#amon-amarth — Public Fediverse posts

Vengeful trickster fairies, a realm of impenetrable cold and boundless frost, a dragon gnawing away at the roots of the World Tree; Norse iconography is intense, and metal bands have known this at least since Led Zeppelin. Sweden’s Fejd, a folk metal group formed in 2001 from the folk duo Rimmerfors and the prog-thrash band Pathos,1 have been weaving Norse history and mythology into their acoustics-forward heavy metal for decades. They were last heard with 2016’s Trolldom, followed by a decade of inactivity as far as new music is concerned. But now, drummer Esko Sallow, keyboardist Lennart Specht, bassist Thomas Antonsson, vocalist/moraharpa player Niklas Rimmerfors, and multi-instrumentalist Patrik Rimmerfors2 have taken the Fejd banner to Nifelheim, the Norse realm of ice and an album steeped in mist-wrapped mystery. Fejd sing in Swedish and, being a Swiss-cheese-brained American, I can’t tell you if they capture their “Nordic melancholy” in lyricism. But can they musically?

“Folk metal” encompasses a lot of different sounds; the way Fejd do it, Nifelheim is folk, folk metal. Fejd’s approach immediately reminded me of The Hu’s early material, where amidst the great score of acoustic instrumentation, keyboards, and drums, not one distorted guitar appears. This is no issue. The lively, drone-noted strumming on “Edsvuren” and “Sköldborg”‘s Amon Amarthesque fighting riffs prove Fejd can bring the goods without them. Nifelheim’s acoustic soundscape—beautifully captured in a warm and dynamic mastering job—smells of sea salt on “Älvagrimmar” with its wind-swept majesty and “Strilja”‘s medieval jauntiness and Sgàile-like grandeur. On first listen, I was quickly and easily engrossed. Nifelheim doesn’t actually sound Nordic—like most Viking-y folk music these days, Fejd mostly play a hodgepodge of Asian and Eastern European instruments—but it nonetheless sounds like a dip into the primordial world.

Fejd use a lot of instruments on Nifelheim, and brother, you better believe they’re using them all in the same song. “Nidhögg” navigates between mouth harp,3 a plethora of strings, synthesizers, and group vocals while the title track opens to a cavalcade of drums, horns, and synchronized string riffs to bombastic effect. Nifelheim is just about always like this. But what’s crazy is that Nifelheim never sounds overly crowded. This owes partly to its aforementioned mix but also Fejd’s delicate songcraft, which sees pieces sliding in and out of the music in seamless, natural transitions. But what’s similarly baffling is that, though Fejd weave such big compositions together, Nifelheim still sounds kinda thin. This is in part due to a lack of low end, which is mostly handled by Salow kicking the dookie out of his drums, because Antonsson’s bass basically stands in the back of the mix sipping a beer mead. Regardless, in tying Nifelheim’s anachronistic musical identity together into a cohesive package, it’s safe to say these Swedes left no “Ø” uncrossed or “Ä” undotted.

But with how spirited Fejd’s musical identity is and how rich Nifelheim’s compositions can be, it’s a bit surprising how much steam the record loses by the end. Nifelheim keeps to a mid-pace throughout its runtime, and though Fejd can play briskly—Salow really lets loose on the kit when he wants to (“Edsvuren”)—the music nonetheless feels stuck in one speed. Similarly, I’d describe Rimmerfors’ vocals as workmanlike on Nifelheim, serving the music well but being too constrained to stand out or elevate it. Factored together, these two problems conspire to give Nifelheim a feeling of déjà vu. When closer “Svarta Tjärn” rolls out its big conclusion in hopes of a true Viking funeral, a track worthy of one in a vacuum, over-familiarity dims its flame to a serviceable campfire instead. Nifelheim is smooth sailing, but perhaps the trip would’ve been more memorable had Fejd challenged some choppier waters.

Nifelheim is a fun and expertly crafted album the whole way through, but a lack of exciting highs keeps me from giving a full-chested recommendation of it. Fans of folk metal will likely enjoy what Fejd offer on it, and genre diehards are likely to rate it more highly than I. I hear all the essence of a great album in Nifelheim, from Fejd’s expert chemistry to the record’s effortless fluidity. But I also hear the potential for something to really blow the roof off with Nifelheim gone unrealized. A few stronger hooks or up-tempo moments would’ve really gone a long way. But regardless, Nifelheim is a sound warship for Fejd to get back on the warpath with, and more than worthy of your consideration for listening. Skol!

