wersja winylowa:
2 x 180 gram (engraved) vinyl (1250 black), a thick (350gsm) matte varnished gatefold sleeve, black poly-lined disco bags, and protective PVC outer sleeve


It all happened in a haze. I am not sure everyone was prepared to obey the
summons and forsake the shore in order to be pulled under by the loudness of
sound. Yet the ethos on that crisp October night was clear in its wording:
Drone Activity.
Upon entering the old fish-warehouse, now converted into an activity hall,
on the new Oslo waterfront, the security guards barely cared to check our
tickets. Even mammoths would have been able to hide in this enormous dark
space, illuminated by a few logos and stalls of sugary drinks, about to
disappear in a sea of smoke.
Disappearance comes in many shapes in the age of extinction. Following the
Danish noise act Damien Dubrovnik, Ulver started out in a subtle manner,
carefully examining the territory, vast and waste. Screeching sounds echoed
distant roars from the approaching edge as snowflakes pierced the air with
ferocious speed. Where to go from there?
A retreat into the sunken paradise. Half-buried misty temples, giant
creatures and vaguely prehistoric figures emerged as depth and time
intertwined, from the ancient Atlantis to the northernmost seas.
We stayed there for 90 minutes, of which 70 have been meticulously mixed and
mastered for this release. All of them are new sounds. Darker and more dire,
yet containing the vibe of their previous semi-improvisatory sessions,
documented and catalogued on the "Zodiac" album, ATGCLVLSSCAP (2016).
If that Zodiac album was a free-form Ulver interpreting the signs in the
stars, Drone Activity stares into the abyss, documenting those moments after
the last rays of sun speckle the surface and careless subterranean streams
s.......
more

wersja winylowa:
2 x 180 gram (engraved) vinyl (1250 black), a thick (350gsm) matte varnished gatefold sleeve, black poly-lined disco bags, and protective PVC outer sleeve


It all happened in a haze. I am not sure everyone was prepared to obey the
summons and forsake the shore in order to be pulled under by the loudness of
sound. Yet the ethos on that crisp October night was clear in its wording:
Drone Activity.
Upon entering the old fish-warehouse, now converted into an activity hall,
on the new Oslo waterfront, the security guards barely cared to check our
tickets. Even mammoths would have been able to hide in this enormous dark
space, illuminated by a few logos and stalls of sugary drinks, about to
disappear in a sea of smoke.
Disappearance comes in many shapes in the age of extinction. Following the
Danish noise act Damien Dubrovnik, Ulver started out in a subtle manner,
carefully examining the territory, vast and waste. Screeching sounds echoed
distant roars from the approaching edge as snowflakes pierced the air with
ferocious speed. Where to go from there?
A retreat into the sunken paradise. Half-buried misty temples, giant
creatures and vaguely prehistoric figures emerged as depth and time
intertwined, from the ancient Atlantis to the northernmost seas.
We stayed there for 90 minutes, of which 70 have been meticulously mixed and
mastered for this release. All of them are new sounds. Darker and more dire,
yet containing the vibe of their previous semi-improvisatory sessions,
documented and catalogued on the "Zodiac" album, ATGCLVLSSCAP (2016).
If that Zodiac album was a free-form Ulver interpreting the signs in the
stars, Drone Activity stares into the abyss, documenting those moments after
the last rays of sun speckle the surface and careless subterranean streams
s.......
more