GARMARNA VENGEANCE

GARMARNA: VENGEANCE

Lyrics in Swedish and English

English translations by Alistair Cochrane -
All texts traditional except as noted.

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Hope you have a cable connection! So worth it!

OVERVIEW:

A true breakthrough record for the entire genre of Nordic music. Garmarna have crafted a masterpiece which brilliantly fuses the ancient with the modern, traditional murder ballads with rock and trip-hop production techniques, the transcendent with the subterranean.

Vocalist Emma Härdelin's work on Vengeance is sure to earn her international recognition as one of the most compelling female voices on the planet. She delivers Swedish medieval songs about evil spells, deceit and violence with sweet, sensuous seduction. The rest of the band have risen to the task of providing real substance behind The Voice. Recorded with HDCD processing, the production and sound quality are breathtaking.

If you've been feeling at all cynical about the state of modern "popular" music, one listen to Vengeance will restore your faith. The second listen will convince you to help tell the rest of the world about this amazing record.

MY PERSONAL REVIEW:

I've purchased almost every Garmarna album over the last few years, and Vengeance remains my personal favorite. I listen to it a few times weekly, at least. I love all of Vengeance, but my favorite tracks would have to be 7, 8, and 4 (in that order) and I often re-play them once they've concluded (Though, to be fair, the most popular track in the overall publics eye is the first, Vulture). Make sure to read the lyrics as you listen, and allow yourself to go back to a time and place in Old World Sweden. Listening, it is hard not to. Vengeance is an album that, if listened to right, can't help but grow on you...

OTHERS REVIEWS:

"Once you’ve lifted your jaw off the floor at the way ancient and modern fit seamlessly together, you’ll find yourself completely hypnotized." –- Wired

"Playing a unique blend of Scandinavian folk music mixed with heavy guitar and electronic weirdness, they groove and drone, and trance out, taking the listener about eight levels deeper into the subconscious than any other band I’ve heard in years." –- Playboy

"…an unforgettable listening experience." -- Billboard, Spotlight review (May 1999)

"…potent and beautiful: Garmarna proves the frozen tundra is more fertile than we think." -- Fortune Magazine (July 1999)

"Vengeance is a terrific example of what modern music based on indigenous sources can be: it's too future-forward to get bogged down in historical reverence, but it's way more grounded in its culture than the usual techno dressed up with a few samples of authentic sounds." -- CMJ New Music Monthly, "best new music" (July 1999)

"Swedish folk futurists Garmarna have an otherworldly ability to meld ancient impulses, punk-rock passion and pulsating electronic backbone." -- Minneapolis Star Tribune

"Emma Härdelin's unclouded voice is the center of Garmarna's sonic storm." -- Request Magazine, "Great Unknowns" (August 1999)

"Raspy strings and keening distortion make for twisted medieval electronica that will leave the most fearless ravers speechless." -- Request Magazine (July 1999)

"Vengeance is an album destined to be one of the year's best in every genre it crosses." -- Twin Cities ReVue (April 1999)

"The astonishing sound of Garmarna proves that something is rockin' in the state of Sweden." -- Charles M. Young, Allmusic Zine

"To the uninitiated, I describe Garmarna as Beowulf meets Queensrÿche meets Joni Mitchell meets Björk. Theirs is a music that is expansive, incorporating elements of folk, techno and rock -- they've taken everything from the past millennium to make music for the next, in a genre-resistant Manifest Destiny banquet for the ears and soul." -- Carole Alguire, Twin Cities Performing Arts Spectator

"This record will heat the tundra hotter than the gates of Hades." –- George Scarlett, VP and Director, Product and Vendor Management, Tower Records

