Working together through collective improvisation, Rún bring together ideas and visions, finding their sound organically, allowing the band to work together as a whole to pull their work together. Rún is probably best described by the band as the meaning of the word, "[it] can mean secret, mystery, or love, or perhaps some elusive combination of the three," with each note, path, and trajectory being meaningful in its own right for not only the song but the album. And despite the differing pathways, everything makes its way to the ultimate whole, helping to create something stronger than it was before, and bigger than it is on paper. The trio's varied background helps to flesh out the expanse of Rún, and their passion and trust with each other is evident in the directions the album is allowed to take. These varied directions keep the album fresh and help to show Rún's ability to express themselves through a number of forms, be it industrial, neo-folk, electronica, and anything in between. Beginning with "Paidir Poball (Pupil)," Rún strongly grabs the listener with guitars, electronics, and chants before the drums kick in and further the hypnotization. What feels simple is layered with textures and feelings that bring the track and album to an unexpected level rather quickly, making a head-nodding "rock" song into a bit of self examination. However, this doesn't stay in this shoegazey, Telescopes-esque realm, and Rún allows the album to go off where it needs to. Songs like "Your Death My Body" and "Terror Moon" are full of vigor, propulsive and haunting, with the drums playing antagonist to Tara's vocals, every second pulling the listener deeper into the appealing abyss. The trio is able to shake the listener off the case with a few shorter tracks, almost interludes, keeping the engagement level high before ending with "Caoineadh." Long and mesmerizing, the closer brings in all their influences at once, blending beautifully into a song that is reminiscent of latter day Beatles, complete with warped album warble. Very "turn on, tune in, drop out," this last track is certainly one that the listener can hook their claws into and make it their daily meditative anthem.

 

Rún is at both times hard to describe but easy to elucidate on. The liminal point between thinking and feeling, like the hemispheres of the brain, Apollo and Dionysus, hits the listener in areas expected and surprising, as great art will do. Although this is the trio's debut, they work together as if they've been at it for decades, proof that their improvisation and intuition are in line, and that they're performing as something more than just three artists presenting their visions.