Rating: Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Black Lodge | Sound Pollution
Websites: fejd.se | facebook.com/Fejdofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

Vengeful trickster fairies, a realm of impenetrable cold and boundless frost, a dragon gnawing away at the roots of the World Tree; Norse iconography is intense, and metal bands have known this at least since Led Zeppelin. Sweden’s Fejd, a folk metal group formed in 2001 from the folk duo Rimmerfors and the prog-thrash band Pathos,1 have been weaving Norse history and mythology into their acoustics-forward heavy metal for decades. They were last heard with 2016’s Trolldom, followed by a decade of inactivity as far as new music is concerned. But now, drummer Esko Sallow, keyboardist Lennart Specht, bassist Thomas Antonsson, vocalist/moraharpa player Niklas Rimmerfors, and multi-instrumentalist Patrik Rimmerfors2 have taken the Fejd banner to Nifelheim, the Norse realm of ice and an album steeped in mist-wrapped mystery. Fejd sing in Swedish and, being a Swiss-cheese-brained American, I can’t tell you if they capture their “Nordic melancholy” in lyricism. But can they musically?

“Folk metal” encompasses a lot of different sounds; the way Fejd do it, Nifelheim is folk, folk metal. Fejd’s approach immediately reminded me of The Hu’s early material, where amidst the great score of acoustic instrumentation, keyboards, and drums, not one distorted guitar appears. This is no issue. The lively, drone-noted strumming on “Edsvuren” and “Sköldborg”‘s Amon Amarthesque fighting riffs prove Fejd can bring the goods without them. Nifelheim’s acoustic soundscape—beautifully captured in a warm and dynamic mastering job—smells of sea salt on “Älvagrimmar” with its wind-swept majesty and “Strilja”‘s medieval jauntiness and Sgàile-like grandeur. On first listen, I was quickly and easily engrossed. Nifelheim doesn’t actually sound Nordic—like most Viking-y folk music these days, Fejd mostly play a hodgepodge of Asian and Eastern European instruments—but it nonetheless sounds like a dip into the primordial world.

Fejd use a lot of instruments on Nifelheim, and brother, you better believe they’re using them all in the same song. “Nidhögg” navigates between mouth harp,3 a plethora of strings, synthesizers, and group vocals while the title track opens to a cavalcade of drums, horns, and synchronized string riffs to bombastic effect. Nifelheim is just about always like this. But what’s crazy is that Nifelheim never sounds overly crowded. This owes partly to its aforementioned mix but also Fejd’s delicate songcraft, which sees pieces sliding in and out of the music in seamless, natural transitions. But what’s similarly baffling is that, though Fejd weave such big compositions together, Nifelheim still sounds kinda thin. This is in part due to a lack of low end, which is mostly handled by Salow kicking the dookie out of his drums, because Antonsson’s bass basically stands in the back of the mix sipping a beer mead. Regardless, in tying Nifelheim’s anachronistic musical identity together into a cohesive package, it’s safe to say these Swedes left no “Ø” uncrossed or “Ä” undotted.

But with how spirited Fejd’s musical identity is and how rich Nifelheim’s compositions can be, it’s a bit surprising how much steam the record loses by the end. Nifelheim keeps to a mid-pace throughout its runtime, and though Fejd can play briskly—Salow really lets loose on the kit when he wants to (“Edsvuren”)—the music nonetheless feels stuck in one speed. Similarly, I’d describe Rimmerfors’ vocals as workmanlike on Nifelheim, serving the music well but being too constrained to stand out or elevate it. Factored together, these two problems conspire to give Nifelheim a feeling of déjà vu. When closer “Svarta Tjärn” rolls out its big conclusion in hopes of a true Viking funeral, a track worthy of one in a vacuum, over-familiarity dims its flame to a serviceable campfire instead. Nifelheim is smooth sailing, but perhaps the trip would’ve been more memorable had Fejd challenged some choppier waters.

Nifelheim is a fun and expertly crafted album the whole way through, but a lack of exciting highs keeps me from giving a full-chested recommendation of it. Fans of folk metal will likely enjoy what Fejd offer on it, and genre diehards are likely to rate it more highly than I. I hear all the essence of a great album in Nifelheim, from Fejd’s expert chemistry to the record’s effortless fluidity. But I also hear the potential for something to really blow the roof off with Nifelheim gone unrealized. A few stronger hooks or up-tempo moments would’ve really gone a long way. But regardless, Nifelheim is a sound warship for Fejd to get back on the warpath with, and more than worthy of your consideration for listening. Skol!

