Interview mit Gerhard von Einherjer

Your new album is entitled „Lifeblood“ – what does this title stand for? What would you say is your own „lifeblood“?
“Lifeblood” is about the things that continue to flow through us, even when generations come and go. Family, heritage, friendship, music, the places that make us who we are. It’s that invisible current connecting the past with the present. The title isn’t about looking backwards out of nostalgia, but recognizing that we’re part of something much larger than ourselves. As for my own lifeblood, I’d probably say creativity and curiosity. I’ve always had the need to create something, whether it’s music, lyrics or simply exploring ideas. And of course, the friendships within the band. We’ve known each other for a long time now, and that shared history is impossible to separate from EINHERJER itself. I have often thought about who I would be and what I would do if I didn’t go down this path.

Is there a song on Lifeblood that resonates with you more than the other songs? If so, why?
„Gone“ is probably the most personal one for me. It reflects on how an entire life, filled with memories, relationships and experiences, eventually fades into something almost impossible to grasp. It’s about mortality, but also about memory and what remains after we’re gone. Everybody will experience loss in their lifetime. Interestingly, the song didn’t really have a clear identity in the beginning. Musically, it felt a bit diffuse, like it was searching for its own direction. Then I wrote the opening verse, „Into the dark we go, never to return…“ and suddenly everything fell into place. Tom’s clean vocals gave the song exactly the atmosphere it had been missing, and from that point on it almost seemed to arrange itself. Those moments are rare, but incredibly satisfying when they happen.

It’s been five years between „North Star“ and „Lifeblood“, way longer than usual in your career. What happened?
Mostly life happened. Like many bands, we lost a lot of momentum during the pandemic, especially on the live front. It’s a couple of years where I felt my mind went numb. Strange times. But heck, now I’ve lived through that too. We also all have regular jobs and families to balance with the band, so sometimes things simply take longer. On the positive side, the extra time allowed us to keep refining the material instead of rushing it. Looking back, I don’t think „Lifeblood“ would have been the same album if we’d forced ourselves to finish it earlier.

What distinguishes EINHERJER from other bands of the genre is the stronger focus on groove and rhythm, sometimes combined with unusual time signatures like in “Bloodborn”. Is this a conscious choice or does it just happen naturally?
Probably both. Since I’m the drummer, rhythm naturally becomes an important part of how I write music. Now, I didn’t write that exact song, and I can only speak for myself. I’m always interested in making songs move in ways that aren’t entirely predictable, but without becoming complicated just for the sake of it. I like making songs that are “predictably unpredictable”. Changes in the music that are exactly how you want them to be, but still come as a surprise. We never sit down and decide that a song needs an odd time signature. If it serves the riff and the atmosphere, we’ll use it. If a simple flat 4 groove is what the song needs, we’re perfectly happy with that too. The song always comes first.

There’s noticeably more melodic clean singing on „Lifeblood“. Did anyone take vocal lessons or where did that development come from?
No secret vocal academy, I’m afraid. The only one of us with a formal music education is Tom, who actually went to music school as a drummer. Whether that included vocal training, I’m honestly not sure, but he’s always had a great singing voice. The increased use of clean vocals has simply been a gradual and natural development. Tom has become an increasingly important part of our vocal arrangements, and over the years we’ve become more comfortable exploring different textures. We never add clean vocals because we think we should. They have to earn their place in the song. We’ve reached a point where we’re confident enough in our identity that adding another color to the palette doesn’t make us feel like we’re losing who we are.

Your colleagues of Enslaved recently collaborated with the Storm Weather Shanty Choir. Could you imagine doing something similar with Einherjer and working with musicians from a completely different genre?
Never say never. I’m generally open to collaborations if they feel genuine. That said, we’d probably be quite selective. The collaboration should bring something meaningful to the music rather than existing as a novelty. If we found artists who shared a similar atmosphere or emotional language, even if they came from a completely different genre, I’d certainly be interested. Whether it actually happens is another matter. We’re all balancing the band with full-time jobs and everyday life, so time is probably our biggest limitation. If we’re going to invest that time, it has to be for something we truly believe in.

EINHERJER’s lyrics are sometimes in English, sometimes in Norwegian. After some entirely Norwegian albums, English seems to dominate again. How do you decide which language to use?
It’s honestly decided one song at a time. Sometimes a lyric begins with a single line that I really like, and if that line comes naturally in English or Norwegian, that’s usually the language the rest of the lyric will be written in. Other times, it feels as if the melody itself arrives with a language attached to it. Norwegian has a certain rhythm and intimacy that’s difficult to translate, especially when dealing with local history or deeply rooted cultural themes. English, on the other hand, allows us to communicate with listeners all over the world. In the end, we simply use whichever language feels most natural for that particular song.

