Ahead of a new studio album slated for September, Nordic Giants have decided to undertake a little housekeeping, reshaping the earliest songs from their catalogue. revisits 2010’s debut EP , plus both sides of standalone singles and , alongside the epic . All of these tracks predate the self-styled “claustrophobic cinema clutter” of their first album, 2015’s , prompting a sonic makeover more befitting of the inscrutable duo’s recent work.
Freshly recorded guitars, piano, synths, drums and strings give these songs a greater dynamic range – and a crisper, cleaner fidelity – that serve to bridge the furthest extremes of the Giants’ sound. Huge, dramatic swells heighten the urgency of opening cut , which uses samples from key Martin Luther King speeches, particularly 1967’s ‘ ’ address. An intense ride, the music underscores society’s need for ‘ ’ and the imminent peril of being ‘ .
’ It’s a call to humanity, and a quest for moral conviction, that still resonates, of course. And one that the Giants would repeat on – whose similarly-pointed also samples MLK. By contrast, Rod Steiger’s impassioned turn as Napoleon in 1970’s , making his abdication speech to the Old Guard at Fontainebleau, forms the spine of .
It’s a brilliantly-measured piece, with Rôka and Löki building the musical drama with piano and synths, gradually rising into something symphonic. As Steiger becomes more histrionic, screaming “Remember me!” a great fanfare cras.
