Niklas Sundin and Enrico Longhin Dismantle Genre with Weapon Pt. I

When metal veteran Niklas Sundin (ex–Dark Tranquillity, Mitochondrial Sun) teams up with Enrico Longhin (The Moor), you might expect a heavy guitar-driven collaboration. You’d be wrong.

Their new project, Time and the Hunter, trades distortion for disintegration — and it’s all the more haunting for it.

Released April 25 via Inertial Music, Weapon Pt. I is a cold, cinematic meditation on identity, memory, and decay. Part electronic art-noise, part existential darkwave, the album is as immersive as it is discomforting — the kind of record that rewards complete attention and gives little away on first listen. It’s minimal, moody, and meticulous.

But don’t mistake restraint for simplicity. These tracks are sonically rich, emotionally loaded, and precision-built by two artists fluent in tension. Metalheads with open ears and ambient heads with a taste for dread will both find something here to sit with — and return to.

From Chance Demo to Full Collaboration

Elevar: How did you and Enrico Longhin come together for this project—what sparked Time and the Hunter?

Niklas Sundin: It started completely by accident. Enrico and I worked together when I did artwork for his band, The Moor. He sent me some demos to get a feel for the visual side. I sent back one of my instrumental tracks, just to share something I was working on — not intended as a collaboration. The next day he returned it with vocals. That one moment flipped the whole direction. We realized there was a creative connection worth exploring, and that led to Time and the Hunter. It wasn’t planned, but the best stuff rarely is.

Not “Metal Gone Electro” — Something Else Entirely

Elevar: Your backgrounds are rooted in metal and prog. How did that experience shape this very different musical landscape?

Sundin: Metal teaches you how to build intensity — and I think we still do that, just through different tools. I’ve always had a deep love for electronic music. I got into Depeche Mode, Jean-Michel Jarre, and even more obscure synth stuff before I ever picked up a guitar. Back then, it wasn’t unusual to love both Slayer and Alphaville. That early duality shaped me. What we’re doing with Time and the Hunter isn’t “metal musicians trying out synths.” It’s about creating something sonically honest. The influences are broad, but the mindset is still heavy — just not in the traditional sense.

More Than a One-Off

Elevar: Is Time and the Hunter an ongoing project, or was Weapon Pt. I a one-time collaboration?

Sundin: It’s very much ongoing. We’ve already written Weapon Pt. II — it’s in the post-production stage now. There was a creative explosion once we got rolling. We ended up with more than 20 tracks, so it made sense to split them into two coherent albums. Some of what’s on Pt. II was written even earlier than Pt. I. So this is definitely not a side project or experiment. It’s a serious artistic focus.

Lyrics of Inner Dread and Unnamed Conflict

Elevar: The lyrics feel both poetic and ominous — there’s a constant undercurrent of displacement. What inspired that?

Sundin: Enrico wrote most of the lyrics, except for The Following Silence, which was co-written and sung by Mikael Stanne. The themes are definitely internal — the kind of emotional dislocation that doesn’t always have a clear cause. For me, I’ve always preferred lyrics that evoke a mood instead of telling a straightforward story. Abstract fragments, symbolic language — they leave space for the listener to insert themselves. There’s enough concrete despair in the world. We’re interested in something more interpretive, more psychological.

Listening Reflection: A Beautiful Descent

Listening to Weapon Pt. I is like revisiting the mood of early Depeche Mode — but stripped of gloss, and rebuilt with raw emotion. It doesn’t reach for commercial appeal, yet its production is immaculate. The sound is huge without being loud, delicate without being fragile. It's darkwave without the kitsch — beautifully updated for modern ears.

There’s something deeply human in the way these tracks breathe. The synths don’t shimmer; they haunt. The rhythms don’t demand movement; they pull you inward. It’s nostalgic, but not retro. You’re reminded of nights in the 80s — smoke machines and cold neon — but here, the memory isn’t borrowed. It’s personal. Introspective. Real.

This isn’t music for multitasking. It’s for sitting still, letting go, and giving yourself permission to disappear into a darker corner of your room — and stay there for a while. It leaves you with that ache you can’t name, the kind you secretly hope doesn’t go away.

Sound That Breathes (and Bleeds)

Elevar: The production feels organic, like the songs are living things. How did you approach that?

Sundin: That was very intentional. We wanted the music to feel alive — not clean, not perfect, but textured. Enrico handled mixing, and we worked on getting the sound to feel both intimate and unstable. Lawrence Mackrory did the mastering, which helped give the songs cohesion without stripping their rawness. I also did the artwork, which we kept minimal but full of texture — like the music. It’s all part of the same atmosphere.

Who This Album Is For

Weapon Pt. I is a different animal, and it’s an emotionally beautiful listening experience. It’s a record for the musicians and listeners who crave mood over hooks, tension over tempo. There’s no riff payoff here, no breakdown waiting in the wings. But for those who live inside the grey areas — musicians who obsess over tone, fans who prefer the descent to the drop — Weapon Pt. I hits like a quiet panic attack in the best way.