Rating: Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Black Lodge | Sound Pollution
Websites: fejd.se | facebook.com/Fejdofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

Vengeful trickster fairies, a realm of impenetrable cold and boundless frost, a dragon gnawing away at the roots of the World Tree; Norse iconography is intense, and metal bands have known this at least since Led Zeppelin. Sweden’s Fejd, a folk metal group formed in 2001 from the folk duo Rimmerfors and the prog-thrash band Pathos,1 have been weaving Norse history and mythology into their acoustics-forward heavy metal for decades. They were last heard with 2016’s Trolldom, followed by a decade of inactivity as far as new music is concerned. But now, drummer Esko Sallow, keyboardist Lennart Specht, bassist Thomas Antonsson, vocalist/moraharpa player Niklas Rimmerfors, and multi-instrumentalist Patrik Rimmerfors2 have taken the Fejd banner to Nifelheim, the Norse realm of ice and an album steeped in mist-wrapped mystery. Fejd sing in Swedish and, being a Swiss-cheese-brained American, I can’t tell you if they capture their “Nordic melancholy” in lyricism. But can they musically?

“Folk metal” encompasses a lot of different sounds; the way Fejd do it, Nifelheim is folk, folk metal. Fejd’s approach immediately reminded me of The Hu’s early material, where amidst the great score of acoustic instrumentation, keyboards, and drums, not one distorted guitar appears. This is no issue. The lively, drone-noted strumming on “Edsvuren” and “Sköldborg”‘s Amon Amarthesque fighting riffs prove Fejd can bring the goods without them. Nifelheim’s acoustic soundscape—beautifully captured in a warm and dynamic mastering job—smells of sea salt on “Älvagrimmar” with its wind-swept majesty and “Strilja”‘s medieval jauntiness and Sgàile-like grandeur. On first listen, I was quickly and easily engrossed. Nifelheim doesn’t actually sound Nordic—like most Viking-y folk music these days, Fejd mostly play a hodgepodge of Asian and Eastern European instruments—but it nonetheless sounds like a dip into the primordial world.

Fejd use a lot of instruments on Nifelheim, and brother, you better believe they’re using them all in the same song. “Nidhögg” navigates between mouth harp,3 a plethora of strings, synthesizers, and group vocals while the title track opens to a cavalcade of drums, horns, and synchronized string riffs to bombastic effect. Nifelheim is just about always like this. But what’s crazy is that Nifelheim never sounds overly crowded. This owes partly to its aforementioned mix but also Fejd’s delicate songcraft, which sees pieces sliding in and out of the music in seamless, natural transitions. But what’s similarly baffling is that, though Fejd weave such big compositions together, Nifelheim still sounds kinda thin. This is in part due to a lack of low end, which is mostly handled by Salow kicking the dookie out of his drums, because Antonsson’s bass basically stands in the back of the mix sipping a beer mead. Regardless, in tying Nifelheim’s anachronistic musical identity together into a cohesive package, it’s safe to say these Swedes left no “Ø” uncrossed or “Ä” undotted.

But with how spirited Fejd’s musical identity is and how rich Nifelheim’s compositions can be, it’s a bit surprising how much steam the record loses by the end. Nifelheim keeps to a mid-pace throughout its runtime, and though Fejd can play briskly—Salow really lets loose on the kit when he wants to (“Edsvuren”)—the music nonetheless feels stuck in one speed. Similarly, I’d describe Rimmerfors’ vocals as workmanlike on Nifelheim, serving the music well but being too constrained to stand out or elevate it. Factored together, these two problems conspire to give Nifelheim a feeling of déjà vu. When closer “Svarta Tjärn” rolls out its big conclusion in hopes of a true Viking funeral, a track worthy of one in a vacuum, over-familiarity dims its flame to a serviceable campfire instead. Nifelheim is smooth sailing, but perhaps the trip would’ve been more memorable had Fejd challenged some choppier waters.

Nifelheim is a fun and expertly crafted album the whole way through, but a lack of exciting highs keeps me from giving a full-chested recommendation of it. Fans of folk metal will likely enjoy what Fejd offer on it, and genre diehards are likely to rate it more highly than I. I hear all the essence of a great album in Nifelheim, from Fejd’s expert chemistry to the record’s effortless fluidity. But I also hear the potential for something to really blow the roof off with Nifelheim gone unrealized. A few stronger hooks or up-tempo moments would’ve really gone a long way. But regardless, Nifelheim is a sound warship for Fejd to get back on the warpath with, and more than worthy of your consideration for listening. Skol!

