Norway, 2009, Nordic folk / dark folk / dark ambient
Wardruna – Runaljod – gap var Ginnunga: What follows has nothing to do with the elder futhark but rather my thoughts and feelings as I interpreted the music while listening without interruption or distraction.
The ancient horns blow through Ginnungagap, the primordial void, heralding the birth of Yggdrasil, the World-Tree, from which spring the roots that will one day connect all worlds. Rain comes, a sprinkling of life-giving water to coax the sapling from the rich soil of nothingness. The universe’s potential is bound up in Yggdrasil’s seed. Accompanying the rain and thunder is the chorus of the fated Powers, adding their voices to this cosmic birth. Drums sound steadily through what is swiftly becoming a vanishing void–and time is born. Creation awakens. The giants sing as they walk out on the World-Tree’s young, limber branches to see what there is.
The stars sing back to the giants, revealing a universe of extremes, both hot and cold. The music of the spheres begins, and the giants are content to sit and listen to this new world awhile, both out of curiosity and out of fear. It is in this quiet that the giants and the gods first become aware of each other. A single line of wavering tension is all that separates them.
The gods see how things can be, and they take counsel. Only the giants stand in their way. The tree-nourishing rain has fallen to such an extent that rivers flow through the deep and down the bark of Yggdrasil as the World-Tree grows stronger, though still young. When the first rains finally stop, the gods march to war.
The giants, however, are made of the bones of Creation and are not so easily overcome. The struggle begins, but neither is the master. The combatants are obliged to come to a compromise. Some of the gods go to live among the giants, and some giants come to live with the gods as a seal on their peace. Loki enters the picture. The ancient horns blow once more heralding the coming of a new age. Yggdrasil’s branches have grown strong. The pathways among the worlds stabilize. The time is ripe for man’s arrival.