REVIEW: Eivør - Tungl
EIVØR’s Tungl is a spellbinding exploration of longing, transformation, and the courage to navigate the unknown, merging ancient Faroese traditions with industrial electronics, spectral atmospheres, and captivating vocals. For over two decades EIVØR has built a unique musical universe stretching across folk, electronics, and cinematic soundscapes, while also working on soundtracks for The Last Kingdom, God of War and God of War Ragnarök. Out on October 16th, Tungl (Faroese for “moon”) delves deeper into the shadows, offering music that is both ancient and futuristic, intimate and elemental.
Following the darker turn of her last album, Enn, Tungl takes its immersive textures further. Industrial beats, spectral vocals, organic instrumentation and Faroese influences meet contemporary production. Seven of the ten tracks are sung in Faroese, reinforcing its cultural roots but reaching beyond language. “Tungl explores the ever-changing cycles of life” EIVØR explains. Like the moon it is named after, the album takes listeners through darker passages, spotlighting resilience and transformation.
The album opens with Og mánin graet / And The Moon Cried establishing a ritualistic mood. Forceful guitar cuts through dark electronics, outstretched beats, and heavy distortion, providing a spellbinding set up. It takes its cue from the traditional Faroese chain dance, a communal singalong with rhythmic foot-stomping often associated with stories of Viking battles and bravery, linking the islands’ musical heritage with EIVØR’s adventurous contemporary sound. Her voice is a mixture of vulnerability and otherworldly intensity.
Drekafljóð / Dragon Maiden follows, with an electronic battle horn and a bass heavy groove. Its industrial rhythms propel restless vocals, occasionally reminiscent of the experimental electronics and soaring delivery of BJÖRK. Its high-strung energy echoes the song’s themes that the singer herself describes as “trusting your intuition, embracing uncertainty, and finding the courage to surrender to life's unfolding.”
Verjugarðar / Walls strikes a more complex balance between darkness and melody. Mid-paced folk arrangements underpin a memorable chorus without sacrificing the album’s shadowy atmosphere. It’s about the space between people, the people who hide behind silence and words not spoken.” The sparseness allows the longing to become a desperate plea to return to the light.
On Spøkilsir / Revenants, things become unsettling again. Soft vocals, subtle pop elements and strange atmospheric details give the song the feeling of a dream that is beautiful but not entirely comforting. The ghosts at its centre represent the things we carry from our past, including regrets, insecurities and parts of ourselves we would rather hide. Yet the song also suggests that accepting these imperfections can help us connect with others. It’s a thoughtful idea wrapped in music that feels mysterious and strangely intimate.
One of the album’s most affecting moments comes with Hinumegin / The Other Side, a slow, folk-leaning ballad that strips away much of the electronic weight, leaving space for ambient textures, distant percussion and EIVØR’s remarkable voice. The arrangement gradually builds into something cinematic, like a storm gathering far out at sea. Its restraint makes this quieter moment all the more powerful amid the album’s heavier rhythms and expansive production. From this stillness, Healer continues the album’s exploration of personal growth with a more reassuring perspective. One of the three English language tracks, it builds around a gentle, clockwork pulse, becoming a meditation on time and self-acceptance. EIVØR has described it as a conversation with her younger self, who struggled with self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy. Her vocals float above the trip-hop inspired rhythm, while the repeated lyrics offer reassurance. The song acknowledges that healing is never easy, and that honesty makes it all the more moving.
That warmth continues with Eon, where delicate piano and subtle strings create a welcome contrast to the album’s darker moments. Its gentle melody and understated vocals feel intimate, offering a brief moment of calm before Tann tú saknar / The One You Long For brings back the electronics and heavier bass. With a more contemporary pop feel, the track captures the restless nature of longing through delicate vocals, mechanical rhythms and atmospheric production. The shift from Eon’s tranquillity to this unsettled mood is particularly effective.
That tension continues on Fangað / Trapped, featuring EIVØR’s sister ELINBORG. Their voices complement each other beautifully amid haunting rhythms, prominent bass, electronic textures and organic instrumentation. Hints of throat-singing add to the track’s distinctive character, while the arrangement moves between powerful rhythms and atmospheric passages. It’s another example of how EIVØR blends diverse influences while maintaining a clear musical identity.
All these contrasting moods come together in Everyone But Me, an English language ballad co-written with composer Danny Saul, with whom EIVØR previously worked on The Last Kingdom: Destiny Is All. As the closing track, it brings the album’s themes of uncertainty, self-discovery and change into focus. It describes life as a vast ocean that we must learn to navigate, even when the journey feels frightening. The song begins quietly, allowing her voice to lead the way before shimmering synthesisers and layered vocals gradually build towards an emotional climax. Its cinematic atmosphere occasionally recalls the dreamlike music of Angelo Badalamenti and Julee Cruise, while still retaining a sense of intimacy. As the song reaches its closing moments, warm synthesisers and hopeful choral choirs create the feeling of a sunrise after a long night. It’s a genuinely powerful ending, offering no easy answers but leaving the listener with a sense that moving forward is worthwhile.
Much of Tungl’s DNA stems from EIVØR’s Faroese roots. Growing up in Syðrugøta, surrounded by the sea and unpredictable weather, shaped the album’s sense of longing. Recording with her band in a rented house in Velbastaður allowed for a more relaxed, organic process that captured their shared energy. These experiences shine through in the balance of electronic production, Faroese influences, and emotional depth, all anchored by the singer’s remarkable voice, shifting between fierce intensity and delicate fragility. Across its ten tracks, Tungl feels like a journey rather than a collection of songs. Darkness gradually gives way to tenderness, uncertainty makes room for acceptance, and moments of doubt are balanced by flashes of hope. It doesn’t try to push the darkness away; instead, it finds something beautiful within it. Adventurous, moving and often mesmerising, it is another strong statement from one of the most distinctive voices in contemporary Nordic music.
To mark the album’s release, EIVØR will play two special launch shows on 17 October in the Faroe Islands and in Iceland on 23 October. These intimate shows will be a first performance of the album before the artist heads out on an extensive international tour across North America, followed by dates throughout Europe and the UK extending into 2027.
Score: 9/10
Tungl will be released on 16th October 2026 via Nuclear Blast.
Words: Lysandre Pons
Photos: Adam Wamsley
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