Review: Norna ‘Norna’

Named after the Norns, three Norse goddesses of fate who rule the destiny of mortals and immortals, post-hardcore power trio Norna have exploded onto the scene and established themselves as a force to be reckoned with in very little time. Formed in 2020 and comprising of vocalist Tomas Liljedahl (Breach, The Old Wind), guitarist Christophe Macquat and drummer Marc Theurillat (both of instrumental juggernaut Ølten), they came together under the watchful eye of friend and producer Magnus Lindberg (Cult of Luna) to create a searing nihilistic take on nineties/noughties influenced, abrasive, but hook-laden doom metal.

Composing their first album, 2022’s Star Is Way Way Is Eye, during pandemic conditions, gave the band a unique approach to the creative process that led to a singular take on the genre and one that the band eventually leaned on when constructing their latest album. This self-titled six-track assault sees them find a home as part of the expanding and diverse Pelagic Records roster and attempts to push the boundaries of their first record beyond their original ideas.

Samsara (the indefinitely repeated cycles of birth, misery and death caused by karma) immediately rips through the speakers with a slamming, cavernous ringing, complete with rasping vocals courtesy of Liljedahl. The tumbling drums of Theurillat sound like thunder as they clash with the angular, lurching riffs of Macquat. The swirling atmospherics and hard-hitting walls of noisy, crunching fuzz never settle into a groove, but out of the chaos emerges ominous quiet with creeping notes and thumping toms. Hard to pin down in a conventional sense, the track rages as they lyrically delve into the complexity of the dichotomy of mankind.

Following up with the slow march and intensity of the doom muscle they displayed on their first album, For Fear Of Coming rains hammer blows on the listener with the fearsome pounding offset as high notes glance off the low end. Again, the vocals bristle with a throat-scraping rawness that makes Norna such an extreme experience. The cathartic venting of the visceral subject matter feels like a huge weight crushing your chest. The eerie middle passage features strange effects like a gasping for breath and garbled, low samples of a female voice that feel unsettling and as the climax returns to the heavy barrage, the high notes stop it from blending into one.

Lead single Ghost starts with a stately riff that feels refreshing as it appears out of the turmoil that has preceded it, the deft lead notes contrasting against the muscular hammer blows of the rhythm section. The vocals on the track (and indeed across the album) go at one speed and that is intense; Liljedahl’s voice is raw, commanding and bullish as he vents his outrage. Even when the track slows to a more mellow passage that gives off a sense of relief, it is not long before the grim atmosphere returns with garbled, stuttering, distorted vocals that give way to some unsettling lead notes from Macquat.

Dense and oppressive, not even the melody at the end can detract from the sheer power they channel…

The slow moody intro to Shine By It’s Own Light sounds like the scratching of misaligned machinery. The backward vocal sample and the slithering hiss of noises like the coils of a metallic snake, open into a heavier refrain with more unhinged screams recalling the likes of Will Haven and Bloodlet, alongside the molasses-slow hardcore sludge with the heavy, relentless downtuned pummelling. Dense and oppressive, not even the melody at the end can detract from the sheer power they channel.

Shadow Works feels a little more urgent and tuneful as it charges straight in with deep string bends and overlapping cymbal splashes, however, it is mere moments before Norna returns to the bludgeoning. Using a few more techniques, they drop the moment and pick it back up seemingly at will. The breakdown that appears halfway through is expertly executed in terms of the tension used to manipulate the listener who knows that a big smash is coming, but the band tease you, raising the anticipation for the moment it all comes crashing back in at full force. The echoing, elongated screams wash with droning tones culminating in which the band’s PR copy describes a ‘rattling, ripped-speaker overdrive’.

Closing track The Sleep starts with more churning riffs and smashing cymbals but with an industrial-sounding edge. Once more Liljedahl screams himself hoarse over the plodding chord progressions and jagged walls of sound. When Norna brings the temperature down to a smouldering simmer, the nagging, insistent bass drives them onward and scraping feedback whines like the strain may prove too much. Whispered, inaudible and overlapping voices bring a sense of paranoia and darkness before they explode into the raging screams that have permeated throughout the album. After one last death rattle, Norna closes out their sophomore album with more screeching feedback and lingering discontent.

Norna is an uncomfortable listen and has been designed as such. On the surface, it is easy to feel like there is not a great deal of variation and movement in the musical journey they are taking you on, but there is plenty to get your teeth into here. It is an album that might seem one-dimensional on the surface and there are times when listening to the six acts is more like a study in the granular refinement of a riff cycle, perfecting the art of honing a piece of brutality until it pummels the audience in the most considered way. How you, as a listener, receive this will very much vary depending on your mileage, but for me, this is forty-one minutes of laser-focused fury, executed in a clinical and knowing way.

One of the heavier releases to come from Pelagic Records recent output, Norna have a vision that is only growing with time and the band has the potential to cause some serious waves.

Label: Pelagic Records
Band Links: Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram

Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden