Saturday, September 7th, 2024 – As if descending into the very catacombs of some forgotten realm, the atmosphere inside Kung Fu Necktie for Mortiis’ performance was one of anticipation for the dungeon master. A sold out crowd, robed in black, seemed like wanderers summoned to an unholy ritual. The night promised an immersive journey through the eerie, minimalist masterpiece Født Til Å Herske, Mortiis’ dungeon synth opus, performed in its entirety.
Photos + Article by @a.j.kinney
Before the dark lord Mortiis took the stage, we partook in the haunting spell work of Sombre Arcane. Like wandering bards lost in a cursed wood, they cast their minimalist synth incantations across the room. Their compositions were ethereal, a whisper of secrets from another plane. The set felt like an invocation, drawing us deeper into the mythic world that was about to unfold.
Next, Brighter Death Now shattered the tranquility with his harsh, industrial onslaught. Like a battlefield where magic meets metal, the music was a cacophonous wall of noise that left the crowd in awe, perhaps even fear. The energy from the set was that of necromancers conjuring forbidden forces—destructive, chaotic, but mesmerizing in its brutality.
And then, Mortiis himself took the stage.
With the flicker of dim lighting and the swelling of ambient drone, the dungeon master himself emerged, an eerie silhouette against the backdrop. Clad in his iconic mask, Mortiis appeared less as a performer and more as a spectral figure—a forgotten king returned to his forsaken throne. As he began to play Født Til Å Herske, the music felt like stepping through an ancient portal into a world untouched by time.
The soundscapes he crafted were primal and hypnotic, as if the air itself was saturated with the dust of forgotten tombs. The deep synth swells and the sparse, ritualistic progression of each track created an atmosphere of foreboding, as though we were traversing through long-forgotten caverns, haunted by ancient spirits.
Unlike modern concerts, there was no frenetic energy here—just the slow, deliberate march through Mortiis’ desolate soundscapes. Every track was a chapter, guiding us deeper into the uncharted depths of this grim, medieval kingdom. The absence of vocals allowed the synth tones to tell the story—an instrumental narrative that conjured images of vast, desolate ruins and endless nights.
Each note felt like a step toward some grand, unknown climax. When the final track echoed through the venue, it felt like a journey had ended—a quest fulfilled. The crowd stood in silent reverence, with every soul present bound to the magic of Mortiis’ creation.
