“Dungeon synth. ‘That might be a nice palate cleanser. That might be something chilled and easy to listen to.’ So thought I when I read the promo. This is somehow the seventh album from Swedish dungeon synth/ambient project Örnatorpet. Even after reading Dear Hollow‘s not especially glowing review of their previous, I maintained a grain of optimism, because how bad could it really be?” The death of optimism.
“Imagine, if you will, a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed black metal enthusiast hopping out of bed one bright January morning excited to rake the promo bin for some lovely blasphemous soundtracks for cursing dead gods above with outstretched fist. He sees Schemer Heer, scanning the promo: “Schemer Heer… brings bombastic, black metal and horror…” and he hungrily snatches it up. It certainly looks icy and blasphemous, and he gets all tingly inside, the way others might feel about that special someone or a hug from their favorite teddy bear. He presses play and…Dungeon synth.” Dungeon punked.
I have nothing against Dungeons & Dragons. I do, however, have an issue with the one kid who kept me from lesson planning by ceaselessly listing off statistics of his paladin and barbarian like I was supposed to know what the fuck he was talking about. I have a resentment toward the game thanks to that kiddo, unfortunately, so I’m already prejudiced against the relatively new genre of “dungeon synth.” While it began very ambitiously, taking cues from Medieval and Renaissance music and fantasy literature, bearing a black metal aesthetic, its role as a challenging and world-building style of dark ambient has been demoted as mere soundtracks of D&D campaigns everywhere. Örnatorpet seeks to add to the dungeon synth genre, hoping to whisk listeners away to a “forgotten realm, an arcane age.”” Dungeon lounge muzak.
