If the path onward no longer concerns itself with the consequences of terrestrial consciousness then let it lead us inwards, a sojourn of self-invaginating and horrified hallways away from the miseries of all daimonian torment. Halden, Norway-based black metal project Mork threaten to dispirit the incorporeal haunter at the shore with their own siren song of introverted existential dreariness as they realize this nigh autobiographically set sixth full-length album. The source of suffering, the nag of tribulation awry and the conclusions it makes aren’t clear in retrospect yet the depths to which the artist plumbs their innards-felt inspiration finds ‘Dypet‘ one of the more entertaining and accessible works from the fellow to date.

Mork technically formed back in 2004 as a black metal side project from musician Thomas Eriksen, who’d tasked himself with demoing songs until a reasonable pool had gathered in the form of the ‘Rota til ondskap‘ demo which would release in 2007 as a sort of quasi-compilation of his work thus far. It was raw, rough as expected for a late 2000’s black metal CD-r and certainly not for public consumption just yet. It is still attainable in the form of vinyl documentation per Peaceville and earlier on Eriksen re-recorded and issued a few songs from those days for a number of interstitial releases. It doesn’t appear that the project necessarily took off at that point though by 2011 he’d begun working with a Polish drummer on the path towards an EP, eventually handling the entire project himself for what would become a debut full-length (‘Isebakke‘, 2013). This’d been the project at its most endearingly independent, still self-produced yet far more ambitious in terms of guitar arrangements and traditional black metal songcraft than any of the earlier demo recordings. The first label to hear this quite clear potential would be small Quebec-based label HSP Productions who would proceed to reissue that debut as well as the “too much of a good thing” second album ‘Den Vandrende Skygge‘ (2016) which’d been enough to get the band noticed and milling around.

The early sound Mork had lead with was certainly traditional early Norwegian black metal in sound and aesthetic but not entirely limited to such obvious influences, including a (very good) Onslaught cover on that first album should’ve probably lent the project more notice in hindsight, but we do find the compositions sticking to a simple deathly standard for the first few releases. This’d made their sound somewhat of a strange anomaly to nail down into place as they’d signed to Peaceville in 2017 and soon released their big first impression upon the general public (‘Eremittens Dal‘, 2017) which found them coming across as a band particularly thrilled to be on the same label as Darkthrone, leaning into some of the more brash grooves and stamping-paced pieces they’d written to date. I’d preferred its follow-up (‘Det Svarte Juv‘, 2019) for the sake of it trading referential pointedness for variety but needless to say I’ve not been impressed by this project over the years beyond a few select releases. The feeling and the sound is there but the songcraft hadn’t really found its breakthrough with any of their steps taken outside of tradition over the course of five full-lengths with ‘Katedralen‘ (2021) beginning to feel like an out of body experience alongside a few illustrious guests. This’d made it all the more surprising that I’d enjoyed the Taake-esque finesse of ‘Dypet‘ from the first listen. Had they finally written a song better than “Dype Røtter” ten years later?

Of course I am exaggerating to some degree but only for the sake of acknowledging ‘Dypet‘ as a decidedly focused, slightly more personal work from the artist that seems to have focused more on the melodic and experiential value of each song and not just the broader strokes of ambition that’d impressed the general public on Mork‘s past couple of releases. Even after several albums worth of evolution in the artist’s hands the miasma of black metal yet prefers a simpler rhythmic format for effect, eh, at least you’d think so ’til Mork finds an accessible set of workarounds herein which do not necessitate blunt and plain ‘old school’ rhythms exclusively. This shouldn’t necessitate a devolutionary rebuilding process at all, though, since this record builds a volume of melodic guitar hooks within the first few pieces on Side A with “Forfort av Kulden” impressing with its sentimental moderne stadium rock rhythms up front and “Svik” effortlessly flitting from its opening totentanz straight into its folkish run-on hook and its many channels in and out of phrase (see also: Fluisteraars) throughout the song. For the ultra-elite black metal fan this will simply read as melodic metal beyond the black metal vocals though I’d found this a welcome bout of sophistication for an artist who’d been chipping away at their own personal take on the sub-genre for nearly two decades at this point. This all lines up pretty well to start and so far there is no sign of yet olde black n’ roll godhede in sight (at least one riff on “Avskum” counts, though.)

From the first listen I was sure the moodiness of this record intended to be depressive if not necessarily nihilistic in tone and upon closer look it’d seem there is some intended concept here in terms of lyrics which reflect life experiences, hardships and “inner demons” with a sort of Norse quasi-daimonian force lingering in implied Lovecraftian haunt over the narrative. As I’d cycled through the album numerous times over the course of a few weeks I’d found myself more prone to envision the cold, storm-swept coastal misery which the David Thiérrée penned artwork presents for us at his usual finest standard and in this process it’d eventually clicked with me as a combined representation of the protagonist and their antagonistic abrasion at once, eventually taking on a more dramatic, tragedian tonality.

The middle portion of ‘Dypet‘ is neither here nor there for my taste, a couple of fairly eventful but average pieces with the ex-Djevel vocalist Hjelvik feature on “Hoye Murer” managing some jumbled, unexpected vocal patternation alongside a return to the melodic guitar work found earlier on the running order. Of course all is not lost just yet with lead single “Bortgang” continuing the sombre, introspective thread of the record towards its logical peak. My favorite extra touch, which perhaps shouldn’t be overstated, is the subtle use of analog synthesizer on “Tilbake Til Opprinnelsen” which finalizes the larger thought presented by the record in a robust fashion, a piece worthy of its album closer status. Were there a couple more infectiously writ pieces on ‘Dypet‘ in place of the more middling moments (“Et Kall Fra Dypet”, “Avskum”) I’d have managed to hold more steadily onto the initial hype of introduction though I’d ultimately found this a very good record but not one that’d stuck on me to any serious degree just yet. The songs that do hit are definitely worth returning to nonetheless and in this sense Mork continue to sit comfortably above average for my own taste. A moderately high recommendation.

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