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LP
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MIA 055LP
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Erik K Skodvin's alter persona Svarte Greiner re-appears with another chapter in his "zen music for disturbed souls" series, channeling both spiritual distress and meditation in a live recording from the bunkers of a bombed-out brewery. The first piece, entitled "Devolving Trust" was recorded live in the bunkers of Schneider Brewery in Berlin, 2018. Erik explains: "I was invited to use the vast old cellars located underneath the site for a performance/installation. Wet and hollow with a dark past and long reverb, it was a perfect location to channel a cello and electro-acoustic improvisation in the spirit of my two long-form, meditative albums Black Tie and Moss Garden. As a 30-minute piece, it was left looping in the room for hours after it ended as an echo of the performance, allowing people to walk around and soak up the sounds and empty hallways alone. I am usually not into the idea of releasing a live recording, as there are so many factors that are lost in the translation from being present and listening to it in another space. The eyes, ears and body can often see beyond small mistakes once a live performance unfolds in front of you. The details are usually lost in translating it to a pure recording. I made an exception for this as I feel it translates the live feeling in a way I like. Very personal and full of small mistakes it creates its own life. Also, as an improvisation, I am very happy with it, and have been listening to it on and off since a few years. With this in mind I decided I want it to be another document in my ongoing series of longform, atmospheric pieces following the aforementioned two albums. The second track simply called 'Devolve' is mostly constructed out of fragments from the performance as a sort of minimal, reversed echo, further tunneling into the unknown. These pieces have given me calmness, reflection, and escape from the madness escalating outside of our doors. I hope it can do the same for you." Silver spot color artwork; includes download code; edition of 300.
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MIA 055CD
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Erik K Skodvin's alter persona Svarte Greiner re-appears with another chapter in his "zen music for disturbed souls" series, channeling both spiritual distress and meditation in a live recording from the bunkers of a bombed-out brewery. The first piece, entitled "Devolving Trust" was recorded live in the bunkers of Schneider Brewery in Berlin, 2018. Erik explains: "I was invited to use the vast old cellars located underneath the site for a performance/installation. Wet and hollow with a dark past and long reverb, it was a perfect location to channel a cello and electro-acoustic improvisation in the spirit of my two long-form, meditative albums Black Tie and Moss Garden. As a 30-minute piece, it was left looping in the room for hours after it ended as an echo of the performance, allowing people to walk around and soak up the sounds and empty hallways alone. I am usually not into the idea of releasing a live recording, as there are so many factors that are lost in the translation from being present and listening to it in another space. The eyes, ears and body can often see beyond small mistakes once a live performance unfolds in front of you. The details are usually lost in translating it to a pure recording. I made an exception for this as I feel it translates the live feeling in a way I like. Very personal and full of small mistakes it creates its own life. Also, as an improvisation, I am very happy with it, and have been listening to it on and off since a few years. With this in mind I decided I want it to be another document in my ongoing series of longform, atmospheric pieces following the aforementioned two albums. The second track simply called 'Devolve' is mostly constructed out of fragments from the performance as a sort of minimal, reversed echo, further tunneling into the unknown. These pieces have given me calmness, reflection, and escape from the madness escalating outside of our doors. I hope it can do the same for you." Digipak; edition of 300.
