Norwegian Sylvaine and Faroese Island legend Eivør have brought their unique performances to New Zealand as part of a world tour that will see the powerfully voiced pair weave their way across the world over the next few months.
Softly spoken support sister Sylvaine said it about right early on to those faithfully gathered at the Powerstation. Tonight is a kind of a celebration of Nordic music. It certainly was. And that’s not a phrase you get to use too often.
If the debut performance is anything to go by, the world is in for a treat. And something a long way from the traditional how y’all doin’/here’s my number one single type live gig.
Eivør is no stranger to these parts, having performed as support for Heilung in November 2024, followed by an intimate gig of her own at The Tuning Fork a week later.
Whatever magic she wove back then has clearly taken hold locally, the gig was pretty much full, and full early. None of the usual drift in after a few quiet beverages over the road that you often see at this venue. They were here early, packing the downstairs, lining the balconies.
A curious crowd, too: lots of alt-metal/hard rock fans, by the Tool, Pearl Jam and Metallica t-shirts – OMG is that a Gojira patch?! gushed someone near me – through to the did you iron that costume? crew in full Clan of the Cave Bear outfits – fur vests, face paint, plaited locks, barefoot. I kept looking around for the pet mammoth. Truly.
Sylvaine entered under cool light on this warm night, tottering on outrageous heels, an Arctic angel, swishing blond hair and serpentine arm movements, as if conjuring the spirits to help bring her music to life.
As Eivør too was to show us, Sylvaine has a voice that can barely be described: sweet, soft, lyrical, the angel in big boots swaying gently to her glossal outpourings… and then pouring out of the pipes comes this octave leaping sonic force, so powerful she’s well back from the mike, energy firing from her, reaching alpine-like melodic heights, before suddenly returning to those soft, almost fairy-like whispers.
The power and control were remarkable.
With her big electric guitar and a few pedals Sylvaine held us transfixed, her girlish, self-deprecating between-song banter a remarkable contrast to the sudden, scary growls that she could bring forth mid-song.
Like Eivør, Sylvaine is known for her throat singing: with both women, it is as if a forest spirit has taken hold, and what emerges bears little resemblance to anything I’ve heard come out of a human being before. The crowd loved it.
Reference points are Mazzy Star, Evanescence at a pinch, her own sources traditional Norwegian music through to some heavier, darker material, while she did a nice take on Alison Krauss & Union Station’s Restless, too.
A sweet departure, a short wait, and then the main attraction: Eivør plus band.
As someone calls out, very early on: she is their queen. Tall, regal, powerful, she’s all billowing skirts, flowing tresses and a wimple-like black headpiece over that white-blond hair; the angular architecture of her face is visible and startling even from the upstairs balcony.
Eivør described traditional Faroese music, once, as pure, expressive and untamed. That’s what she is. There is no posturing here, no trad-rock dramatics, just That Voice and Those Songs.
The songs cover the waterfront: some Lorde-like spacious electronica, some harder rocking wall-of-metal-sound powerhouse tracks, the band’s architecture moving from Sigur Røs shimmering to full noise within songs, when it’s called for.
There were a few songs that the faithful seemed to recognise more than others, but it wasn’t really about the setlist, despite her telling us she worked hard to pick a judicious selection for the show from my many, many albums…too many!
Having done some soundtrack work – God of War, Ragnarök, The Last Kingdom there are songs that are recognisable, but it’s not really about that.
This is an entire experience. You just let the sorceress that she is conjure up magic, a magic that is delicate and fragile – the solo Vero Min (meaning My Wound) is haunting, and then it’s powerful, bellicose, threatening to lift the roof off and carry us all away somewhere else.
What’s staggering is when the band is at full tilt, that voice still soars above it – a remarkable feat of vocalising.
Hats off, too, to the soundies – there is so much dark and light, loud and soft in her performance, but nothing was missed, nothing was muddy, nothing jarred.
The highlight is when her traditional Sámi drum comes out: it’s atavistic, mesmerising, captivating. The vocalising, the incessant tribal rhythm, the sometimes-guttural language, both challenging and beautiful. Again, a stark, stunning contrast to much of the set, which is piano and synth heavy, often, drums that rely heavily on the tribal toms, electronic underpinnings and even a little stand-up Steinberg bass, all explosive colour, tension, dramatics.
All the way through to the very last song, the single encore, Falling Free where everything we’d witnessed came together in one, final, furious finale. Even Eivør seemed a little breathless at the end of that!
It was ancient, thoroughly modern. Welcoming, challenging. Conjured some spirts, laid some demons to rest, and slayed a few dragons. There was myth, mysticism, magic. Fragility and firepower. Nordic, Celtic, Icelandic, Greenlandic. Definitely not yacht rock! Unless your boat is a Viking ship, afire and heading for Valhalla.
Indeed, it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Next time she’s back, make sure you catch Eivør.
Michael Larsen
Photography by Ming Lyu
Eivør
Sylvaine