I first saw Eivør at Castlefest in 2018. I enjoyed the set but ed thinking how it was kinda mainstream compared to the other acts. Still wildly entertaining but in a stark contrast to the last two times I’ve seen her Heilung. But that’s cool, I’ve heard that she tries not to stick to a specific genre—just whatever she’s feeling at the time, which is where the healing comes into it.
Musical artists are not machines churning out fashionable content, they are complex people with complex lives expressing and healing themselves through their music. If it’s for you, then great. If not, then try something else. Tonight I just found her enchanting. Her voice is both gentle and soothing before she belts out a note that blows through the soul like a gust of wind blowing away the cobwebs.
Some people misunderstand this style of music as dark and frightening, but I’m always seeing the artists remind us—as Eivør did tonight—that like the planet, people also move through dark and light phases. The ups with the downs, dark moods and light, elated moments. And that’s ok. All part of the human experience. If the music can come down to you and lift you back up…
It reminded me of a word I learned in Denmark: “hygge”. This is the people’s reaction to cold and dark nights where the daylight gets shorter and shorter. They respond by cosying in together, making meals, sharing fun times together and listening to good music.
I’m particularly awestruck seeing female vocalists throat singing. It does play on the imagination hearing a song such as “Trøllabundin” when you hear the word troll and can almost imagine the song as a conversation between Eivør and trolls. I did later learn that “trøll” is a Faroese word for “sorcerer” or “enchantress” and “bundin” meaning bound. Oh well, still a spellbinding listening experience.
It has to be said I’ve seen as much variation in her music style as with her outfits, which have gone from everyday, to Viking, to goth steampunk. The Victorian-themed creation you wore was amazing! Can I have it after the tour is over?
There’s a lot of friendly rivalry between Edinburgh and Glasgow. Edinburgh being the posh city and Glasgow being the “says it how it is” city. Couldn’t help but smile at this thinking of the Glasgow show two years ago when the band had come on stage—no music yet, but preparing for something—and an audience member yells out, “shut the f*** up at the bar!”
You could see Maria laughing out of surprise and possible embarrassment. Welcome to Glasgow. We f***ing swear. To the Edinburgh show when Kai raises a drinking horn and someone yells “slàinte!”—a comment that Kai toasted in approval. We just have very different ways of saying we like you!
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I do love how Heilung refer to their shows as rituals rather than concerts. And if you know what you’re seeing, you’ll know that’s exactly what is happening. Beginning with spiritual cleansing where the band dust each other—seriously, the guy with the feather was able to make a sound that simulated a real bird.
They then turn their attention to the audience, allow the incense smoke to waft out over them and the whole auditorium fills with the aroma of frankincense. The corners are then called—north, south, east and west—not sure which language, but my limited grasp of German and Swedish thinks it recognised some words.
The circle is closed, a safe space created, everyone protected within it, and the ritual begins. It seems they’ve used “In Maidjan” to open every show I’ve watched and it never stops being the perfect opener. Just how it goes from being the eerie silence of the forest, the birds singing, the anticipation building, Kai opening with a roar, and the drumming begins.
The sudden shock of such a loud beat immediately begins to gather the of the other instruments. It still makes me jump each time, but a second later you’re clapping, bobbing or somehow a part of the music.
My favourite song will always be “Krigsgaldr”, and although it wasn’t performed, there were other songs with a warlike theme such as “Svanrand” and “Othan”, complete with the Heilung army formed up with shields and spears. It’s a powerful message, equally as powerful as the history that inspired it.
Much of Heilung’s art has been inspired by the Bronze Age and in particular the enigmatic carvings of Tanum in Sweden that I was lucky enough to visit in 2023. The carvings depict scenes of battle and of warships sailing off into the unknown. It has driven my imagination so much. Where were those ships going? What was their purpose? Trade? Exploring? Plundering?
Only the other day I was learning that there was evidence of Whitby jet being traded with Norway long before the Vikings made that infamous trip to Lindisfarne. The era was called the Bronze Age for a reason—the newly discovered alloy that led to demand for copper and tin all over the Mediterranean basin.
There is evidence to suggest a huge prehistoric harbour in Cornwall, England—a region famous for its tin mining and evidence of trade during the Roman Empire. How do we know there wasn’t also trade between Britain and Scandinavia at this time? Unless in true Viking style the tin was less traded for than taken by force? Hence the need for victory carvings to celebrate?