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MIA 040LP
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Apart is a mini-album containing a set of cello improvisations, conceived during days of solemn recording in the basement of an unused industrial space outside of Bern, Switzerland. Svarte Greiner on the recording process. "In autumn 2015 I was invited to perform and stay for a week 'residency' at the -- as it turned out one off -- Rebirth Festival in Bern, Switzerland. I was staying at an abandoned farm in the hills, half an hour outside the city with the group of young people responsible for the festival. My room was equipped with a mattress on the floor, some strange paintings, and a lot of spider webs. The view outside was straight into an open field with mostly hills, a forest, and some tents, all of which would be covered in fog every morning. By night I was driven to the venue -- an unused industrial building slightly outside of central Bern. Three of the nights there I was given a cello, a sleeping bag, full access to the building, and especially its big open basement space for recording. . . . Most of the rooms were made into some kind of surreal art object, often recalling a sort of Mad Max post-apocalyptic feel. I realised that getting a clean recording here would be nearly impossible, as the building had a tendency for strange noises, clicks and sounds, seemingly turning itself on and off at random. It was also located right next to the train tracks, which meant I had about ten minutes of quiet in which to record in between the thunder of passing trains -- a lot of recordings were ruined. However, all these off elements somehow had their charm. Having such a big empty space for myself, filled with strange installations and sculptures set up for the festival, was both inspiring and eerie. When not playing and just sitting still, it was unnerving. The lights were on motion detectors and would automatically turn off after five minutes without movement, leaving me alone with nothing but a small lamp and my thoughts. Sometimes I wished my imagination would be less vivid, as I´d have an easier time not imagining all kinds of obscure happenings in the shadows. Then again, this is also something that intrigued me so much that I felt no choice but to investigate closer. . . ." Includes download code.
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LP
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MIA 039LP
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Miasmah present a reissue of Svarte Greiner's debut album Knive, originally released on Type in 2006. 11 years since its inception, the surreal and darkly romantic Knive still sounds like a mystery and something that's hard to pin down. Svarte Greiner's debut album feels like a trip into the forest at midnight, with all the sounds and impressions that comes with it. Spiritual, horrific, and fragile in essence, its melancholic core is hard to shake off, and feels as present today as it did back then. While starting off the sub-genre of "acoustic doom" back in 2006, it's difficult to say what else to name it now, with its inspiration and elements from countless genres. The record flows through the dissonant cellos and washed-out vocals of "Ocean Out Of Wood" past the introverted church organs of "The Black Dress", distorted guitars and wooden beats of "The Dining Table" to the operatic finale of "Final Sleep". Everything is scattered, with field recordings from crows, branches, walking, sleeping, rain, wind, and who-knows-what. Knive stands on many feet, wherever they may be. Erik K Skodvin's path as Svarte Greiner have since been dwelling more and more into this world, picking each element apart to focus on them, stretching them out or cutting them down, looping, experimenting, and flooding with reverb -- trying to make time stop and night fall. But for now a re-visit to where it all started seems appropriate. Includes download code; Full-tone color artwork; Edition of 500.
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CD
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MIA 037CD
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Erik K Skodvin returns with a focused album under his Svarte Greiner moniker, releasing two twenty-minute cinematic compositions, continuing where he left off with Black Tie (MIA 023CD, 2013). "The Marble" patiently sets the tone with a slow moving wall of strings underlaid by a warped bass line. A feeling of weightlessness covers the ground while empty space surrounds the listener in an embracing yet uneasy way. It's a gloomy territory with an unexpected extent of grace to encounter. Time gradually illuminates several stages of light and dark before revealing a desolate wasteland filled with electric organisms. "Garden" strikes heavily with rattling string hits and low bass waves quivering through your skull, transforming the scenery into a fallow that is staring right back at you. This could easily be the soundtrack to a nightmarish sleeplessness if it wasn't for carefully scattered comfort zones to be found in unknown territory - what appears to be violent at first soon reveals sheer reflective beauty. However, it is patience and repeated listening that liberate the aspired altered state of consciousness. Originally composed for Marit Følstad's installation art, Moss Garden more than ever consolidates Erik Skodvin's individual idea of soundscape. His approach can be interpreted as an embodiment of the word "Terrific" amelioration: Developing from "Terrifying" over "Intense" to its modern understanding in a little more than two centuries, Svarte Greiner reenacts this metamorphosis within a single recording. CD version of Svarte Greiner's 2016 album, previously only available on vinyl (MIA 037LP); Comes in a digipak sleeve; Includes a download code; Edition of 400.