When you write in Norwegian, you use your west coast dialect. What makes it so unique?
It’s simply the language we think and dream in. Writing in dialect removes a layer of translation. The words feel more honest because they belong to the landscape and the people I grew up around. The west coast dialects also have a certain roughness and musicality that suits the atmosphere we’re trying to create. Grim vocals, with west coast dialect, can be a perfect rhythmic instrument. They carry the sound of the coast in them. In the early days, we also wrote a few songs in standard Norwegian (Bokmål), but today that would be unthinkable. The dialect has become an essential part of our identity. It doesn’t just shape how the lyrics sound, it shapes how they feel.

Speaking of the norwegian west coast, you shot the music videos for „Lifeblood“ in some stunning locations, especially „Dei Så Ser“. Where exactly did you film those scenes?
Almost everything was filmed around our home region on Norway’s west coast. The scenes for Dei Så Ser were filmed at Hagland, literally just a stone’s throw from where we live. That’s important to us because these places don’t just serve as beautiful backdrops, they’re part of our identity. We didn’t have to travel across the country to find the atmosphere we wanted. It’s right outside our doorstep, and I think that authenticity comes across in the finished video.

Are there any locations or shooting days that stand out as your favourites?
The Dei Så Ser shoot is definitely among my favourites. The weather, the light and the landscape all came together perfectly. But it wasn’t just about finding a beautiful location. There’s something special about standing in a place where people have lived and walked for thousands of years. That part of the west coast has an incredible sense of continuity. Not far from where we filmed, archaeologists discovered the remains of the so-called Bleivik Man, who lived around 8,000 years ago. Moments like that remind you that we’re only the latest chapter in a much longer story. Some of my favourite memories aren’t necessarily from the biggest productions, though. They’re the days where a handful of friends are standing on a windy cliff somewhere on the west coast, staring into the horizon, as we often do, carrying cameras and equipment, wondering if it’s going to start raining in the next five minutes. That’s a very Norwegian way of making music videos.

Your band’s name was taken directly from Norse mythology. How connected do you feel to that part of your cultural and religious heritage?
Very connected culturally, less so religiously. Norse mythology is an important part of the stories that shaped Scandinavia, and understanding those stories helps us understand ourselves. I don’t see mythology as something locked away in museums. It’s part of our cultural vocabulary, whether we realise it or not. Living on Norway’s west coast, I also feel a strong connection to the landscape itself. In a Norse sense, it’s almost a spiritual feeling. Not because I believe the land is magical, but because it has been home to countless generations before us. The people who lived here, worked here and were eventually laid to rest here are part of the same story we are. If you want to look at it scientifically, the atoms that once made up those people are still all around us, woven into the world we live in today. I find something profoundly humbling in that thought.

Has your perspective on Norse mythology changed?
I think we’ve become less interested in simply retelling myths and more interested in what those stories reveal about the people who created them. The myths tell us about their fears, their hopes, what they admired, and how they tried to make sense of a world that was unpredictable and unforgiving. The mythology itself hasn’t become less fascinating. If anything, it’s become richer because we’ve learned to look beyond the gods and monsters and focus on the very human questions beneath them. That’s where I think the stories become timeless.

What do you think about Norse mythology and neo-paganism becoming more mainstream?
I think it’s natural that people become curious about their cultural roots. At the same time, mythology belongs to everyone, not to any particular ideology or movement. It’s important not to confuse an interest in history and culture with politics. Those are very different things. For us it’s always been about storytelling, identity and history rather than promoting any belief system.

Looking back on more than thirty years of EINHERJER, what would you do differently, and what was exactly the right decision?
I’d probably worry less about things that felt incredibly important when we were twenty-something. What we absolutely got right was staying true to ourselves. We’ve always done exactly what we wanted to do, whether that was writing songs in Norwegian, taking a four-year break, or following musical ideas that didn’t necessarily fit expectations. We’ve never chased trends or tried to become another band. That may not always be the fastest route, but it allows you to look back more than thirty years later and still recognize yourself in your own music. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Based on everything you’ve experienced, what advice would you give young and aspiring bands?
Write music because you genuinely have something you want to express, not because you’re trying to fit into whatever scene happens to be popular. Also, learn to enjoy the process. Most bands won’t become huge, but if you enjoy writing songs, rehearsing with friends, and playing live, you’ll already have something valuable that success can’t really measure.

In which direction will EINHERJER’s ship sail next?
Right now we’re looking forward to bringing „Lifeblood“ onto the stage and letting the songs find their own life in front of an audience. Beyond that, we honestly don’t plan too far ahead. Experience has taught us that the best ideas usually appear when you’re busy doing something else.

To wrap up the interview, here’s the traditional Metal1-Brainstorming Challenge:
Pagan metal in 2026: Alive and still evolving.
Pineapple on pizza: Preposterous!
Your ultimate pet peeve: People walking slowly and side by side through narrow halls.
The 1990s: Next best thing, after the 80’s.
EINHERJER in 10 years: If we’re still alive in 10 years, we will still exist in one form or another.

Publiziert am 7. August 2026 von Janine Kasper