Spurv – Brefjære | Album Review

An uncountable amount of albums have been written about nature. After all, there’s an endless amount of inspiration to be taken from nature’s splendour, our defilement of it and its silent resilience. Brefjære might be one of the best though.

The latest LP from the Norwegian post-rock sextet Spruv, Brefjære is a record that documents the occupants of Tromsø, the homestead of primary songwriter Gustav Jørgen Pedersen and a city situated well within the circumference of the Arctic Circle. However, this is not an album about humans or our feeble endeavours. Rather, it’s a record that aims to capture the conversations between the original inhabitants of the region; the butterfly, the birch-tree, the wind and the imposing mountains that reach upwards towards the aurora above. Tall tales yes, and for some, this could be a subject too fantastical or dare say pretentious. However, with its Scandinavian mysticism and vivid atmosphere, Brefjære is record that articulates such conversations in a manner that’s decadent and operatic.

In an age where many a post-rock band of this act’s kin are either too impatient or too meandering – their attempts at creating ambience dissipating into the ether – this body of work truly sees Spruv delivering a masterclass on conjuring atmosphere. As opener ‘Kronkete, Rettskafen’ begins with sombre strings and a 14 piece choir presenting the overture of the lamenting birch swaying lonesomely against the steel sky with Norwegian poetry, we are immediately placed into the wilds of the frozen north, its environments unconquered and untamed. From here onwards, the post metal density of ‘En Brennende Vogn Over Jordet’ is a guide through the wilds and mountain trails of the environment it lives within, its Russian Circles-esque riffs, brass flourishes and violin amplifying the unforgiving beauty and ruggedness present.

As the twinkling melodies and heart-swelling crescendo of ‘Som Skyer’ emulate the awe-inspiring majesty of the untainted polar night sky and as the monologue of ‘Under Himmelhvelvingen’ harkens the quiet spiritualism of Sigur Rós, the sheer immersive nature of Brefjære becomes almost tangible. Not entirely unlike how Heliung are an immersion in the ancient battles of prehistory, here Spurv are saturated with the decadent scenery of unspoiled nature, detailing how it mirrors human emotions of pain and whimsy.

‘Til En Ny Vår’, the record’s fifth track track and anchoring point presents this in an awe-inspiring way. With its wistful scope reminiscent of MONO and its swelling, shimmering guitars dramatically akin to something from Explosions In The Sky’s ceremonial The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place, the track is heavy with a sense of melodramatic human emotion, effectively giving human qualities to the characters this record tells the tales of. On top of this, this track – and record as a whole – bears brilliant witness to Spurv’s incorporation of composition techniques typically only seen classical movements that only furthers themselves from their contemporaries.

Of course, these massive and dramatic moments are thrilling, but without suitable contradictions, their shock would wane. Thankfully, the contrast between the towering post rock passages and more orchestral monologues provide ample contrast across the span of the record’s immersion, and in turn, the approach Spurv have taken only highlights this. Brefjære feels and sounds like the product of a post-metal orchestra rather than a simple band; with the assembly of guest musicians present working in tandem with Spurv across the record and the thunderous, classical-orientated motifs of ‘Urdråpene’, it’s easy to visualise head songwriter Pedersen leading the assembled with a conducting baton, summoning the imperial brass sections, tender violin and pummelling post-metal barrages with flicks of a wrist as dramatic as the soundscape they’re driving and animating with detail.

As the choir from the overture close the record with ‘Din Pust Fra Stein’ – a haunting passage as chilling as the ancient winds of Tromsø – the end of the album brings nothing but awe. With this stunning, genre-defying body of work, Spruv tell a tale incomprehensible to most, but in a manner that surpasses the limitations of language. In a modern age fraught with the destructive conquests of man where art has become a disposable commodity, Brefjære restates the beauty of the natural world and stands as a record that’s not as tragically ephemeral like the butterfly, but as enduring and interminable as the stories of the mountains themselves.