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MIA 037LP
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Erik K Skodvin returns with a focused album under his Svarte Greiner moniker, releasing two side-long cinematic compositions, continuing where he left off with Black Tie (MIA 023CD, 2013). "The Marble" patiently sets the tone with a slow moving wall of strings underlaid by a warped bass line. A feeling of weightlessness covers the ground while empty space surrounds the listener in an embracing yet uneasy way. It's a gloomy territory with an unexpected extent of grace to encounter. Time gradually illuminates several stages of light and dark before revealing a desolate wasteland filled with electric organisms. "Garden" strikes heavily with rattling string hits and low bass waves quivering through your skull, transforming the scenery into a fallow that is staring right back at you. This could easily be the soundtrack to a nightmarish sleeplessness if it wasn't for carefully scattered comfort zones to be found in unknown territory - What appears to be violent at first soon reveals sheer reflective beauty. However, it is patience and repeated listening that liberate the aspired altered state of consciousness. Originally composed for Marit Følstad's installation art, Moss Garden more than ever consolidates Erik Skodvin's individual idea of soundscape. His approach can be interpreted as an embodiment of the word "Terrific" amelioration: Developing from "Terrifying" over "Intense" to its modern understanding in a little more than two centuries, Svarte Greiner reenacts this metamorphosis within a single recording. Includes an insert and a download code. Edition of 700.
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CD
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MIA 023CD
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After two bone-chilling full-lengths for the Type Recordings imprint, Erik K. Skodvin has embarked on his first journey for his own Miasmah label with Black Tie. While originally conceived as a soundtrack to an installation by Norwegian artist Marit Følstad, Skodvin uses this as a starting point to craft his most unnerving long-form pieces to date. Split into two distinct movements, "Black Tie" and "White Noise," we are exposed to the yin and yang of Skodvin's patented acoustic doom, and all the gravitas that it might contain. "Black Tie" was the piece which ended up being used in the installation itself, and is the closest to Skodvin's established sound as it stops time around its creaking cello, plucked strings and whispering ambience. Subtle and slow, the track blooms into a skeletal cloud of radio static and distortion before sinking back down to earth on those familiar moaning strings. With "White Noise" however, Skodvin takes us on a different journey, allowing panoramic synthesizer drones to take control while Middle Eastern strings chime in the distance. Transcendent and disarming, Skodvin manages to connect the dots between Biosphere, Thomas Köner and of course Deaf Center and still emerge with something fresh and unexpected. More than simply an accompanying work to an installation, Black Tie is a crucial new chapter in the Svarte Greiner evolution, and one that should give a few clues as to what might come next.
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CD
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DIGI 056CD
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The first side (first two tracks) were originally issued on the Penpals Forever cassette on Digitalis in 2008, limited to 180 copies. Both tracks have been completely remastered. The remaining pieces are all new and exclusive to this release. Svarte Greiner is the nom de plume of Deaf Center's Erik K. Skodvin. Hailing from Norway, his solo efforts are always stripped bare, white-knuckle sojourns through dark, haunted ambient sonic corridors. Penpals Forever (And Ever) is the imaginary tale of a long dead Baroque painter and his telekinetic correspondence with a flightless bird. It feels archaic; experimental death marches circa 1622. Like Guercino's Et in Arcadia ego, once the end is realized, there's nowhere left to go. It's beyond our experience and sometimes you never recover from the shock. Despite its rather cheery title, Penpals Forever (And Ever) is another step toward the abyss. Musically sparse, Svarte Greiner finds new channels connecting desolate landscapes through ethereal nightmares. It is music best served cold. Chattering, looping guitar lines that feel like muscle being separated from bone slowly build into aching piles of aural dissonance. It's painful to a point. Recorded voices speak a language you can't understand underneath ominous, echoing single notes. Distant metal fragments scrape the dirt from detuned strings while a nefarious feathered minstrel bows dying instruments in the background. No hope left, death is just around the corner. As it ever was, Svarte Greiner is again weaving something deliciously sinister. This is music that is uncomfortably bare. Within its blood-stained confines, there is nowhere to hide. Skodvin's tangled, gnarled tale goes back and forth into infinity until it becomes clear that the flightless bird in question lives inside your skull. Drowning slowly into one's own twisted mind, Penpals is the soundtrack of loss; the procession of fears gradually becoming so overbearing that you can't escape your own demons.
