard all remain. Filling out the lineup are guitarist Stian Westerhus, drummer Ivar Thormodsaeter, and percussionist/engineer Anders Moller. This outing sticks close to the sonic blueprint of the 2017 album; it too was co-produced by Michael Rendall (The Orb) and Youth (Martin Glover). Ulver double down on the apocalyptic dance rock of the records predecessor, though this is more cinematic and propulsive. After an ambient electronic intro, opener One Last Dance (with guest guitarist Christian Fennesz) sounds like the industrial electronics of Human League before they became pop stars. Its lyrics are drenched in grief yet offer Ulvers manifesto: We are wolves/This is our song/Were ready to go.... The single Russian Doll is a hooky yet melancholy pulsating doom disco lament; it equals transcendent first single Nostalgia as one of the most fractious yet danceable tunes the band have ever recorded. Dirty over-amped guitars add an anthemic quality to Machine Guns and Peacock Feathers as Garm depicts the warring self-destructive impulses that govern the 21st century. The jarring industrial dance music in Hour of the Wolf is illuminating for its chilling clarity; an elegiac acoustic piano adorns the drum and synth loops with warmth and emotion. Apocalypse 1993 juxtaposes doom dance and electro in a morality tale about David Koresh and the Branch Davidian cult; the band actually sound like a drugged Talk Talk circa Its My Life. Little Boy weds darkwave to post-punk, and electro-pop to skeletal Detroit techno, all the while relating the tragedies of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. After the mutant post-punk disco of the single Nostalgia, the set closes with a pristine yet emotionally devastating A Thousand Cuts. Throbbing bass lines ride alongside Ryggs smooth, silky vocal delivery as a distant violin sings to the drums and synths. The songs narrative, while open to interpretation, exists inside the polar opposites sorrowful and harrowing. The music on Flowers of Evil traverses with jarring effectiveness both past and future. Its songs explore grief, hysteria, madness, vulnerability, and romance as inseparable and indelible aspects of the human spirt, resulting in a masterwork of the familiar and the disorienting. ~ Thom Jurek
Rovi