Rating: Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Black Lodge | Sound Pollution
Websites: fejd.se | facebook.com/Fejdofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

Vengeful trickster fairies, a realm of impenetrable cold and boundless frost, a dragon gnawing away at the roots of the World Tree; Norse iconography is intense, and metal bands have known this at least since Led Zeppelin. Sweden’s Fejd, a folk metal group formed in 2001 from the folk duo Rimmerfors and the prog-thrash band Pathos,1 have been weaving Norse history and mythology into their acoustics-forward heavy metal for decades. They were last heard with 2016’s Trolldom, followed by a decade of inactivity as far as new music is concerned. But now, drummer Esko Sallow, keyboardist Lennart Specht, bassist Thomas Antonsson, vocalist/moraharpa player Niklas Rimmerfors, and multi-instrumentalist Patrik Rimmerfors2 have taken the Fejd banner to Nifelheim, the Norse realm of ice and an album steeped in mist-wrapped mystery. Fejd sing in Swedish and, being a Swiss-cheese-brained American, I can’t tell you if they capture their “Nordic melancholy” in lyricism. But can they musically?

“Folk metal” encompasses a lot of different sounds; the way Fejd do it, Nifelheim is folk, folk metal. Fejd’s approach immediately reminded me of The Hu’s early material, where amidst the great score of acoustic instrumentation, keyboards, and drums, not one distorted guitar appears. This is no issue. The lively, drone-noted strumming on “Edsvuren” and “Sköldborg”‘s Amon Amarthesque fighting riffs prove Fejd can bring the goods without them. Nifelheim’s acoustic soundscape—beautifully captured in a warm and dynamic mastering job—smells of sea salt on “Älvagrimmar” with its wind-swept majesty and “Strilja”‘s medieval jauntiness and Sgàile-like grandeur. On first listen, I was quickly and easily engrossed. Nifelheim doesn’t actually sound Nordic—like most Viking-y folk music these days, Fejd mostly play a hodgepodge of Asian and Eastern European instruments—but it nonetheless sounds like a dip into the primordial world.

Fejd use a lot of instruments on Nifelheim, and brother, you better believe they’re using them all in the same song. “Nidhögg” navigates between mouth harp,3 a plethora of strings, synthesizers, and group vocals while the title track opens to a cavalcade of drums, horns, and synchronized string riffs to bombastic effect. Nifelheim is just about always like this. But what’s crazy is that Nifelheim never sounds overly crowded. This owes partly to its aforementioned mix but also Fejd’s delicate songcraft, which sees pieces sliding in and out of the music in seamless, natural transitions. But what’s similarly baffling is that, though Fejd weave such big compositions together, Nifelheim still sounds kinda thin. This is in part due to a lack of low end, which is mostly handled by Salow kicking the dookie out of his drums, because Antonsson’s bass basically stands in the back of the mix sipping a beer mead. Regardless, in tying Nifelheim’s anachronistic musical identity together into a cohesive package, it’s safe to say these Swedes left no “Ø” uncrossed or “Ä” undotted.

But with how spirited Fejd’s musical identity is and how rich Nifelheim’s compositions can be, it’s a bit surprising how much steam the record loses by the end. Nifelheim keeps to a mid-pace throughout its runtime, and though Fejd can play briskly—Salow really lets loose on the kit when he wants to (“Edsvuren”)—the music nonetheless feels stuck in one speed. Similarly, I’d describe Rimmerfors’ vocals as workmanlike on Nifelheim, serving the music well but being too constrained to stand out or elevate it. Factored together, these two problems conspire to give Nifelheim a feeling of déjà vu. When closer “Svarta Tjärn” rolls out its big conclusion in hopes of a true Viking funeral, a track worthy of one in a vacuum, over-familiarity dims its flame to a serviceable campfire instead. Nifelheim is smooth sailing, but perhaps the trip would’ve been more memorable had Fejd challenged some choppier waters.

Nifelheim is a fun and expertly crafted album the whole way through, but a lack of exciting highs keeps me from giving a full-chested recommendation of it. Fans of folk metal will likely enjoy what Fejd offer on it, and genre diehards are likely to rate it more highly than I. I hear all the essence of a great album in Nifelheim, from Fejd’s expert chemistry to the record’s effortless fluidity. But I also hear the potential for something to really blow the roof off with Nifelheim gone unrealized. A few stronger hooks or up-tempo moments would’ve really gone a long way. But regardless, Nifelheim is a sound warship for Fejd to get back on the warpath with, and more than worthy of your consideration for listening. Skol!

