It’s always daunting to do this column to begin with, since most of the bands we cover in Nine Circles Ov… have huge discographies. Add that, then, to the fact that today’s band left the metal scene long ago but are still recognized by metal listeners as important, and you have a conundrum. Norway’s Ulver phased out of metal early in their career, and since the late 90s have covered just about every musical style under the sun, amassing an array of releases over time. This list doesn’t begin to plumb the depths of what they have to offer, but here are the Nine Circles Ov… Ulver.

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“Capitel III: Graablick blev hun vaer” (Bergtatt) 

Bergtatt is very much a predecessor for bands like Myrkur, focusing on atmosphere and beauty over brutality and abrasiveness. On this particular song, probably the heaviest on Bergtatt, Ulver lead listeners through twists and turns of melodic black metal and acoustic folk interludes with Garm’s vocals in top form as he switches from shrill screams to his signature clean chant. Complete with sound effects that put listeners in the middle of the album’s storyline, it is an intensely vivid and striking listen.

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“Kledt i nattens farger” (Kveldssanger) 

Almost as soon as their debut established their metal credentials, Ulver did a 180 and released an album composed entirely of traditional Norwegian folk music blended with neo-classical and choral motifs. The strong, throaty chants are a tasteful foil to the delicate acoustic picking and throbs of the cello, and this is a sound that would have a massive influence on the neofolk movement. With few of the songs stretching beyond the 4-minute mark, the brevity of Kveldssanger is also what makes it easily replayable.

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“Hymn IV: Of Wolf and Man” (Nattens Madrigal) 

When stereotypes of black metal are discussed, this album usually comes up. Thin, static-swamped guitars incessantly churn out abrasive riffs that, on first listen, repel the ears. Drums are tinny, bass is absent, Garm’s screams are in the red — and yet, this song is beautiful. It’s one of the most melodic tracks on Nattens Madrigal and its ending minute is positively cathartic and nearly uplifting. Fortunately, Nattens Madrigal has been newly mixed and mastered for a boxset, making this beast a little gentler on the ears.

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“A Song of Liberty, Plates 25-27” (Themes from William Blake’s The Marriage of Heaven & Hell) 

Definitely their most misunderstood, and probably their weakest album, Themes is a transitional piece more than anything, full of all sorts of weirdness and deliberately left-of-center electronic experimentation. The band’s attempt to distance themselves from metal comes off as contrived at points. This song, however, is a triumph: In addition to the strangely fitting reading by Fenriz and pulsing techno beats, its halfway point is marked by a majestic, triumphant melodic black metal riff that is a foil to cold clanging of the programmed drums.

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“The Future Sound of Music” (Perdition City) 

The first fully successful transition into electronic territory, Perdition City was marked by sparse, ambience and gently pulsing percussion loops, conjuring images of a rainy city night, dark alleys, and gritty urban decay. This track highlights how simplicity is the driving force: A jarring, strong piano chord structure drives the song as whirring synths are slowly introduced, and over the course of the track, melody gives way to cold industrial percussion as the driving force. This track blends the nocturnal melancholy of early works with the daring forays into electronica that would mark their latter career.

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“Not Saved” (Silencing the Singing EP) 

Silencing the Singing and its preceding partner EP were both exercises in stark, ominous minimalism, stripping away all but the most essential elements of songwriting. “Not Saved” is one of the more ornate cuts from these sessions. It is driven by an echoing church bell as a solemn organ-like sound lingers on three chords, occasionally interrupted by loops of static and modulated noise, drilled into listeners’ skulls over its ten-minute runtime. It’s incredibly haunting and carries listeners into a gloomy yet serene state.

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“NOFVJ0224070” (Lyckantropen Themes) 

Further going down the path of minimalistic ambient music, Lyckantropen Themes was originally commissioned as the soundtrack to a short film. It takes the austere minimalism of the two previous EPs and combines them with a slight industrial bend, resulting in a beautiful but alien listen. The seventh track, in its brevity, is breathtaking in its fragile serenity. A heart-rending piano loop blooms and blossoms as additional layers of counter-melodies and harmonies are added, and the final result is enough to bring genuine tears of catharsis. Probably my favorite Ulver track ever, honestly.

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“All the Love” (Shadows of the Sun) 

Shadows of the Sun is almost liturgical in its approach, with warm, caressing synths and pianos driving most of the songs. Garm’s vocal performance here is one of his strongest to date, only amplified by the ethereal, reverb-laden mix, solemn piano, and distant, low-mixed drums. This track reaches its climax halfway through with a muted trumpet solo as heavy toms build, modulated noise swells, adding a menacing vibe to an otherwise serene piece. Absolutely exquisite in terms of texture and songwriting.

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“Schri Schneider” (Messe I.X-VI.X) 

Messe I.X-VI.X is probably the strongest Ulver album of the 21st century. A halfway collaboration with the Tromsø Chamber Orchestra, it is a true union of classical musical with ambience, holding true to the foundations of each genre and resulting in a work that is immensely larger than the sum of its parts. “Schri Schneider” is the best display of this as pulsing, arpeggiated synths play off of the woodwind section, and the strings and chorus are looped, chopped, and modulated to become an ambient backdrop. And the album only gets stronger later on.

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This doesn’t even begin to touch the genius that Ulver’s discography offers. Dig deeper.

– Dustin