1. Gamen \| Vulture LISTEN HERE
Konung Vallemo var en så viser man han gifte sin dotter på främmande land Den ena dagen stod hon brud den andra dagen i bojor och järn Och varför ska ni binda mig Ty du var ej mö när du kom till mig Och hade jag mig en trogen vän som bore de ord till min fader ikväll Och fram kom där den gamla Gam och nog så skulle jag förat fort fram Å hade jag något till ungarna mina Jag skulle vara där inom ett par timmar Lägg dina ungar vid mitt bröst så får de äta så mycket som dom lyster Å här sitter du konung Vallemo Imorgon ska din dotter på brinnande bål Och far din väg du gamla Gam Min dotter hon fick en så hederlig man Å vill ni ej de orden tro så se hennes nyckel uti min klo Konung Vallemo gick åt stallet in och Blacken så lägger han sadeln uppå Å när han kom till grevens gård så gnägga Blacken murarna ifrå Och Blacken lyfte upp sin fot den slog han i Grevens hjärterot Så satte hon på Blackens bak så rider hon hem uti god mak	King Vallemo was a wise old man. He married off his daughter in a foreign land. One day she stood in her bridal gown, The next in bands of iron bound. "And why do you do this to me?" "For you were no maiden when you came to me." "Oh had I a trusty friend and true To carry these words to my father now!" Then the old vulture came to her: "Let me be your speedy messenger. "If I could get food for my young from you, I could be there in an hour or two." "Then lay your young at my breast, if you will, So that while you are gone they may eat their fill." "King Vallemo, here you sit free from sorrow. Your daughter will burn at the stake tomorrow." "Fly away, old vulture, as quick as you can - My daughter has married an honest man." "If you won't believe what you hear from me Look here at my claw, I am carrying her key. "King Vallemo into the stable strode, Saddled his black horse, and off he rode. And when they came to the foreign lord's hall The black horse whinnied high up on the wall. The black horse lifted his mighty foot And struck the lord in his cruel heart's root. Then the king and his daughter sat on the black steed And rode back home at a gentle speed.
2. Euchari LISTEN HERE
O Euchari in leta via Solens värme dröp i dig som doften av balsam Solens värme dröp i mig som doften av balsam Allt som rör sig andas lugnt, driver över marken Solens värme dröp i dig som doften av balsam O Euchari in leta via Dina händer söker mig som brinner av längtan Mina händer söker dig som brinner av längtan Allt som rör sig andas lugnt, driver över marken Dina händer söker mig som brinner av längtan O Euchari in leta via	O Euchari In leta via The sun's warmth trickled into you Like the fragrance of balm. The sun's warmth trickled into me Like the fragrance of balm. All moving things breathe steadily Sweeping across the ground The sun's warmth trickled into you Like the fragrance of balm. O Euchari In leta via Your hands reach out for me In the heat of our longing. My hands reach out for you In the heat of our longing. All moving things breathe heavily Sweeping across the ground. Your hands reach out for me In the heat of our longing. O Euchari In leta via
3. Halling Jåron LISTEN HERE
Halling Jåron halling Jåron Låg med gutan fjåron för fjåron Det tosse Jåron var lite te näring Ligge med gutan fjäring fe fjäring	Jåron, Jåron, the lassie from Halling, Lay with the lads both morning and evening Half crazy Jåron, tiny and wizened, Lying with the lads nineteen to the dozen.
4. Vedergällningen \| Vengeance LISTEN HERE
Jag blev född förr än tuppen gol -Mina stigar de ligga så vida Min moder blev död innan upp rann sol -Själv måste hon sorgen förbida Min fader drager så vitt om land Så ond en styvmoder han på fann Först skapte hon mig i nåler och sade jag skulle tråna Så skapte hon mig i kniver och sade jag skulle icke trivas Så skapte hon mig i saxer och sade jag skulle icke växa Så skapte hon mig i ulven grå och sade jag skulle åt skogen gå Hon sade jag skulle ej få bot Förrän jag druckit min broders blod Så lade jag mig under lida där styvmodern min skulle framrida Så lade jag mig under spånge Där min styvmoder skulle framgånga Där tager jag till med mäste Min styvmoder utav häste Så tog jag till med harme hennes foster ur hennes barme När jag hade druckit min broders blod Så blev jag en riddare bold och god	Before the cock crew I was born - Far are the paths that I follow - My mother was dead before the dawn - Long, long she awaited her sorrow - My father travelled the country round, An ill stepmother to me he found. Into a needle she conjured me And said that longing would torture me And then she turned me into a knife And said I would suffer all my life. She turned me into a pair of shears And said I'd be stunted all my years. A grey wolf then she made of me, And said no good would come of me. Under this curse I was to suffer Till I drank the blood of my own brother. So then I lay in hiding Till my stepmother came riding. By the bridgehead I lay watching Till I saw her horse approaching. And as she passed I caught her And down from her horse I brought her. In vengeance cruel and bloody I took the child from her body. And when I had drunk my brother's blood, I became a knight, gallant and good.
5. Nio år \| Nine Years LISTEN HERE
