House of Mythology – 31st December 2025
Christopher Nosnibor
Ulver’s fourteenth studio album is described as ‘a journey into undiscovered lands’, and promises ‘more traditional song and production structures’; than the preceding three, as well as marking ‘a new chapter in the revered Oslo band’s history’. By this, they explain that “With Neverland we embraced a more ‘punk’ spirit – more dreaming, less discipline – freer, quite simply”. For a band which started out black metal before shifting towards electronica and ambience, this does seem like another substantial shift, at least on paper. This is encouraging, as some recent releases – not least of all The Assassination of Julius Caesar had seen them push quite some way into pop territory, and not in a good way.
It begins promisingly enough: ‘Fear in a Handful of Dust’ presents a collage of tweets and chirrups, jungle birdsong and a suitably bombastic spoken word narrative, which sounds quintessentially sampled, reverberate across atmospheric ripples and washes of synth, paving the way for some melancholic neoclassical piano work on ‘Elephant Trunk’. Glitches and static haze cut across this as atmospheric electronics build, and before long we find ourselves in expansive electronic post-rock territory, the likes of which sits neatly alongside the likes of Nordic Giants.
The transitions are subtle, and the changes creep up on the listener in such a way that one finds oneself nearly halfway through the fourth track, ‘People of the Hills’ to the nagging awareness that this is some quite upbeat trancey dance tune which doesn’t feel in any sense out of place. I mean, it’s not fucking Pendulum and there’s a meaty bass groove and some rather pleasant progressive stylings going on, but it’s a bit pop, a bit commercial-sounding, too.
‘They’re Coming The Birds’ blurs the lines still further: the samples are warped, the synths cinematic, the bass in places a deep, dark post-punk groove, but the beats veer from gothy electronica to more club-orientated fodder. In contrast, there are some magnificent widescreen ambient moments to be found, as on ‘Horses of the Plough’ and ‘the evocative and stirring ‘Quivers in the Marrow’, while ‘Pandora’s Box’ is an exploratory noise work which delves deep into dissonance amidst a swirling quasar of sound where Krautrock meets late 70s early 80s industrial. But then ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ returned to some pretty naff ‘90s new age dance tropes and it feel corny and cheap. There are dudes all over tinkering away with expensive gadgetry in the back bedroom and trying it out to twenty people at EMOM (Electronic Music Open Mic) nights up and down the UK and around the globe creating stuff so, so much better than this. And perhaps this is the frustration with not only Neverland, but Ulver’s work more broadly: some of their compositions are great, absolutely outstanding, rich in atmosphere, big on texture, the concept and execution so perfectly aligned, but a similar number are just lazy and frankly shite.
Neverland is definitely an improvement on The Assassination of Julius Caesar and the Sic Transit Gloria Mundi EP – which deterred me from bothering with the next few releases – but it’s still very hit and miss, with the emphasis on very here. Experimental and varied are one thing, but this is simply wildly uneven and unfocused.
In their summation, they proffer questions as to what Neverland actually is: ‘Pop music from in-between worlds? A sonic hallucination? Or better: a collage of dreams. It’s up to you’. It’s generous of them to leave it open like that. A collage of my dreams would be a lot scarier and more intense, and would consist of buildings collapsing, ruins, cars crashing, being late, being lost, being chased. Neverland certainly isn’t that. It seems that in pushing the question to us, they’re trying to avoid the question of their own identity crisis. Come on then, Ulver, what is it? What is it supposed to be, and is what you’ve given us what you intended when you set out? Is it?And is it punk? Really? Really?
AA
Aural Aggravation 