Rating: Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Black Lodge | Sound Pollution
Websites: fejd.se | facebook.com/Fejdofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

Vengeful trickster fairies, a realm of impenetrable cold and boundless frost, a dragon gnawing away at the roots of the World Tree; Norse iconography is intense, and metal bands have known this at least since Led Zeppelin. Sweden’s Fejd, a folk metal group formed in 2001 from the folk duo Rimmerfors and the prog-thrash band Pathos,1 have been weaving Norse history and mythology into their acoustics-forward heavy metal for decades. They were last heard with 2016’s Trolldom, followed by a decade of inactivity as far as new music is concerned. But now, drummer Esko Sallow, keyboardist Lennart Specht, bassist Thomas Antonsson, vocalist/moraharpa player Niklas Rimmerfors, and multi-instrumentalist Patrik Rimmerfors2 have taken the Fejd banner to Nifelheim, the Norse realm of ice and an album steeped in mist-wrapped mystery. Fejd sing in Swedish and, being a Swiss-cheese-brained American, I can’t tell you if they capture their “Nordic melancholy” in lyricism. But can they musically?

“Folk metal” encompasses a lot of different sounds; the way Fejd do it, Nifelheim is folk, folk metal. Fejd’s approach immediately reminded me of The Hu’s early material, where amidst the great score of acoustic instrumentation, keyboards, and drums, not one distorted guitar appears. This is no issue. The lively, drone-noted strumming on “Edsvuren” and “Sköldborg”‘s Amon Amarthesque fighting riffs prove Fejd can bring the goods without them. Nifelheim’s acoustic soundscape—beautifully captured in a warm and dynamic mastering job—smells of sea salt on “Älvagrimmar” with its wind-swept majesty and “Strilja”‘s medieval jauntiness and Sgàile-like grandeur. On first listen, I was quickly and easily engrossed. Nifelheim doesn’t actually sound Nordic—like most Viking-y folk music these days, Fejd mostly play a hodgepodge of Asian and Eastern European instruments—but it nonetheless sounds like a dip into the primordial world.

Fejd use a lot of instruments on Nifelheim, and brother, you better believe they’re using them all in the same song. “Nidhögg” navigates between mouth harp,3 a plethora of strings, synthesizers, and group vocals while the title track opens to a cavalcade of drums, horns, and synchronized string riffs to bombastic effect. Nifelheim is just about always like this. But what’s crazy is that Nifelheim never sounds overly crowded. This owes partly to its aforementioned mix but also Fejd’s delicate songcraft, which sees pieces sliding in and out of the music in seamless, natural transitions. But what’s similarly baffling is that, though Fejd weave such big compositions together, Nifelheim still sounds kinda thin. This is in part due to a lack of low end, which is mostly handled by Salow kicking the dookie out of his drums, because Antonsson’s bass basically stands in the back of the mix sipping a beer mead. Regardless, in tying Nifelheim’s anachronistic musical identity together into a cohesive package, it’s safe to say these Swedes left no “Ø” uncrossed or “Ä” undotted.

But with how spirited Fejd’s musical identity is and how rich Nifelheim’s compositions can be, it’s a bit surprising how much steam the record loses by the end. Nifelheim keeps to a mid-pace throughout its runtime, and though Fejd can play briskly—Salow really lets loose on the kit when he wants to (“Edsvuren”)—the music nonetheless feels stuck in one speed. Similarly, I’d describe Rimmerfors’ vocals as workmanlike on Nifelheim, serving the music well but being too constrained to stand out or elevate it. Factored together, these two problems conspire to give Nifelheim a feeling of déjà vu. When closer “Svarta Tjärn” rolls out its big conclusion in hopes of a true Viking funeral, a track worthy of one in a vacuum, over-familiarity dims its flame to a serviceable campfire instead. Nifelheim is smooth sailing, but perhaps the trip would’ve been more memorable had Fejd challenged some choppier waters.

Nifelheim is a fun and expertly crafted album the whole way through, but a lack of exciting highs keeps me from giving a full-chested recommendation of it. Fans of folk metal will likely enjoy what Fejd offer on it, and genre diehards are likely to rate it more highly than I. I hear all the essence of a great album in Nifelheim, from Fejd’s expert chemistry to the record’s effortless fluidity. But I also hear the potential for something to really blow the roof off with Nifelheim gone unrealized. A few stronger hooks or up-tempo moments would’ve really gone a long way. But regardless, Nifelheim is a sound warship for Fejd to get back on the warpath with, and more than worthy of your consideration for listening. Skol!

