by Kurt Orzeck
Do you ever wonder what yetis listen to when they’re stomping around like mopes in what remains of the melting Himalayas? Wait, pretend you didn’t read that: It’s such a stupid thing to say. Obviously, yetis don’t have access to cords or power strips, much less electrical sockets (oh, the … er, humanity!). Besides, even if they had the ability to listen to music as they trudged through the Tibetan hills, there’s no way Apple or any other tech company has developed earbuds or over-ear headphones tailored for ears the size of an Allen wrench head. Let’s try this again: Do you ever wonder what music yetis would make when they’re taking respites from stomping around like mopes in what remains of the melting Himalayas”?
The answer is Pharaoh Overlord’s Louhi. Consisting of two 19-minute-plus songs that lumber, stomp, and trudge along from start to finish, this is one of those rare records that makes you reflect, “How did someone come up with the idea to make music like this?” If you poke around elsewhere online to read about this record, chances are you’ll see the word “doom” crop up an awful lot. (Full disclosure: This writer has not done such searching, in order to preserve his pretentious sense of immunity from the influence of other critics.) But if you do encounter a review in which the writer claims the word “doom” is appropriate, venture elsewhere (may we suggest Post-Trash?) to grok what’s really going on here.
“Louhi (Part 1)” and “Louhi (Part 2)” are contortionist exercises, or scientific experiments if you will, into how far Aaron Turner (he of Sumac, Old Man Gloom, and formerly Isis) and progressive folk instrumentalist Richard Dawson can take guitars, synths, Turner’s harsh vocals, percussion — and, most distinguishably, hurdy-gurdy, into the farthest reaches of human comprehension, or maybe even outer space. Dawson spazzes out freak-style toward the end of the first half of Louhi. And it’s virtually impossible not to use the word “drone” when describing the repetitious, steady throbs that support the platform upon which Turner and Dawson can reach for the brass rings of their artistic curiosities.
As you might expect, Louhi is a folklore reference: specifically, an evil Finnish witch who can take on different forms, seemingly akin to Melisandre, the Red Woman in Game of Thrones. But Pharaoh Overlord has publicly clarified that they went with the title to connote "Louhinta,” the Finnish word for bitcoin mining. The additional comments the band has said about the meaning of the title are even more perplexing; fortunately for those who purchase this record, they’ll discover that the passages where the resolutely original music becomes confounding doesn’t lead to alienation but rather fascination.