Första gåvan hon av styvmodern fick Nio år ska du gå med fostret ditt Kari hon frågte till herr Peder så Hur länge ska en kvinna med fostret gå Mig väcker så lönneliga sorgen Fyrtio veckor är det förvisst Så gick Maria med Jesu Krist När som det led till det nionde år Då ville hon hem till sin fader gå Herr Peder han sade till småsvenner så Gåen och sadlen gångaren grå Kören så vackert genom den by Att I ej väcken hundar och gören stort gny Kören så vackert över den bro Att I ej väcken människor och gören oro När som hon kom till sin faders gård Ute för henne fadern månd stå Välis mig välis mig vad jag nu ser Nu ser jag min dotter hemkomma till mig Kära min fader I gläds ej åt mig Det är ej stor glädje som följa med mig Härifrån for jag då jag var ung Nu kommer jag igen nu är jag så tung Härifrån for jag då jag var mö Nu kommer jag igen nu ska jag och dö	The very first gift that her stepmother gave: "Nine years you shall bear your unborn babe." Kari has gone to Lord Peder's room: "How long must a woman bear a child in her womb?" - In secret my sorrows wake me - "Forty weeks with child she must go - So long bore Mary Our Lord long ago." When nine long years had almost passed, She longed to return to her father at last. Herr Peder has called for his good grey steed And bidden his young men ride with speed: "Pass very gently o'er the bridge as you ride, In case men be roused from their beds in the night." "Pass very gently through the village streets, In case barking dogs waken men from their sleep. When that she came to her father's home, Before her stood her father alone. "Glad is my heart at this that I see, I see that my daughter has come home to me." "Father dear, this is no time for glee, Rejoicing is not what I bring with me. "Once I departed, a brisk young maid, And now I am returning, as heavy as lead "When I departed a maiden was I - And now I am returning, now I must die."
6. Sorgsen ton \| Woeful Tones LISTEN HERE (or Stomped Bread as named on the NorthSide CD)
Med sorgsen ton jag sjunga vill Om ett förfärligt under Du som det hör märk noga till Och minns det alla stunder Vid Gibbau by vid Penne strand I Pommern i det tyska land sig denna saken händer En fattig bonde bodde där och barn han hade många Som gjorde honom stort besvär om bröd han nödgas gånga Den äldsta dottern av sin far samt mor och syskon avsked tar och ger sig ut att tjäna En tid därefter hände sig att fadern hennes dödde och modern som sig ömkelig på käpp och krycka stödde bad dottern som var tämligt rik till graven hjälpa faderns lik som barnslig plikt befaller Hon svarte det går mig ej an Ej för mig skuld det bringar Begraven hur i vill och kan Men jag mitt mynt ej skingrar Hur jag går klädder var man ser Stor sak vad grav man gubben ger Ej därom någon sköter Då hennes fru slik hårdhet såg Hon mera ädelt tänkte Hon var barmhärtig i sin håg Hon mat och pengar skänkte Dess fru gav henne tvenne bröd att ge sin mor som led stor nöd och sådan hjälp behövde När hon ett stycke hade gått och harmsen brödet burit Sin frus barmhärtighet försmått och argt på modern svurit kom hon där vägen oren var tänk vad för medel då hon tar att fina skorna spara Där fanns ej sten där fanns ej spång varpå hon kunde kliva Gå kring blev vägen alltför lång ej vill hon smutsig bliva Då lägger hon de bröden så att hon på dem kund torrskodd gå men straffet resan stäckte Dess fötter fastnar genast kvar då hon på brödet träder På benen hon förgäves drar hon bannar svär och hädar Ty som en stor och jordfast sten orörlig står ock hennes ben i marken synes fasta Hon ropar då jag usla barn försmått min moder snälla har själv mig snärjt i syndens garn det får jag nu umgälla Om hjälp hon tigger varje man de bjuda till men ingen kan dess fot från marken röra Ej kunde hon de sista ord med bruten röst framföra förrän den eljest fasta jord begynte sig att röra Hon knäppte sina händer ihop och sjönk så neder i en grop som henne strax betäckte I människor betänken er högfärden låten fara Och girigheten som man ser är och en farlig snara Låt pigans ofärd varna er från synd och flärd allt mer och mer och från högfärdig levnad	In woeful tones I mean to tell A tale of dread and wonder Whoever hears it, listen well, And on its meaning ponder. In Gibbau, by the Penne sea, In Pomerania, in Germany, These strange events unfolded. A farmer lived in poverty there Whose children were so many That he was driven in despair To beg for food and money. The eldest daughter bade adieu To sisters, brothers and parents too, To earn a servant's wages. Some time later her father's soul This earthly life departed. Her mother, who was lame and old, By stick and crutch supported, Upon her wealthy daughter called For help with the father's funeral, As is a daughter's duty. "Why come to me?" the daughter said "Give him a pauper's burial! I'll waste no money on the dead, Nor let my mind be troubled. Everyone sees the clothes I wear, But what does anybody care What grave the old man lies in?" Such words of cruelty dismayed Her nobler-hearted mistress. She sent both money and food to aid The family in her kindness. The mistress gave two new-baked loaves And bade the daughter carry those Home to her needy mother. When she had gone a little way, Carrying the bread in anger, Despising her mistress's