Rating: Good
DR: 9 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps MP3
Label: Black Lodge | Sound Pollution
Websites: fejd.se | facebook.com/Fejdofficial
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

London, England’s Fen has a storied history at AMG, with five reviews spread across three different writers. The illustrious Madam X reviewed them thrice with mixed results, followed by Doom_et_Al’s laudatory commentary on The Dead Light and, most recently, Cherd’s favorable-but-less-impressed impression of Monuments to Absence. You should read their words because they’re excellent writers,1 but the upshot of their analysis is that Fen often crafts gorgeous layers of music that sometimes lose focus or take too long to spool out. Imagine my delight, then, when I discovered Fen’s newest album, Elemental Part One: Mourning Earth only runs forty-seven minutes.2 While the overall album length suggests improved self-editing, Mourning Earth is the first part of a greater effort and carries the risk of either feeling incomplete or disguising bloat between multiple releases. In the end, does Fen free their songwriting from the mires that held back some previous albums?

Throughout Mourning Earth, Fen conjures familiar reference points while evoking less obvious connections as well. Opener “Glacier” reminds me of “Storm Son,” the opening track to Enslaved’s E, with its prog-leaning clean guitars playing over galloping blast beats and beautifully written choral arrangements. The last third of “Glacier” and follow-up “Techtonic” rumble and quake with calls to Blood Mountain-era Mastodon,3 while “Massif” and “Abyssal Plain” drift into gazey waters, where shimmering guitars and haunting vocal stacks tread alongside Alcest. The opening riff on “Barrow” reminds me of a cross between Helloween’s “Future World” and something off Avatar’s Feathers & Flesh, casting ties to genres I never previously linked to Fen. Meanwhile, closing track “Moor” begins with sparkling builds akin to Saor and Agalloch, but when the atmosphere gives way to melody,4 I suddenly hear mid-aughts Amon Amarth. Everything on Mourning Earth points to a band harnessing a vast reach of styles and influences and fusing them into a vision uniquely their own.

Given Mourning Earth’s eclectic backdrop, its cohesion and effectiveness remain refreshingly intact. Throughout, Fen’s jaw-droppingly gorgeous textures harken to primordial environs that imbue the album with nature’s innate beauty. Mourning Earth’s midsection broods within layers of reverb and melancholy, entrancing listeners with hypnotic refrains and crystalline guitar work. “Massif,” though, kicks up past the halfway point, recalling the groove and melody from its first half while dialing up the heft and drama. “Techtonic” and “Barrow” both charge out in rollicking fashion, hitting hard early on. “Barrow” even permutates melodies from “Tectonic”‘s midsection, tethering the two songs in a satisfying harmony that took me many listens to notice and appreciate. Bookends “Glacier” and “Moor” round out Mourning Earth’s synchronicity as the longest tracks on the album, supplying grandeur and gravitas that ensure it begins and ends with fully baked moods.

In the past, Fen’s releases initially fascinated me yet lacked the staying power to compel frequent visits despite stellar moments. Mourning Earth changes that, and its forty-seven-minute runtime proves an incredible boon as the band expertly strikes the balance between anticipation and payoff. And despite being Fen’s shortest LP to date, Mourning Earth achieves a remarkable diversity of sounds and influences without ever sacrificing its singular identity. With the bloat plaguing earlier albums gone, not much else requires attention. More space within the mix would give the wealth of sounds a bit more breathing room, particularly on busier songs like “Tectonic” and “Barrow,” and “Abyssal Plain” doesn’t quite live up to the heights of other tracks. In all, though, Mourning Earth stands uncontested as my favorite Fen album to date.

Mourning Earth’s magic takes time to gestate, and over my repeated listens Fen’s hooks unfurled and took root as I helplessly succumbed to their enthralling collection of swamp songs. The Watcher’s spritely and ethereal guitars weave melodic threads throughout, even during atmospheric passages, and his withered rasps and roars scrape like the dry crackle of leaves while the wistful cleans brim with forlorn charm. Mourning Earth bursts at the seams with ideas and styles, and it continues to entice me as my time with this review draws nigh. I’m unclear on when Elemental Part Two may arrive or what it will be about, but Part One lets listeners know that this trio has plenty more to say before they Fenish.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

London, England’s Fen has a storied history at AMG, with five reviews spread across three different writers. The illustrious Madam X reviewed them thrice with mixed results, followed by Doom_et_Al’s laudatory commentary on The Dead Light and, most recently, Cherd’s favorable-but-less-impressed impression of Monuments to Absence. You should read their words because they’re excellent writers,1 but the upshot of their analysis is that Fen often crafts gorgeous layers of music that sometimes lose focus or take too long to spool out. Imagine my delight, then, when I discovered Fen’s newest album, Elemental Part One: Mourning Earth only runs forty-seven minutes.2 While the overall album length suggests improved self-editing, Mourning Earth is the first part of a greater effort and carries the risk of either feeling incomplete or disguising bloat between multiple releases. In the end, does Fen free their songwriting from the mires that held back some previous albums?