As I began to hear the sound waves for “Norupo” echo in my ear, my reaction was mixed. It’s a song I love but one I felt has become very overplayed in Viking/reenactment circles. But then what’s this? They have found a way to make it sound different without losing its original appeal.
The addition of more female voices and dramatic arm motions brought a raw, aggressive sound to the song. It made the music fresh again. It keeps you gripped and awestruck. As though the band is bringing home the message: “When we say healing, we mean it.”
One song that will never lose its energy for me is “Anoana”. It, for me, spells out something that I’ve felt for years. I like a lot of music not sung in English—some people dismiss it because they don’t understand the lyrics. I mean, why? Do opera enthusiasts speak fluent Italian?
If you can listen to the vibe, the tempo, and the key of the music, you can feel if the music is happy, serious, angry, romantic or sad. “Anoana” is one of those songs that can only be understood by those with a knowledge of ancient Germanic languages as it has no English translation.
For me, I don’t care what it means. The feelings and emotions it stirs by doing a siren of the vocal range—deep bass vocals that carry up through the scales before erupting into a zenith that could be likened to a chant meant to carry on the wind and be heard by ancient spirits. Just haunting.
“Nikkal” was a revelation. They brought the focus to Maria and the other two female singers—total triple goddess vibes. They did later have Maria sitting in front of a large drum with a light behind it so she shone like the sun goddess—appreciation, adoration.
But the song itself was a shock to learn it had Mesopotamian roots. Hymn 9 of the wife of the moon god Nikkal. I was entranced. Memories somewhere between my childhood composing tunes on a xylophone with the rest of the class preparing for school plays, and the haunting hymns I saw performed at St Basil’s Basilica in Moscow.
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While there’s no evidence of a direct link between Mesopotamia and Russia, I have heard the legends of the distances covered in the Bronze Age by travelling traders selling frankincense and well, if their stories—which found their way into the Bible—reached Russia, the hymns may have too. Anything is possible with resurrected music and the influences of the composer.
“Asja” is another favourite of mine but one that always makes me smile. When I first read the translation I learned it’s a good luck chant! I’d always listened to the opening chant that to me was very reminiscent of a war cry, followed by Maria’s vocals very reminiscent of Valkyries circling above the carnage seeking out the bravest of the fallen. But no. A good luck chant. Good luck to you.
But then, when I first heard “Krigsgaldr”, I thought it was about metalworking…..
“Hammyer Hippyer” is a song I know to be based on a 900-year-old spell. A chant by Odin to save Baldur’s horse when it fell and broke its ankle. The spell calls for the tissues to re by calling on other deities of the Norse pantheon. Again, the core principle is healing.
The performance and delivery of this ancient spell, however—bearing in mind this is entirely my own observation, I am not speaking on behalf of the band when I say this, I am making my own interpretation—I see “Hammyer Hippyer” in two ways.
The first as a celebration performed at the end of the ritual—that the hard work part (i.e., the battle, the incantations, the purpose) has been achieved and the time is now for celebration, with almost Bacchanalian proportions. Or is this a demonstration of how Bronze Age shamans and pilgrims/revellers may have done their magical workings?
I’m reminded of tours I have taken and reading I have done that describes the pre-Christian worldview. That there are realms inhabited by gods and goddesses, dwarves, elves, giants and even the dead that exist alongside ours. Yet they are cut off from us by veils, energetic barriers.
In order to access these realms and communicate with the deities, one has to break through these barriers. This can be done by various different methods. South and Central American shamans used hallucinogens to journey to these realms and bring messages back from the gods.
It can also be done by raising your own energies—through playing music, through chanting, through drumming—and I mean these drummers had a beat all of their own. Rolling with the rhythm, almost marching as they pounded those hides, clearly having the time of their lives. The dancers not just dancing but throwing caution to the wind and just allowing the music to take control.
Again, I know of ritual practices where the dancers dance literally to the point of exhaustion in order to reach the mind states needed to work with spirit. Then there’s our Maria who has it down to a fine art with her drumming. The stamina she must have to beat a drum with that much energy throughout the entire ritual.
All this to get anyone who hasn’t reached that mindset and feel their healing energies to where they need to be? It is true that it became undeniably hot in the auditorium around that time. I really love watching Maria posing with her drum. Maria and her drum are the spiritual equivalent of Slash and his guitar in that iconic “Sweet Child o’ Mine” pose.
Photos by Gavin Lowrey
