One of my favorite traits in a great song is juxtaposition. Harsh vocals over beautiful arrangements? Shut up and take my money. Perhaps that explains my affinity for the “blackgaze” genre, the bastard offspring of black metal and shoegaze. It’s like a volcano erupting into the depths of the Pacific Ocean, with boiling hot magma cutting through ice cold water. A Song of Ice and Fire, if you will (sorry). It’s a divisive genre for some, or at least that’s the case for the metal-gatekeeping-loser community (screaming is for everyone, you fuckin’ dorks).
Deafheaven are the forebears of this genre, and I’ll devote plenty of time and energy to them in the future. They’ve paved the way for a wave of bands to follow in their wake, and some have grown and evolved into something new. Møl (pronounced “mole”) is one of those groups that has carved out their own unique space, and I don’t think they get nearly the credit they deserve. If you like shimmering guitar solos and vocals that can rip a hole through the space-time continuum, I’ve got a band — and a song — for you.
Hailing from Denmark, Møl make music — sometimes in English, sometimes in Danish — that grabs you by the collar and shakes you until you feel something in this cold, dark world. The Great Algorithm in the Sky introduced me to them in 2021 and I’ve followed them closely ever since. Their most recent release, DREAMCRUSH, is an album about growth, change, and loss. In other words, it’s an album about your 30s, a decade in which your dreams (and your family) begin to wither and die.
It’s a strikingly beautiful album from start to finish, and I realize that’s an odd thing to say when lead singer Kim Song Sternkopf spends most of his time on the mic screaming. If you’re new to harsh vocals, I’m begging you: fight through that initial discomfort and stick around, because there’s an entire world of amazing music on the other side of that intimidating wall.
On DREAMCRUSH, Møl alternate between screaming and singing, from a wall of sound to quiet moments of reflection. The opening track “DREAM” is a perfect example, featuring a dreamy, gentle introduction and an explosion of sound about halfway through. It’s a wonderful contrast, and they’ve mastered the formula.
My favorite song on the album is “Mimic,” which spends its first few minutes absolutely pummeling you with drums, guitars, and cathartic screaming. If you’re like me and have a hard time discerning exactly what’s being said in all of the screaming, these lyrics are worth digging into.
“You speak to someone who is no longer here / Conversations into the air”
“You fake your answer / You make up the call / Will he answer, pick up the phone? / Open landlines / Towards the sky / Out of service, out of time“
This is a song about reckoning with the loss of a loved one. It’s about the overpowering desire to hear their voice one more time, even though you know you never will. It can be a hopeless feeling, and one that most of us can relate to. And then, about a minute and a half into the song, the pummeling ends and we re-enter the dream realm. Maybe we can reconnect with those we’ve lost. Perhaps, in moments of calm and clarity, we can feel their warmth, hear their laughter, and feel their embrace again. I’m not a religious person, but even I have felt these moments. For your sake, I hope you have, too.
It’s in that moment of glimmering hope, when time has stopped and we feel the presence of those we’ve lost, that Møl unleashes one of the best moments of the album. The best way I can describe it is through the Battle of Helm’s Deep.
In Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, a massive army of orcs marches on Helm’s Deep, an ancient fortress that the people of Rohan use for their last stand against a significantly larger army. The odds are hopeless, and it looks as if humanity will be snuffed out by the forces of evil. And then Gandalf literally shows up with the cavalry at dawn on the fifth day and saves the day.
In the darkest moment, when it seems as if all is lost, the sun (also) rises. Our protagonists look to the hill to the east and see Gandalf with an army of horsemen at his back. They charge down the hill as the rising sun illuminates the battlefield, and the cavalry route the orcs off the map and into a lesser (but still great!) sequel.
This is the scene I picture at the 2’15” mark of “Mimic,” when Møl cut through the clouds and darkness to reveal the core of this album: optimism in the face of hopeless odds. A shining light in a sea of darkness. It’s a beautiful moment on a beautiful album.
Follow the Good Tunes for Dark Times Instagram or check out the playlist on Apple Music or Spotify, which is updated regularly (or whenever I get to it, cut me some slack, sheesh).
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