by Niklas Göransson

When Reverorum ib Malacht began crafting Svag i döden, Emil Lundin was unaware of how profoundly death would shape their work. This series finale also sees the tradition of Roman Catholic Black Metal explore transcendence and cosmology.

 

KARL HIERONYMUS EMIL LUNDIN: After “…sju huvud?”, I thought, ‘Okay – we’ve just made the most charismatic and disorganised album of our career, and probably taken this weirdness approach as far as it goes.’ I asked myself, ‘What haven’t we done?’ It dawned on me that MALACHT had never released anything even halfway commercial-sounding. So, I decided to do just that. By then, I’d run out of pre-recorded drum tracks.

By 2017, after many years without any percussion work, Emil had fallen out of practice. Concluding that they’d have to bring in an external drummer, he began the search by consulting his old DÖDFÖDD bandmate, Philip.

EMIL: Philip told me, ‘You should contact Janne Jaloma – he’s just about to join DARK FUNERAL.’ I called him, introduced myself, and explained the MALACHT concept and what we do. Basically, I laid out our modus operandi. Janne said, ‘This is so bizarre that I must participate.’ In late 2017, we started tracking drums for what became “Svag i döden”. It wasn’t initially meant to have that title; this was a later development.

This new direction is nowhere near as sinister-sounding as many of Emil’s contemporary works. Rather, it’s considerably more majestic, emanating divine opulence. One could see this as a natural continuation of the ‘Roman Catholic Black Metal’ found in “What Do You Think of the Old God…”, “URKAOS”, and the CD version of “De Mysteriis Dom Christi”.

EMIL: Well, it’s fundamentally the same ensemble, so you’re probably right. I focused on composing the music in a straightforward manner. It’s performed tight, has professional-level drumming and… well, we have riffs again. The result is quite accessible, as evidenced by the number of streams. It’s relatable and sounds more like conventional music – more like black metal.

 

Choirs in black metal are commonplace, but Emil’s implementation – especially as a contrast to the coarser elements – is masterful. The transition about three minutes into the opening track, “De Messia Eiusque Precursore”, is pure class. Notably, the chants are also closely interlocked with the guitar melodies.

EMIL: Listen to the guitars, and you’ll hear what Johan Gustafsson refers to as ‘Borlänge riffs.’ One of them, about five minutes into the opener, is the longest riff I’ve ever written; it keeps changing and morphing along with the choirs. Though I’m mainly playing E and F, there are various notes and harmonies layered on top. The way several guitars transpose in reverse order creates an effect where the riff never stops. It endlessly wanders, giving the impression that it’s more intricately crafted than it actually is.

While there are samples used throughout the album, most of the choirs and operatic vocals were recorded in-house.

EMIL: One can barely tell the choirs apart from the guitars. That’s because I reverted to the same distortion as in the old DÖDFÖDD days and played the same guitar I used between 1999 to 2005, an Ibanez RG570 – the original Japanese model, not the reissue. Pay attention to the bass, and you’ll notice that it only plays two notes. But then there are octaves and such on top, making it sound massive. All this presented some unique challenges; given the overwhelming number of elements involved, the project proved beyond my computer’s capability.

In the context of audio production software, a ‘project’ refers to a working file where the music is assembled, edited, mixed, and processed. When saved, it preserves all components, amendments, and individual settings.

EMIL: I had to split everything into four separate projects: one dedicated to all the different vocal lines, one each for drums and guitars, and a fourth master file to merge everything in. So, making minor adjustments to a riff entailed opening the guitar project, editing the track, mixing down a fresh version, and then incorporating it back into the primary project. Just absolute insanity.

Music production can be resource-intensive, especially when dealing with multiple tracks, effects, and high-quality audio. If a computer’s processor, memory, or other components are insufficient, the software might lag, freeze, or fail to perform tasks properly.

EMIL: Eventually, I resorted to individually rendering the tracks in each sub-project – but even then, it was still too much for my computer. One of the songs had sixty tracks for the vocals alone. As you can imagine, this process became excruciatingly frustrating. But I refused to give up because I had such a clear image of what I wanted it to sound like.

Was this the production you had originally envisioned for OFERMOD?

