Album Review: Einar Solberg - Vox Occulta (InsideOutMusic, 2026)
- Apr 9
- 7 min read
Updated: Apr 25
Written: 9th April 2026
Einar Solberg will be known to many as the founding member, keyboardist, vocalist and driving force of Norwegian band Leprous. Those who have followed them will know they have evolved from progressive metal roots to embrace art rock, pop and electronica. Solberg is not an artist that likes to stay in one place. His first solo album 16, released in 2023 found him turning his back on guitar-driven rock almost entirely and now Vox Occulta (which translates as Hidden Voice) finds him taken an even bolder step forward. “I didn’t have any musical ambition with 16,” Solberg admits. “I was testing the waters and working with a lot of different people, because I didn’t know what my style was going to be. When I started this album, I realised, I need to sharpen my aim a bit. Who am I, and how can I exaggerate that?”
On Vox Occulta, recorded in collaboration with The Norwegian Radio Orchestra, Solberg has not only exaggerated this but has taken his music into a completely different realm. He has a clear vision for the project. “I want to be seen as the cinematic person in prog. I want to completely own that. This is a very cinematic album, and that’s what I was aiming at: to make it bigger, but also more fragile and emotional at other moments. You don’t hear the same amount of space in the music as you do in Leprous.”
As with 16, Vox Occulta was co-produced by Solberg and David Castillo. He is also joined by drummer Keli Guðjónsson, violinist Chris Baum, Jed Lingat on bass, Pierre Danel playing guitar, with contributions from John Browne and Ben Levin.
Stella Mortua immediately sets the scene. Deep, reverberant strings are followed by insistent percussion, gradually building before falling away as Solberg delivers the first verse. I reached the height I dared not dream / Unbent by flame, untouched by scheme / I bore no mask, I played no role / No price was paid, I kept my soul. There is an underlying darkness to the song that is beautifully enhanced by the orchestra. After all, orchestras were the original heavy metal bands. It moves between moments of progressive and symphonic metal to tense, quieter moments highlighted by the sharp staccato of violins. Solberg’s vocals are nothing short of sensational – his outstanding range fully utilised including some impressively aggressive growls. Lyrically, it examines how resentment and self‑doubt can linger beneath the appearance of success. Einar states, “In this world, demons wear tuxedos, and pride slowly turns to paralysis.” Stella Mortua is the perfect track to open Vox Occulta and illustrate that Solberg is fully committed to this approach.
Medulla is far more riff based. Jed Lingat’s throbbing bass and Pierre Daniel’s jagged guitar develop an infectious groove. The full orchestra does not play on this track but there is some exquisite violin from Chris Baum, particularly during the quieter and reflective central section. Solberg, once again, stretches his voice but always remains in full control. It is also a song of variety. Those looking for metallic strength will find it during the song’s conclusion which contains some genuinely heavy guitar. Medulla focuses on the important of endurance and inner resilience when life feels overwhelming and Solberg says that the track feels physical. “It’s like something you feel in your bones rather than just hear. That’s where the idea of marrow came in. The song is about the part of me that stayed strong through everything I’ve been through. No matter what happened around it, the core held.” He sings the words with passion and conviction. I believe that I can heal it, though my senses slowly split / I believe that I can feel it, though my nerves can’t quite commit / And I have not been giving up / And I won’t be torn apart / My marrow is strong.
Solberg continues to look inward on the title track which he says is about his worst impulses and worst feelings. “That voice has never been a dominant part of my personality, but it’s always been there,” Solberg explains. “I look at it with curiosity and ask, ‘Why do I have these thoughts? Why did I get super angry at this person and waste my breath on this now? Why did I pay a lot of money for this completely pointless thing right now?” Vox Occulta is not an album that simply has an orchestra as enjoyable accompaniment; it is a fully immersive part of the experience. The first ninety seconds of the title track serve as an overture with the strings bringing the cinematic aspects Solberg desires, brass adding deep foreboding tones and timpani rumbling beneath the arrangement like a distant threat. Through different phases, Vox Occulta moves from the almost chaotic to the deeply introspective and also to and from turbulent emotions to feelings of happiness. Solberg’s performance fully reflects this as he screams lyrics one moment and sings with an operatic verve the next. It is a quite remarkable performance.
