Remember those two goth girls you knew back in high school. You know, the ones who hung out at the mall on weekends, drinking Starbuck's coffee and eating McDonald's? Well, Perdition City, the new album from Christophorus G. Rygg and Tore Yiwizaker (aka Ulver) is a lot like that. We're talking lite goth-industrial mixed with smooth-jazz and lame electronic music (the kind so bad it's actually deserving of the derogatory term often used by chain music stores: "electronica"). In other words, total and utter crap.
To be fair, the first few seconds of Perdition City offers some potential. The first track, "Lost in Moments," opens with a driving drum-machine beat heavily treated in reverb, reminiscent of the sort that often found its way into early 70s psychedelia. After about 20 seconds of this, the beat drops out, and it's contrasted with a few sparse piano chords, and random vocals-- likely from an ill-tuned radio-- in the distance. All's well so far. And then comes the saxophone. Guest musician Rolf Erik Nystrom plays sax with the schmaltziest of them, which, to be fair, is a perfect match for the vocals-- would-be-savvy, seductive male crooning that briefly flirts with the idea of carrying the song before mercifully disappearing again. As the sax thankfully leaves with the vocals, the drum machine and piano return. But even, in this new context, they sound plastic and uninspired. By the time the song draws to a close with ominous minor chords, whooshing wind-sounds and a crackly-voiced narration, you have to wonder how anyone's supposed to take this seriously.
Even more laughable are the liner notes, which-- if one can wade through the pretentious nonsense like, "I know now that the underworld is incalculable. To describe it we rely exclusively on tones, sounds, rhythm and pure instrumentality"-- divulge that these guys consider Coil an influence. Excuse me while I retreat to a corner and snicker to myself. Loud enough that people on the other side of the room can hear.
What these guys don't seem to realize, is that layering some "creepy" vocals ("Ghosts presence/ Ghost music from the radio at night and you can't sleep") over a vaguely ambient backdrop that sounds like an amateur rendition of "Who Will Fall" (as they do on-- snicker snicker-- "We Are the Dead") does not make you Coil. It makes you a Coil rip-off. A blatant one. You see, Ulver makes music that is "dark" and "ominous" without actually posing any legitimate threat, not unlike those two girls you knew back in high school.
Really. I can't even begin to comprehend how anyone who listens to Coil could release music this corny and live with themselves. Coil is legitimately frightening. Ulver is frightening like a made-for-TV horror movie is frightening. Ulver makes music for people who want to convince themselves that they dig creepy music without ever having to worry about nervously glancing over their shoulder or feeling their pulse rise.
For Christ's sake, on "Catalept," they actually sample Bernard Herrmann's theme from Psycho. Sorry, guys, but after Busta Rhymes uses it, it no longer falls into the "creepy" category. Furthermore, the creepiest music in the world generally ceases to be creepy when attached to a drum-machine beat that for all intents and purposes might be named "Demo."
Still, I'm all about giving credit where credit is due, and I must give Ulver points for variety. According to their website, Rygg and Yiwizaker hail from the Norwegian metal scene, pinning Perdition City as something of a departure from their norm. Even among the tracks on the album, the duo tries out a few different styles. Besides the pseudo-industrial tracks, there's also "Hallways of Always," a lame excursion into the world of Casio-based electronics, and "Porn Piece or the Scars of Cold Kisses," which takes a stab at bad adult-contemporary balladry and disguises it with Casio-based electronics.
Who knows? Maybe Perdition City was nothing more than a well-intentioned but ultimately ill-advised experiment for these guys. Maybe, in their more traditional form, Ulver is a really solid metal band. If that's the case, well, you can't blame a band for trying something different. That said, Ulver might want to consider a return to their metal roots. If I want to hear something creepy, I'll stick to the real thing.