charity And cursing her starving mother, She came to a mud patch damp and deep - And this is what she did to keep Her fine new shoes unsullied: No stone nor plank nor bridge was there To help her on her journey. To leave her path she did not care - That way was long and dirty. The loaves of bread she threw straight down As stepping-stones to drier ground But this she soon regretted. Her feet stuck fast immediately When on the bread they landed. In vain she tried to pull them free, She cursed and swore and ranted. For like a stone stuck in the ground Her legs sank helpless deeper down - She could not even move them. She cries aloud, "Alas that I spurned The pleas of my kind old mother! This is the punishment I`ve earned, A wretched, sinful daughter!" Each passer-by for help she begs, But none can free her earthbound legs However hard they struggle. She had not spoken her last words In a voice trembling with terror Before the ground she stood on stirred And opened wide beneath her. In silent prayer her hands she clasped And sank until the earth at last All trace of her had covered. All you who hear this tale, take care, Lest your own pride betray you. Remember likewise to beware The tricks that greed can play you. Let this maid's fate warn everyone The sin of luxury to shun And vain, conceited living.
7. Herr Holkin LISTEN HERE
Herr Holkin han haver lockat mig -villa rosor mig lova att jag skulle giva honom min tro -med de andra de sova där leker han en afton Och haver herr Holkin lockat dig så ska du mer aldrig bo hos mig Och drottningen ville sina tärnor lära allt huru de skulle försvara sin ära Ack om jag hade mig en fulltrogen vän som budena bar till herr Holkin ikväll Falska tärnan var så snar att svara och vill ingen ann' skall jag budena bära Och när hon kom till Holkins gård ute för henne herr Holkin står Liten Kerstin haver mig till dig sänt hon bad ni skulle rida till henne ikväll Hon haver eder fött en dotter hon är långt svartare än svartaste jord Och skänk henne dessa vinflaskor in bed henne dricka all sorg ur sitt sinn Bed henne varken sörja eller kvida imorgon så vill jag till henne rida Falska tärnan gångar till sjöastrand Där drack hon ur vinet och tömde i vann' Herr Holkin han skänkte de vann'flaskor in ty aldrig så vill han till eder rida Herr Holkin han var ej långt därifrån han hörde väl efter hur talet skull gå Kersti vänd dig ej bort från mig Jag har väl ej ämnat att svika dig Falska tärnan skall levande sättas i jord som velat förråda så menlöst blod	"Herr Holkin has my favour won - Promise me wild roses - To pledge my heart to him alone." - While the others are asleep he's at play in the evening - "And if Herr Holkin has won your heart, From me and my home you must depart." And the queen would all her maidens warn And teach them to keep their honour from harm "Oh had I a trusty friend and true To carry word to Herr Holkin now!" The falsest maid was quick to speak: "It's I am the messenger you seek." And when she came to Herr Holkin's home, Before her stood Holkin all alone. "I'm sent by Kerstin to you to say You must ride to her ere the close of day. "She has born a daughter to you today, And she is blacker than the blackest clay." "Then give to her these bottles of wine To drink all sorrow away from her mind. "Tell her no more to grieve or sorrow, And I will ride to her tomorrow." Then the wine from the bottles this false maid drank And filled them with water by the riverbank. "This water is a token Herr Holkin sent That he never will ride to you again." Herr Holkin stood not far away And heard every word that this maiden did say. "O Kerstin, don't turn away from me. Untrue to you I will never be." "Let the false maid be buried alive in the clay, - Promise me wild roses - For an innocent heart she tried to betray." - While the others are asleep he's at play in the evening
8. Bläck \| Ink LISTEN HERE
Ge mig hit lite bäck och en penna Jag vill rekommendera ett brev Du skall alltid få se och besinna Att jag håller ingen kärare än dig Förr skall hälleberget rämna såsom is Förr skall solen borttappa sitt sken Förr skall skogen bli förvandlad till en duva Innan jag dig min vän överger Förr så spelade jag på guldtärning Förr så spelade jag på klaver I det samma så övergav mig sorgen Jag skall aldrig borttappa dig mer Förr skall hälleberget rämna såsom is Förr skall solen borttappa sitt sken Förr skall skogen bli förvandlad till en duva Innan jag dig min vän överger	Bring to me pen and ink and some paper, I´ve a letter I want to write to you. You will find there is none I hold dearer, I will always be constant and true. For the rocks will split and shatter just like ice, And the sun in the heavens cease to shine, And the forest will turn into a white dove, Ere, my dear, you and I will parted be. All my hours at the dice I would squander, All my hours playing music in vain. When I met you I pined away no longer, Now I never will lose you again. For the rocks will split and shatter just like ice, And the sun in the heavens cease to shine, And the forest will turn into a white dove, Ere, my dear, you and I will parted be.

The Official Garmarna Site: Garmarna.com
Within the US, buy this CD here: Northside
Most of the information on this site is from Northside.