EMIL: Yes. In 2016, as OFERMOD were preparing to record “Sol Nox”, I wrote to Mika (Belfagor) that I’d dreamt of hearing their new album. The mix sounded great in my dream; however, the result came out differently. In my opinion, OFERMOD should focus more on reverb and bass – but that’s just me. There’s a reason why I don’t mix other people’s material.

Emil tracked the bass guitar during the summer of 2018, thus completing the actual music. All that remained were the lead vocals.

EMIL: I made multiple attempts to lay down the vocals, yet I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to approach them. For years I struggled with this, tormented by that damn album because it’s so bloody complex. Simultaneously, I worked on a number of other records; it takes me an aeon to put the finishing touches on anything.

 

Speaking of which, in October 2019 – eighteen years after the band was founded – Italian label Annapurna released DÖDFÖDD’s debut album, “Stigma”. As is so often the case with Emil’s output, it had been shelved for several years at that point.

EMIL: I think Johan and I recorded “Stigma” around 2014, during the creation of “De Mysteriis Dom Christi”. We also worked on some SEKTEN tracks at the same time. Johan often points out that we managed to record with three different bands during those sessions. Back then, I still considered it futile to pursue dark sounds using guitars. I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be remarkable to create a black metal album entirely without guitars?’

Was this borne out of genuine musical curiosity, or more the case of you being antagonistic and contrarian?

EMIL: Part of it was a stab at all the old DÖDFÖDD fans who went, ‘A full-length album; fantastic news! Bring on the evocative riffs and stirring melodies of the demo days.’ So, I thought, ‘Just you wait. I’ll make a DÖDFÖDD record that’s better than all previous material – but far darker. And it won’t have a single guitar note.’ So, that’s what we did. In hindsight, I suppose it might’ve been a bit antagonistic.

As a result, “Stigma” completely lacks guitars. Instead, Emil used a Serge synthesiser system that he built himself.

EMIL: The Serge truly is the world’s most evil-sounding instrument. Audiophiles typically favour polystyrene or mica capacitors in the signal pathways. Conversely, ceramic capacitors are usually advised against because they’re thought to produce inferior sound. So, naturally, I decided to build my Serge with ceramic capacitors exclusively. They’re high-quality and durable, but they impart a very distinctive sound.

Capacitors are electronic components that can affect the synthesiser’s timbre and clarity. Polystyrene and mica capacitors tend to provide a cleaner, more detailed output, whereas their ceramic counterparts produce a harsher, sharper, and somewhat imprecise sound.

EMIL: Initially, the production was too chaotic in stereo width; it sounded like a fever delirium. We decided to let it germinate for a few years. After pondering the matter, I decided that – in order to achieve an authentic 90s sound – it had to be mastered on analogue equipment. So, I brought home a VHS player from Dalarna to run the album through.

Was this something you came up with yourself?

EMIL: No, it’s an old trick. The VHS is almost like a poor man’s ADAT; it introduces a unique non-linear distortion, especially noticeable in the high frequencies. Furthermore, it doesn’t behave like regular cassette saturation. I was amazed by the result, and that’s when I knew we could release it. As a sidenote, “Stigma” became the last title ever issued by Annapurna – I don’t quite know what to make of that.

The cover art, which depicts the letter ‘D’ juxtaposed with the Grim Reaper, was taken from a new DÖDFÖDD logo that Emil worked on before dissolving the project in 2005. All song titles – “Märg”, “Blod”, “Skin”, “Klor”, “Mask” and “Dygd” – have four characters, but no lyrics are disclosed.

EMIL: I’m not sure whether I removed it, but “Stigma” might contain my first and only lyric in classical Arabic. People usually avoid Arabic in metal to evade fatwas and death threats. Anyway, the album addresses the theme of stigma in a sort of pseudo-therapeutic sense, focusing more on the social aspects associated with the word than physical wounds. When Jesus rose from the grave, he still had scars. I, too, carry many scars – and not just on my skin.

Over the past three decades, I’ve seen numerous collections of self-inflicted scars. Like most from my generation of Swedish black metal, I have a few myself. But outside the Västerås scene – home of OFDRYKKJA – I don’t recall seeing anything quite like Emil’s ravaged flesh.