Throughout Mourning Earth, Fen conjures familiar reference points while evoking less obvious connections as well. Opener “Glacier” reminds me of “Storm Son,” the opening track to Enslaved’s E, with its prog-leaning clean guitars playing over galloping blast beats and beautifully written choral arrangements. The last third of “Glacier” and follow-up “Techtonic” rumble and quake with calls to Blood Mountain-era Mastodon,3 while “Massif” and “Abyssal Plain” drift into gazey waters, where shimmering guitars and haunting vocal stacks tread alongside Alcest. The opening riff on “Barrow” reminds me of a cross between Helloween’s “Future World” and something off Avatar’s Feathers & Flesh, casting ties to genres I never previously linked to Fen. Meanwhile, closing track “Moor” begins with sparkling builds akin to Saor and Agalloch, but when the atmosphere gives way to melody,4 I suddenly hear mid-aughts Amon Amarth. Everything on Mourning Earth points to a band harnessing a vast reach of styles and influences and fusing them into a vision uniquely their own.

Given Mourning Earth’s eclectic backdrop, its cohesion and effectiveness remain refreshingly intact. Throughout, Fen’s jaw-droppingly gorgeous textures harken to primordial environs that imbue the album with nature’s innate beauty. Mourning Earth’s midsection broods within layers of reverb and melancholy, entrancing listeners with hypnotic refrains and crystalline guitar work. “Massif,” though, kicks up past the halfway point, recalling the groove and melody from its first half while dialing up the heft and drama. “Techtonic” and “Barrow” both charge out in rollicking fashion, hitting hard early on. “Barrow” even permutates melodies from “Tectonic”‘s midsection, tethering the two songs in a satisfying harmony that took me many listens to notice and appreciate. Bookends “Glacier” and “Moor” round out Mourning Earth’s synchronicity as the longest tracks on the album, supplying grandeur and gravitas that ensure it begins and ends with fully baked moods.

In the past, Fen’s releases initially fascinated me yet lacked the staying power to compel frequent visits despite stellar moments. Mourning Earth changes that, and its forty-seven-minute runtime proves an incredible boon as the band expertly strikes the balance between anticipation and payoff. And despite being Fen’s shortest LP to date, Mourning Earth achieves a remarkable diversity of sounds and influences without ever sacrificing its singular identity. With the bloat plaguing earlier albums gone, not much else requires attention. More space within the mix would give the wealth of sounds a bit more breathing room, particularly on busier songs like “Tectonic” and “Barrow,” and “Abyssal Plain” doesn’t quite live up to the heights of other tracks. In all, though, Mourning Earth stands uncontested as my favorite Fen album to date.

Mourning Earth’s magic takes time to gestate, and over my repeated listens Fen’s hooks unfurled and took root as I helplessly succumbed to their enthralling collection of swamp songs. The Watcher’s spritely and ethereal guitars weave melodic threads throughout, even during atmospheric passages, and his withered rasps and roars scrape like the dry crackle of leaves while the wistful cleans brim with forlorn charm. Mourning Earth bursts at the seams with ideas and styles, and it continues to entice me as my time with this review draws nigh. I’m unclear on when Elemental Part Two may arrive or what it will be about, but Part One lets listeners know that this trio has plenty more to say before they Fenish.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

London, England’s Fen has a storied history at AMG, with five reviews spread across three different writers. The illustrious Madam X reviewed them thrice with mixed results, followed by Doom_et_Al’s laudatory commentary on The Dead Light and, most recently, Cherd’s favorable-but-less-impressed impression of Monuments to Absence. You should read their words because they’re excellent writers,1 but the upshot of their analysis is that Fen often crafts gorgeous layers of music that sometimes lose focus or take too long to spool out. Imagine my delight, then, when I discovered Fen’s newest album, Elemental Part One: Mourning Earth only runs forty-seven minutes.2 While the overall album length suggests improved self-editing, Mourning Earth is the first part of a greater effort and carries the risk of either feeling incomplete or disguising bloat between multiple releases. In the end, does Fen free their songwriting from the mires that held back some previous albums?