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LP
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DIGI 056LP
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LP version. The first side (first two tracks) were originally issued on the Penpals Forever cassette on Digitalis in 2008, limited to 180 copies. Both tracks have been completely remastered. The remaining pieces are all new and exclusive to this release. Svarte Greiner is the nom de plume of Deaf Center's Erik K. Skodvin. Hailing from Norway, his solo efforts are always stripped bare, white-knuckle sojourns through dark, haunted ambient sonic corridors. Penpals Forever (And Ever) is the imaginary tale of a long dead Baroque painter and his telekinetic correspondence with a flightless bird. It feels archaic; experimental death marches circa 1622. Like Guercino's Et in Arcadia ego, once the end is realized, there's nowhere left to go. It's beyond our experience and sometimes you never recover from the shock. Despite its rather cheery title, Penpals Forever (And Ever) is another step toward the abyss. Musically sparse, Svarte Greiner finds new channels connecting desolate landscapes through ethereal nightmares. It is music best served cold. Chattering, looping guitar lines that feel like muscle being separated from bone slowly build into aching piles of aural dissonance. It's painful to a point. Recorded voices speak a language you can't understand underneath ominous, echoing single notes. Distant metal fragments scrape the dirt from detuned strings while a nefarious feathered minstrel bows dying instruments in the background. No hope left, death is just around the corner. As it ever was, Svarte Greiner is again weaving something deliciously sinister. This is music that is uncomfortably bare. Within its blood-stained confines, there is nowhere to hide. Skodvin's tangled, gnarled tale goes back and forth into infinity until it becomes clear that the flightless bird in question lives inside your skull. Drowning slowly into one's own twisted mind, Penpals is the soundtrack of loss; the procession of fears gradually becoming so overbearing that you can't escape your own demons.
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CD
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TYPE 033CD
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This is Erik Skodvin's (one-half of Deaf Center) second full-length release for the Type label as Svarte Greiner. His debut Knive was a milestone in doom music. Taking a surprisingly acoustic route, he kick-started a sub-genre as he used cello, violin and rattling miscellanies to conjure up blood-curdling soundscapes. Kappe continues Skodvin's blackened underworld cruise, furthering his mysterious, cinematic sound. Through incessant touring, Skodvin has built up a distinctive live technique since the release of Knive and it is this which works as a spirit guide on Kappe. Travelling the dark corners of the world, Skodvin has explored every shadowed alleyway in his grasp, built up a collection of broken glove-puppets and potion-filled medicine bottles and trapped many a stifled scream in the process. Some of these disparate adventures were captured to cassette tape (Penpals Forever, Digitalis Limited) and wax disc (Til Seters, A Room Forever), but the most evil moments were set aside for this full-length record; four fated psalms in honor of the dark Northern lords. The album's opener "Tunnel Of Love" may be the noisiest piece Skodvin has produced to date with a death-rattle of chains accompanying his patented maritime bass drone. It sounds something like Death's gondola gliding through purgatory, gradually building into a dense, chattering cloud of torment before dropping into bleak stillness. Skodvin is joined by Ultralyd saxophonist Kjetil Møster who adds a disarmingly terrifying squeal to the horrifying detuned strings on "Candle Light Dinner Actress." The most startling change here is his incorporation of the electric guitar -- "Mystery Man" sees Skodvin harness the feedback into loops of distressing, pained melancholy, bringing to mind Skullflower or a slow-motion Sonic Youth at times. Kappe, however, is very much its own beast, and followers will already know that nothing sounds quite like Svarte Greiner. You won't find a more unsettling winter record.
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