Eivør calls her Nordic home in the remote Faroe Islands a landscape of extremes. Sitting in the North Atlantic Ocean just above Scotland and southeast of Iceland, with a total population of about 50,000, the climate is “full of contrasts—very dark, heavy winters and bright summers.” Growing up in a small village there, of about 400 people, it’s those contrasts that have inspired Eivør’s music throughout her career. Often considered to be one of the most prolific and unique Nordic artists of her generation, Eivør has released 11 studio albums to date, crossing musical genres and always pushing the envelope of the expected. Awarded with the Nordic Council Music Price in 2021, Eivør’s musical journey continues to fascinate and has seen her perform across the globe; from Europe’s biggest festival stages to providing the soundtrack to Netflix’s hit series The Last Kingdom and the video game God of War: Ragnarök. Her forthcoming new album ENN ties back to Eivør’s Nordic roots. Most of the lyrics, sung entirely in Faroese, were penned in collaboration with the Faroese poet Marjun Syderbø Kjelnæs. Eivør calls the lyrics to the title track especially “hardcore.” The song is about war—“the wars that are going on in the world especially lately, but that have always been going on,” Eivør says, “and how to find a glimpse of light in this overwhelming darkness.” The guttural penultimate track, “Upp Úr Øskuni,” is a thrilling outlier mixing growling beatboxing with visceral throat singing (it’s certainly Eivør’s most metal moment). ENN stands out among Eivør’s discography as a bold new venture. Her debut for Season of Mist, the album leans heavier into dark electronics. Her new Prophet-5 synthesizer hardly made it out of the box before she keyed up “Hugsi Bert Um Teg”, a swooning bit of dream-pop that dances like the colors of the milky way. On a grand scale, ENN follows a cosmic arc. The title track is a symphonic, war-torn space odyssey. But the album also dwells on more earthly concerns. Lead single “Jardartra” is told from the perspective of a wounded mother earth, who calls to us with a steadily thumping bassline that’s as dark and warm as our planet’s molten core. “Come lie down in my blue embrace”, Eivør sings, reaching into her operatic register, as if beckoning us toward the light. On ENN, Eivør moves heaven and earth.