Norwegian Kalandra, this time designated as “Prog Folk” in By Norse’s press release, for the second time, welcomes winter with an EP Mørketid (“Dark time”) that matches the deep autumnal and northern Christmas mood. The release states:
A new EP — a collection of dark, reimagined songs to either set the mood or help brace for the cold months ahead.
 
Kalandra is known for blending melancholic Nordic influences with gritty guitars and ethereal melodies, crafting haunting musical landscapes rooted in raw emotion and cinematic depth. Since forming in 2011, they’ve spent over a decade shaping a sound that is uniquely their own — a sound that has resonated through their 2020 debut album The Line, their atmospheric soundtrack for the game Kingdom Two Crowns: Norse Lands, and most recently, their 2024 album A Frame of Mind.
Now, with the Mørketid EP, Kalandra continues to explore the immersive sonic world they’ve become known for. The release features four tracks — two carefully reimagined covers alongside two original compositions. The covers have been rearranged, and in some cases, translated, with a deep sense of nostalgia. Together, the songs capture the essence of the season: shorter days, moments of rest, coming together, and remembering those who are no longer with us.
 
This collection of winter songs is for everyone — regardless of what you believe, or don’t believe. May these songs be your soundtrack for finding the strength to make it through another winter.
While all tracks are beautiful and deeply moving, to me personally, the traditional Mitt Hjerte Alltid Vanker (“My Heart Always Wanders”), a Northern Christmas hymn from around 1732, is a favorite. It has been performed by many musicians — from Sámi artist Mari Boine to the German minnesingers Saltatio Mortis — usually in an acoustic style.
Kalandra, however, has a trademark approach: they weave in an abundance of nuanced, finely detailed arrangements that add a remarkable “cinematic” depth — for lack of a better word — opening up the material and making the music soar. It’s the kind of track that slowly, almost imperceptibly, draws you inward, takes seven minutes to unfold — until it ends and you suddenly wake up to the present moment.