Album Review: Tung Ener by Dragesekstetten – A Brass-Band Extravaganza That’ll Tickle Your Ears
If you’ve ever wondered what happens when a brass band decides to tackle everything from Disney classics to Swedish folk tunes, then Tung Ener by Dragesekstetten is your golden ticket. Released in 2008 under the Bergen Digital Studio label, this album feels like an eclectic mixtape made by someone who couldn’t decide if they were going for chill vibes or full-on theatrical bombast—and honestly? We’re here for it.
The genres are all over the place—easy listening, pop, classical, even military marches—but somehow, it works. Like that one friend who insists on wearing mismatched socks and still pulls off "cool." The style leans heavily into brass band territory, with Torstein Røed blowing his trumpet (and cornet) like there’s no tomorrow, while Stein Aarø pounds away at the drums as though he's trying to wake up Norway itself. And let’s not forget Nils Eivind Nikolaisen pulling double duty as both conductor and producer—he’s basically the MVP of this whole shebang.
Now, onto the tracks. With a whopping 34 songs crammed into one album, you’d think some would get lost in the shuffle. But oh no, two tracks stood out so hard I had to rewind multiple times just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
First up: "Over the Rainbow." Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard this Judy Garland classic more times than we can count, but trust me when I say Dragesekstetten gives it a fresh coat of paint. Or maybe a shiny brass polish? Hans Morten Daae’s French horn adds this dreamy, almost melancholic vibe that makes you feel like Dorothy herself wandered into a Norwegian fjord instead of Oz. It’s cozy yet bittersweet, kinda like eating waffles in the rain. You won’t expect to love it until suddenly—you do.
Then there’s "Can Can," which is exactly what you’d hope for: chaotic, energetic, and slightly unhinged. Trond Iversen’s trombone solo deserves its own parade, and Tore Grøhn’s tuba work will have your feet tapping faster than you can say “oompah.” This track doesn’t take itself too seriously—it’s fun, flirty, and has zero chill. Perfect for hyping yourself up before doing something mildly terrifying, like asking your crush out or finally cleaning out that junk drawer.
One thing worth mentioning is how killer the artwork is, courtesy of Mona Bruvik. It sets the tone perfectly—a blend of whimsy and sophistication that mirrors the music inside. Plus, props to Gunnar Herleif Nilsen for mixing this beast without losing any of the lively charm these instruments bring to the table.
So, where does that leave us? Well, Tung Ener isn’t gonna change your life or anything, but it’s the kind of album that sneaks up on you. One minute you’re casually listening, and the next, you’re humming along to Swedish polkas while pretending you’re starring in your own musical. Weird flex, but okay.
Final thought: If aliens ever invade Earth and demand proof that humans know how to party AND cry simultaneously, hand them this album. They might just leave us alone out of sheer confusion.