 

EMIL: Meanwhile, that incomplete epic album lingered in my mind like some sort of bothersome afterthought. I kept returning to the project, like, ‘This is damn fine material; I really should finish it.’ By then, the title had been heard: ‘Svag i döden’. It came from one of those voices in my head.

The repeated mentions of Emil hearing voices in conjunction with his creative process should not be misconstrued as some kind of schizophrenic episode. Instead, Emil describes these occurrences as spontaneous, audial phrases and sentences spoken to him from nowhere, often guiding his artistic decisions.

EMIL: ‘Svag i döden’: ‘weak in death.’ Initially, I thought it was horrid – but since that’s what I heard, that’s what the title had to be. It captures everything dreadful about… I wouldn’t say the fear of dying, but rather this utter powerlessness one feels in the face of death and the afterlife. All our actions are over, and we can no longer accomplish anything. We stand empty-handed, clutching only our conscience and our relation to God. At the time, I didn’t know that Pater Josef would be dead within a year.

Following a bout with cancer, Pater Josef Höfner – the Jesuit priest who baptised Emil and then served as his mentor – passed away on Ash Wednesday in March 2019.

EMIL: My mother received her terminal diagnosis pretty much at the same time. The cancer had returned, and nothing more could be done. Now, I don’t want to make this out to be something occult, but the album came to be about death – which the title encapsulates splendidly. Especially since my mother was quite radical in her own way. She told us, ‘Don’t bother with a service; they’re just for show. People attend, cry, and leave flowers. Better they come and visit me now instead, for what joy will flowers bring when I’m dead? There shall be no funeral.’

Emil’s mother passed away in the summer of 2020. Five days later, he recorded the vocals for “Svag i döden”.

EMIL: It wasn’t until she died that I realised, ‘Of course; this is why I couldn’t do it earlier.’ All the lyrics are obituaries. There was a sense of redemption because the DÖDFÖDD demo lyrics were mostly necrologies that I perverted. With “Svag i döden”, I got to sing obituaries again – but sincerely mean them. Admittedly, it was extremely hard to praise God for the death of my mother. Nonetheless, I’m convinced that it is for the good of our souls, in some way.

The bulk of the fourth track, “Canticum Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus”, is taken from Gloria in Excelsis Deo, Latin for ‘Glory to God in the Highest’ – a text from the traditional Christian liturgy. Towards the end of the song, there’s a spoken-word passage reciting Swedish funerary poetry.

EMIL: The main gist is along the lines of, ‘Even though we don’t understand, we must be grateful – hallelujah.’ And then I conclude with something like ‘Rest in peace, dear mother.’ That’s where you can hear me break down in tears. At first, I wanted to remove it, but Johan forbade me. ‘No, no, no; it’s super powerful and must stay.’ With my vocals done, the album was complete. Mastering the whole thing was another nightmare, but I think it turned out alright.

“Svag i döden” was released on vinyl by The Ajna Offensive on August 6, 2021.

 

The same day, Rubeus Obex issued another REVERORUM IB MALACHT album: “Not Here”. This is the only MALACHT full-length with a drum machine. The music is definitely black metal, but the digital percussion doesn’t even try to emulate a human drummer. The closest comparison is MYSTICUM.

EMIL: When I first heard MYSTICUM, I thought, ‘Wow, this is amazing. MYSTICUM is my favourite band.’ While I haven’t been a frequent listener over the years, every decade or so, I go through a manic phase where I feel compelled to clone MYSTICUM. As early as 2007, I purchased a TR-707 – the digital drum machine they used on their demos – specifically for such a recording.

Following MYSTICUM’s 1996 debut, “In the Streams of Inferno”, and a European tour with MARDUK, they announced the upcoming “Planet Satan”. But the band faded into obscurity and remained there for many years. Their much-anticipated second album didn’t surface until 2014.

EMIL: Johan Gustafsson was ecstatic, but I felt gravely disappointed. I thought “Planet Satan” missed the mark completely. For starters, the drums are too quantised. They’re too data-tight in a way that doesn’t benefit them. The charm of older drum machines lies in their slower CPUs and clocks, resulting in less-than-perfect timing. This produces an inhuman sound, yet it’s not as rigid as modern computer drums. So, I vowed to one day make the follow-up album that MYSTICUM should’ve released back in the 90s.

