MØL: Healing A Split Soul

It’s been a momentous few years for Danish blackgaze troupe MØL; their debut album Jord seemingly came out of nowhere and either topped or saw high placements on many year end lists on its 2018 release. With the collapse of their former label, they were quickly snapped up by Nuclear Blast, a huge step upwards for them and all eyes were on their sophomore album Diorama. By all accounts, it’s exceeded even the lofty expectations of it so we made sure to sit down with vocalist Kim Song Sternkopf to talk about the album, horror movies and trauma therapy.

“I think in terms of key words? Surreal. That pretty much fits the description of where’re heading, or at least how I see reviews ticking in at the moment,” Kim begins. “But I’m trying to not let that get to my head, because I know for a fact that we’re really satisfied with what we ended up with. I feel there’s a weight lifted from my heart in terms of what I wanted to say.” He’s carried that weight throughout his life; as we delve into some of the themes of the album, initially lead single Photophobic, he describes it as “a moment in a process that spans throughout the album”. That process is one of trauma therapy, something that’s worked out throughout Diorama.

“You go through a slew of emotional stages until maybe you can finally get to some kind of reconciliation, or at least a sense of realisation,” he explains. Though his experiences are his alone, it’s something he’s seen echoes of, especially in the occult horror film Hereditary. “That’s one of the reasons it’s called Diorama; the main protagonist, she makes dioramas, like 3D representations of pretty traumatic events in her life. And she dives head into those and actually ends up getting possessed or, taken over by her past and what’s happened there. That hit a note, that pulls some strings inside me,” Kim offers. The difference between the two is that Hereditary has a bleak ending, whereas with Diorama, the final note is one of hope in its title track.

Though, this wasn’t always to be the case. “For a long time, I thought I had to end on [penultimate track] Tvesind. Because that was the part of my process. I ended up there. And it, well it’s pretty dark,” he begins to explain. Lyrically the song deals with having knowledge and the impact this can have on us; what do we do with that knowledge? “You end up with despair, facing a lot of suffering because of the knowledge that you have,” he says. Opening up on the translation of the lyrics – both Tvesind and the title track are in Danish to preserve some privacy for the deeply personal themes they evoke – he explains that the imagery is Biblical in nature.

“I’m devouring the Tree of Knowledge,” he says. This refers back in a way to Jord; translating literally to “earth”, it was his way of processing losing faith, having grown up in a deeply religious household. That experience is one he’s been processing through both albums; now with Tvesind he found himself pondering what to do with this knowledge, that sense of despair creeping in. “I’m happy that we ended up with putting Dioramaat the end [though] because it has a sense of weight. I see it as a way of reaching a mountaintop and looking back at the valley below you and what road you have travelled up until that point, looking down on that valley of darkness and despair,” he explains of it.

Diorama is the almost the polar opposite of despair; a vocal feature from Katherine Shepard, aka SYLVAINE, makes the song ethereally beautiful. To Kim, it means “that was the road I’ve travelled, that is what I carry with me. But does it keep me locked? Or is it going to make me accept things inside myself to a point I can move on, start living?”

This sense of reconciliation, inner peace almost, reflects across the album in some of the creative risks they’ve taken, including the first introduction and use of melodic singing on a MØL album in the chorus of Itinerari. The decision was seemingly straightforward; “I was convinced to try to do some parts here. There’s just a sort of, really nakedness and vulnerability that you feel with exposing your clean singing,” he tells us as to why they chose this path. “This album, it moves closer to home, it’s more introspective.” This introspection and even more personal note led to it and also because in this vulnerability, he draws strength. “It’s about standing up for yourself and you see that movement also throughout a lot of culture today, like people taking ownership of their identity,” he begins. “In Tvesind, I have this lyric – my strength is vulnerable, I’m laying myself down exposed, bloody, alive and warm; that’s where I see true bravery,” he finishes; for all the blackened fury and storms that MØL summon, there’s an almost tenderness, a vulnerability. They open space for honest conversations with themselves and for others to lose themselves in the harsh, but welcoming beauty of their sound.

Diorama is out now via Nuclear Blast Records.

Like MØL on Facebook.