TALVI: Complete Works ’01-’22 & Solstice Collection ’99-’02/’23
Release year: 2023
Label: self-released
Way back in the very early noughties, Finnish label Spinefarm (at the time home of acts such as Children Of Bodom and Barathrum) had a number of record stores, the base of which was the so-called Spine-Center right in the heart of Helsinki, capital of Finland. For a young me, it was my prime source – nay, virtually sole source! – of extreme metal. Though the label focused on slightly more commercially appealing forms of metal music, the store had an impressive section of all kinds of black and death metal. One could make real discoveries there, and many such I did (some of which we’ll eventually feature in our From The Vaults series).
They also had a small selection of demos and items self-released by bands, at that time mostly in CDr format, which I would always peruse through. One draw was their (naturally) cheaper price: if a regular CD cost 120-130 Finnish marks, a demo would usually cost 20 marks. That rounds up to about 150 marks, which in times of cash was a convenient even sum.
I think it was the summer of 2001, when I happened upon a demo CDr in that rack bearing the name of Ikirouta by an artist named Talvi. The logo looked like a black metal logo, and both the Old English font of the title and the black and white photography of a forest that served as cover art reeked of black metal. So, obviously I bought it. I think I also bought Mayhem’s De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas and possibly Thy Serpent’s Forests Of Witchery at the same time – talk about a pivotal day for my music taste. Perhaps not so much due to Talvi, but I digress…
“Nordisk Folklore Darkwave” proclaims the demo itself as its style. A genre descriptor that means absolutely nothing, in essence. Popping the disc (a regular HP CDr with no print on it – the standard of those days) into the player, I was not greeted by raw atmospheric black metal as I was expecting, but by melancholic synthesizers weaving wistful, forlorn melodies with both medieval and nature romantic inflections. Back in the day, we called it dark ambient. Today it is called dungeon synth.
Following in the footsteps of Mortiis (and his side projects), Wongraven (by Satyr of Satyricon), Burzum’s late 90’s albums, and such, Talvi is one of the earlier proponents of the then non-existent genre in Finland. Sure, there were synth side-projects by black metal musicians (a curse to be spotted on a distro list description) in Finland too, which fit the descriptor of dungeon synth, but not in any great amounts. So I make yon bold claim: Talvi is an unsung pioneer of dungeon synth.
Talvi only released the one demo back in the day, before sole member Arkkiperkele (as he is called on the Ikirouta demo – on these compilations he goes by P.M.A.) shifted his attention elsewhere. So, it’s not surprising Talvi came and disappeared without much hoopla. However, now the dust has been blown off ye olde synth, and Talvi has been resurrected. These two releases I’m reviewing together compile everything Talvi ever did and a lot it never did: the Ikirouta demo, the unreleased Lumisuva demo from 2003, newly completed tracks which remained only stubs back in the day, and some entirely new material. This is a great chance to get to know Talvi if you’ve never heard of ’em. Pin this as another vltra kvlt act none of your friends know about.
Revisiting Talvi, I am positively surprised by two things: first of all, how well the Ikirouta demo has aged, and secondly, how mature Talvi sounds in comparison to contemporary dungeon synth. Of course, it’s true that dungeon synth as a genre has a strong self-conscious lo-fi aesthetic where it doesn’t even try to sound all that sophisticated and polished; sounding like those turn-of-the-millennium demos (like Ikirouta!) is something many artists strive for.
Talvi, on the other hand, obviously tried back then to sound as good as possible with very limited means. And now, in 2023, Talvi employs nostalgia by utilizing old hardware and sounds, but with production values that aim higher than “early noughties demo.” This makes itself noticeable in the sound, which strives for clarity and crispness, and in the arrangements, which are far more than the crudest one finger melodies. Talvi’s music is genuinely arranged, with layers that interact with each other, creating dynamism and a sense of dialogue between elements in the music.
That’s not to say that Talvi is immaculate and perfect: especially on the older recordings, there are crude moments, where the timing is a bit wobbly or the arrangements betray more youthful excitement and ambition than mad composition skills. But what else can you expect from stuff composed and recorded 20 years ago, with consumer equipment of that time? As such, the imperfections and shortcomings paint a picture of the times. And in that context, with these reservations, both Ikirouta and Lumiusva come across as quite competent pieces of nascent dungeon synth.
When it comes to the entirely new material and the tracks newly assembled from old stubs, Talvi has managed to find a balance between nostalgia and the maturity accrued during the hiatus – or should I say hibernation to stick with wintry themes? There’s no massive divide between new and old, but at the same time, the new material is slightly more ambitious – and certainly lacks the crudities of the old material. Some dungeon synth enthusiasts may even fault the new material for this.
Funnily enough, to me Talvi – whose name means winter – has always been summer music. I remember buying the demo during summer, and listening to it during long, solitary summer evenings as the sun was setting. Listening to the material on these two releases now, I am transported back to those teenage days with a not insignificant sense of romanticized nostalgia. Life probably was way suckier then than I remember now, but Talvi brings back memories of long days with little to do, few responsibilities, and that sensation of a weird world opening itself up on the cusp of adulthood.
Somehow, there’s an innate, almost intrinsic sense of nostalgia in dungeon synth. And when it can be linked to authentic nostalgia and memories, it becomes all the more potent. As such, my evaluation of Talvi is anything but objective or unbiased. Though Ikirouta was never a huge thing for me, it was a release I listened to quite a lot (as a teen in pre-streaming days, one could only afford to buy music quite seldom – so anything you got, you listened to a lot!), and the melancholic, romantic melodies have indelible memory imprints on me.
But even these personal ties notwithstanding, I earnestly think Talvi is an act that deserves to be discovered by more people. It’s very classic dungeon synth of a rather wistful and forlorn nature, effectively evoking emotions of distant sadness mixed with the beauty of nature. In an age where a great many dungeon synth archaeologists dig deep to discover forgotten gems of yore, here’s one ripe for the picking. Talk about badly mixed up metaphors to end this text with!
Only Death Is Real 