Lamp of Murmuur remains, in many ways, a mystery.
A songwriter simply dubbing the name “M.” writes and records everything. To this day, even in the Metal Archives, a single letter sits beneath the “Members” tab.
Despite a live debut in 2021, his US performances were few and far between, comprised mostly of one-off shows and festival performances (I caught the set at Hell’s Heroes in 2024 – phenomenal, I’ll add); however, that changed this past fall when M. and his live crew trekked across North America with Blackbraid and Dödsrit for his first large-scale tour in the States.
While yes, the above does add to the mystique of the Lamp of Murmuur project, the music remains a mystery, too. And that’s more so what I’ll focus on here.
Lamp really made waves back in 2020 with Heir of Ecliptical Romanticism, a record much in the vein of rawer ‘90s Norwegian black metal with a dose of Dead Can Dance, featuring superbly catchy melodies and synths. M. leaned even more into the Dead Can Dance realm in 2021 with his finest release to date, Submission and Slavery, a goth rock/black metal blend. Nonetheless, a return to a heavily ‘90s Norwegian sound was ushered in in 2023, with nods to the legendary Immortal and At the Heart of Winter on Saturnian Bloodstorm. So, while it does indeed remain a mystery as to which depths of music Lamp of Murmuur decides to descend, his roots seem to hold time and time again.
The project’s newest release, The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy, certainly is no different in terms of pulling from the threads of yesteryear. The first single, “Forest of Hallucinations,” seemed to foretell an Old Man’s Child influence was around the bend, and while true at times, M. seems to mesh pretty much everything from the band’s past into one. Sure, “Forest..” definitely captures the essence of In Defiance of Existence more than anything in a more granular sense, but the Dimmu Borgir symphonic side shines through, too. M. also finds a lot of texture in the galloping Immortal triplets overlaying his signature synths, but this time, it sounds more intentionally cinematic than it has in the past. On “Hategate (The Dream Master’s Realm),” he yet again leans heavily into the goth/post punk world with a Dead Can Dance-ish conclusion backed by some deep clean vocals hummed along to a heavy dose of even more synths and lead guitar work, all making for a nice throwback to his Submission and Slavery sound. But, again, this alludes to a larger sonic story arc at play.
While “Reincarnation of the Witch” is a more meat-and-potatoes crockpot of traditional symphonic black metal, aside from the clean tone arpeggios on the backend, side B is where things really start to pick up. A trio of “The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy” tracks are some of M.’s best works, comprised of some of his best moments. “The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy, Pt. I – Moondance” sounds like a mashup of Killing Joke’s “Love Like Blood” and Old Man’s Child’s “Agony of Fallen Grace.” The song’s climax hits with clean leads built up by rapid-fire blast beats and haunting keys that sound like they could be dropped right into a David Lynch film.
Then, “The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy, Pt. II – Twilight Orgasm” seems to pay homage to Lamp’s classic rock influences. That guitar tone is reminiscent of David Gilmour’s ‘70s run. Lamp of Murmuur, for the first time, steers away from music made for nighttime rituals for tunes tailored for nighttime drives. No necro vocals, just a clear-cut goth/post punk composition. Moreover, its most significant accomplishment is not sounding too far out of left field. The songwriting up until this point allows these moments to feel like a natural progression into uncharted territory, if this could even be considered uncharted territory based on his past. Despite minimal vocals at all, it’s probably my favorite track on the album.
The conclusion to the trilogy, “The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy, Pt. III – The Fall” begins with a trance-inducing solo. And whether you admire M.’s works or not, you should objectively appreciate the musicianship. Speaking of objectivity, while it might not live up to the prior parts, part three eloquently reintroduces the black metal side back into the mix before a beautiful sendoff on The National-influenced “A Brute Angel’s Sorrow.” Again, it’s all deep, clean vocals here. The acoustic guitars aren’t too overshadowed by the keys and chimes. A piece of the larger picture, it’s a perfect ending. As mysteriously as the album started, it drifts off as such.
Before I go any further: Trust me. I understand listening to Immortal rather than Immortal worship. I understand listening to Dimmu Borgir rather than Dimmu Borgir worship. I understand listening to Dead Can Dance rather than Dead Can Dance worship. And, sure, there’s a sub-sub-sub-genre for everything. So, what Lamp is doing isn’t necessarily all that novel. But I’ll also say this: It is incredibly easy for such genre-blending to fail, fall, and splatter. Here, that’s far from the case.
Even for die-hard black metal devotees, there’s a dash of The Cure and Joy Division in the sorrowful music you hold so dear, if not in the sound itself, then certainly in spirit. While M. may stray from what some would call trve, the execution is, for lack of a better word, impeccable.
So, ask yourself, especially if you’re an unbeliever, what is there not to appreciate if not the darkness? Because here, darkness is all you’ll find. There is no light, and that’s precisely why it burns so brightly.
Call it what you want, but around these parts, The Dreaming Prince in Ecstasy is considered another stellar, mysterious chapter in the deservingly upwards-trending career of M. and Lamp of Murmuur.
