Helene Rickhard is one of those genuinely rare artists who arrived fully formed. A beloved DJ and producer within Norway's underground electronic community for years before the outside world caught on, the Agder-based artist spent that time accumulating an extraordinary record collection and developing a production sensibility that draws equally from kosmische, krautrock, ambient, and techno.
Her debut long player Unpredictable Express on Snick Snack Music landed in November 2025 and was her formal introduction to the wider world; Everlasting High follows just six months later as its counterpart, and arrives on May 8th 2026 via the same Oslo-based imprint, which has also recently released music from the likes of Ost & Kjex and Trulz & Robin.
The album opens amidst waves of thunderous cosmic distortion that crash into the listener, submerging them in an ambient swill before a marching kick drum takes hold in Galaxy Chords. Sustained static stabs, harmonic synth voices, and the sludgiest of acid basslines accompany a narrator recounting the journey from Mars to Earth; an opening statement that immediately establishes the record's restless, intergalactic ambition.
Mad Girl follows with a distinctly dreamy synth-pop lilt; and even in these poppier moments, Rickhard refuses to fully vacate her left-of-field sensibilities. Shades of Björk surface here too, and given the company that puts her in, we are absolutely not complaining.
Dubby undertones take hold with Lion's Eye, which features a rocksteady bassline and muted guitar strums while Helene's echoing vocal shimmers like the glittering fragments of a broken mirror frozen in time.
Techno funk seizes the controls on Einsteinbrain; a simple electro beat underpinning a deeply disconcerting vocal that haunts the mix like spirits of the ether. Faint wisps of barely perceivable speech permeate the static at irregular intervals, never quite offering comfort amidst the synaptic zaps of long-forgotten memories.
Deluge continues the electro adventure, propelling the listener at frightening velocity toward what feels like an ever-encroaching doom. 303 belches sit alongside a gloopy bassline for an incredibly emotive acid jam that culminates, unexpectedly and perfectly, in a burst of digital dolphin chirps.
Don't Bother carries a gritty, spectral quality that fans of Fatima Al Qadiri will revel in. A solid drum break rolls throughout the composition as hauntological samples and refrains drift in and out of the space, reminding you of everything and nothing quite simultaneously.
The album closes on the dream state delivered by Everlasting. Deep human breaths encourage the listener to relent to the final track, static panning directly through the brain from ear to ear while barely perceivable vocals glimpse through the foggy atmosphere, until Rickhard finally disappears into the auditory mist amidst a most fitting piano crescendo.
An incredible journey and one truly worth giving your full time and attention to. Grab it on Bandcamp.