Liberatio begins with an unconventional string melody, with drums and guitars providing a more metallic foundation. The first part of the song is brooding and edgy but after ninety seconds, it morphs into something else entirely. By the standards set across the album, Liberatio now offers its most uplifting moments. Lyrically, Solberg casts off external expectations in favour of freedom being an active choice. I see the tigers run at night / I go unbound / I see the shadows flood with light / Am I profound. It is a delightfully melodic and joyous moment that adds vibrant colour among the often monochromatic atmospheres of Vox Occulta.
Beginning the second half of the album, Serenitas adds another layer to the diversity that Vox Occulta contains. Down tempo, calm and deeply relaxing, it suggests that calm is not an absence of struggle but a state reach by allowing our burdens to dissipate. I breathe beneath the open skies / No weight remains, no hidden lies / The air restores, the night is clear / No whispered chains are left to hear. As an exercise in allowing a track to develop naturally, Serenitas is assured and unhurried. Initially based around piano and voice, it grows with the addition of strings and gentle, thoughtful percussion from Keli Guðjónsson. It flows with a charming grace, and during the final two minutes, an expressive and soaring guitar solo leads us towards a luscious crescendo as the song takes full flight, producing one of the most spine‑tingling moments on the entire album. Some of the notes that Solberg reaches defy belief and, if any proof were needed, he shows us why he is among the most exciting and gifted vocalists of recent times.
Vita Fragilis is an urgent and defiant piece that highlights the versatility and power of the orchestra on a track that seeks solace in the fact that everyone has to die someday. “The fragility of life is something that I see mainly as a positive thing,” Solberg says. “It can be such a simple thing. When I’m on the tour bus in the middle of the night, I’m putting my life in the hands of whoever is driving that bus, trusting that I’ll wake up the next morning in the next city. It gives me joy to take those risks and to give up control.” In contrast to the peaceful nature of Serenitas, Vita Fragilis has moments of anguish, crunching riffs from both the orchestra and band, together with the heaviest vocals Solberg has to offer. Should I run through the fire / Just to see if it burns / Every truth I admire / Is a lesson unlearned.
Penultimate track Grex is an epic that features almost every musical element that we have heard so far: sometimes operatic, sometimes progressive and sometimes metallic. Introduced by lamenting, heart-breaking violin, it pulls us in gradually and over the course of twelve minutes, unfolds through sweeping symphonic metal passages, stark and desolate vocal lines, and violins and guitars acting as twins, locked together in harmony. A striking guitar solo provides a powerful focal point, while moments where the cello takes the lead, sections of near‑silence and a succession of belligerent riffs drive the track towards its imposing conclusion. Throughout, Solberg holds everything together with a commanding and deeply affecting vocal performance. With such a vast scope, mere words are not enough to describe the experience. It captures with stunning clarity the ambition that underpins Vox Occulta and the extent to which Solberg delivers on it.
Vox Occulta ends with Anima Lucis, a song about emerging from darkness into light and acceptance. Like a million rays of sun / From a universe beyond / All of the melancholy’s gone / This is my creature of light / Every moment burning bright. It is a contemplative and almost pensive song for the most part. During the final minute, the timpanis thunder once more and a tenacious, unyielding Solberg unveils his final message. Let me dwell in this eternity / Where every dawn is carved in silence and light / An unseen air / My tunnel broken. It brings the album to a resonant close, leaving a lingering sense of clarity and release.
Vox Occulta is a defining statement within Solberg’s catalogue, delivered with focus and intent from start to finish. It moves well beyond anything previously associated with his name, carving out its own space. Those prepared to engage with it on its own terms will find an absorbing and layered experience, while anyone anticipating a continuation of Leprous or even 16 will instead be met with something unexpected. Central to this success is the interplay between Solberg, the orchestra – which at times remind me of Mike Oldfield’s Music of the Spheres - and a band performing at an exceptional level.
All of this is aided by production that feels rich, purposeful and evocative throughout. Yet it is Solberg’s voice that ultimately anchors the album. As he himself states, “This is a long-term project, and I know that I will take it where I want to have it. I know from experience how to build something. It’s through patience and determination. What I’m hoping is for it to create two branches of fans: one that prefers Leprous and one that prefers my solo project.” While there will be many listeners who will enjoy both projects, on the strength of Vox Occulta, his future is laid out with assurance, leaving little doubt as to Solberg's intention to pursue this direction further. Monumental. Visionary. Authoritative.
Vox Occulta is released on 24th April 2026
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