Future Daughter - Nye Krigere

A Closer Listen

Nye Krigere (New Warriors) started as a stage play about two warriors constructing elaborate machines.  One such mechanism is seen on the cover and in the video below.  According to Future Daughter, these creations are “shields of meaning around an empty reality.”  The shields represent the warriors, who might, despite their gestures, never go to war.

The music is dramatic and open to interpretation: electronic, with a core of drone.  The cover of the single (also seen below) displays a band member, a warrior or both in a costume that draws equally from manga and The Wizard of Oz: an odd yet appealing character with whom one might empathize or for whom one might cheer.

“Overture” is already stretching boundaries of density and volume, sounding appropriately like preparations for battle.  A gentler electronic theme emerges at the very end.  “Affærer” yields a fairy tale feel, with sweet embedded vocals, but ends in a storm, the machines rolled out to face one another.  The title track hits like a fanfare, more elegant than intimidating.  Could it be that for all the hard work and bluster, these warriors may yearn only to be recognized and heard?  Might they be adding layers of armor in hopes of removal?  This contrast lies at the heart of the music, which incorporates moments of vulnerability and a tentative inner peace.  The largest gulf can be heard in “Konfrontasjon,” which includes harsh whispers and electronic attacks alongside choir and organ.

At what point will these warriors realize the futility of their situation?  Might they ever step back and simply admire the work of the other?  The electronic conversation of “Inni (Inside)” seems to indicate that the two curious parties have at least begun to parlay.  Each side contributes snippets of what becomes a duet, neither dominating the other.  A single song emerges in “Eg Er Liten Eg” ~ a single voice, a single vision.  While only ninety seconds long, the clarity bodes well for future interactions.  Even when the drone drowns the singer, the song remains.

What sort of worlds do we build around ourselves?  What fictions do we create, and what false characters do we play?  Nye Krigere lays such practices bare, while conveying an obvious love for the warriors.  Through music and metaphor, Future Daughter challenges, but does not condemn.  The music is a mirror, inviting viewers to confront their own quixotism.  (Richard Allen)