In 2018, that time had come. To capture the right sound, Emil purchased every model of digital drum machine that Boss produced up to 1996, as well as the best porta studio available during the same era.

EMIL: Not even the members themselves can recall what equipment MYSTICUM used, but I read in an old interview that they employed a Roland drum machine for “In the Streams of Inferno”. If so, that’s Boss – Roland never made any, but Boss is their company. Then 4Sound went bankrupt, so I was able to acquire a number of amps.

4sound was a Swedish retail chain specialised in music hardware. When they filed for bankruptcy in 2019, the stores sold off their remaining inventory at big discounts.

EMIL: I used two of those amps for “Not Here”, so I could have it in stereo. That’s not how one usually tracks guitars, yet I thought it sounded good. So, long story short: we created the album that “Planet Satan” should’ve been. But it’s not a straight-up MYSTICUM rip-off – one of the songs was inspired by “…Old God…”. Also, in a purely musical way, it’s quite influenced by this German band called EMPALIGON.

Bavarian black metal act EMPALIGON released a demo called “Into Blackening Chaos” in 1998 and then their debut – “Black Dominated Annihilation” – the following year. I hadn’t heard of either until Emil brought them up.

EMIL: Besides the ABRUPTUM demos, EMPALIGON is the only band we can agree about in MALACHT. Karl Axel Ignatius Mikael Mårtensson has sold or given his vinyl to Sören (Sir N), who also likes EMPALIGON. Everyone loves EMPALIGON! I actually heard the album in full only recently, on New Year’s Eve. I had no choice because I was in the process of convincing Johan that they are the world’s best band. I let slip that I’d never heard the entire album, which he felt weakened my case.

You’re going to have to explain this one?

EMIL: There was simply no need to; I had already acknowledged its magnificence. That much is obvious just by skimming through the songs – which consist of non-stop blast beats exclusively. Honestly, the music is pretty crap, but it’s so uncompromising and relentless that one must like it. So, in summary, ABRUPTUM and EMPALIGON reign supreme. Not that I ever listen to them, of course. But I know it in my heart. And that’s the story behind “Not Here”.

 

What about the title?

EMIL: As soon as I began working on the music, the title was made clear to me. Once again, it came from one of those voices in my head: ‘Not here…’ I was perplexed at first, but Johan from Boden said, ‘This is phenomenal!’ As a PhD and associate professor in Philosophy of Religion, he’s able to solve most such conundrums. ‘Obviously, it’s a reference to God’s transcendence.’

The booklet outlines the “Not Here” concept and includes a theological reflection on the nature of the divine, exploring the paradox of God’s transcendence and immanence.

In this context, ‘transcendence’ refers to God’s independence from the physical realm, while ‘immanence’ means God’s presence within the universe and proximity to His creation. Whilst He is immanent within the cosmos, the fullness of life and existence promised by God isn’t found in our present world – ‘not here’ – but rather in an eternal, transcendent reality.

EMIL: For the album cover, I made a linoleum cut depicting a green twig, ‘Virga’ in Latin. It’s a medieval wordplay; a similar-sounding word, ‘Virgo’, means ‘virgin’, alluding to Mary. The three blossoms symbolise the Holy Trinity – God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The leaves each represent one of Christ’s disciples, and the solitary fallen leaf with a forked tongue is Judas Iscariot. I’m not usually one for symbolism, but this is the type of monastic metaphor I find appealing.

 

At the dawn of Easter Sunday 2022, REVERORUM IB MALACHT released a digital album in commemoration of Christ’s resurrection: “Vacuum. The Mystery of Faith. We Proclaim Your Death Oh Lord, and Profess Your Resurrection, Until You Come Again. Förlåtelse och levitation.”

EMIL: “Vacuum…” was what one might call a stealth release: we published it on Bandcamp at the start of Lent. And then on Easter Sunday – precisely at dawn, at 05:28 local Uppsala time, if I remember correctly – it appeared on Spotify.