Throughout Mourning Earth, Fen conjures familiar reference points while evoking less obvious connections as well. Opener “Glacier” reminds me of “Storm Son,” the opening track to Enslaved’s E, with its prog-leaning clean guitars playing over galloping blast beats and beautifully written choral arrangements. The last third of “Glacier” and follow-up “Techtonic” rumble and quake with calls to Blood Mountain-era Mastodon,3 while “Massif” and “Abyssal Plain” drift into gazey waters, where shimmering guitars and haunting vocal stacks tread alongside Alcest. The opening riff on “Barrow” reminds me of a cross between Helloween’s “Future World” and something off Avatar’s Feathers & Flesh, casting ties to genres I never previously linked to Fen. Meanwhile, closing track “Moor” begins with sparkling builds akin to Saor and Agalloch, but when the atmosphere gives way to melody,4 I suddenly hear mid-aughts Amon Amarth. Everything on Mourning Earth points to a band harnessing a vast reach of styles and influences and fusing them into a vision uniquely their own.

Given Mourning Earth’s eclectic backdrop, its cohesion and effectiveness remain refreshingly intact. Throughout, Fen’s jaw-droppingly gorgeous textures harken to primordial environs that imbue the album with nature’s innate beauty. Mourning Earth’s midsection broods within layers of reverb and melancholy, entrancing listeners with hypnotic refrains and crystalline guitar work. “Massif,” though, kicks up past the halfway point, recalling the groove and melody from its first half while dialing up the heft and drama. “Techtonic” and “Barrow” both charge out in rollicking fashion, hitting hard early on. “Barrow” even permutates melodies from “Tectonic”‘s midsection, tethering the two songs in a satisfying harmony that took me many listens to notice and appreciate. Bookends “Glacier” and “Moor” round out Mourning Earth’s synchronicity as the longest tracks on the album, supplying grandeur and gravitas that ensure it begins and ends with fully baked moods.

In the past, Fen’s releases initially fascinated me yet lacked the staying power to compel frequent visits despite stellar moments. Mourning Earth changes that, and its forty-seven-minute runtime proves an incredible boon as the band expertly strikes the balance between anticipation and payoff. And despite being Fen’s shortest LP to date, Mourning Earth achieves a remarkable diversity of sounds and influences without ever sacrificing its singular identity. With the bloat plaguing earlier albums gone, not much else requires attention. More space within the mix would give the wealth of sounds a bit more breathing room, particularly on busier songs like “Tectonic” and “Barrow,” and “Abyssal Plain” doesn’t quite live up to the heights of other tracks. In all, though, Mourning Earth stands uncontested as my favorite Fen album to date.

Mourning Earth’s magic takes time to gestate, and over my repeated listens Fen’s hooks unfurled and took root as I helplessly succumbed to their enthralling collection of swamp songs. The Watcher’s spritely and ethereal guitars weave melodic threads throughout, even during atmospheric passages, and his withered rasps and roars scrape like the dry crackle of leaves while the wistful cleans brim with forlorn charm. Mourning Earth bursts at the seams with ideas and styles, and it continues to entice me as my time with this review draws nigh. I’m unclear on when Elemental Part Two may arrive or what it will be about, but Part One lets listeners know that this trio has plenty more to say before they Fenish.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

London, England’s Fen has a storied history at AMG, with five reviews spread across three different writers. The illustrious Madam X reviewed them thrice with mixed results, followed by Doom_et_Al’s laudatory commentary on The Dead Light and, most recently, Cherd’s favorable-but-less-impressed impression of Monuments to Absence. You should read their words because they’re excellent writers,1 but the upshot of their analysis is that Fen often crafts gorgeous layers of music that sometimes lose focus or take too long to spool out. Imagine my delight, then, when I discovered Fen’s newest album, Elemental Part One: Mourning Earth only runs forty-seven minutes.2 While the overall album length suggests improved self-editing, Mourning Earth is the first part of a greater effort and carries the risk of either feeling incomplete or disguising bloat between multiple releases. In the end, does Fen free their songwriting from the mires that held back some previous albums?

Throughout Mourning Earth, Fen conjures familiar reference points while evoking less obvious connections as well. Opener “Glacier” reminds me of “Storm Son,” the opening track to Enslaved’s E, with its prog-leaning clean guitars playing over galloping blast beats and beautifully written choral arrangements. The last third of “Glacier” and follow-up “Techtonic” rumble and quake with calls to Blood Mountain-era Mastodon,3 while “Massif” and “Abyssal Plain” drift into gazey waters, where shimmering guitars and haunting vocal stacks tread alongside Alcest. The opening riff on “Barrow” reminds me of a cross between Helloween’s “Future World” and something off Avatar’s Feathers & Flesh, casting ties to genres I never previously linked to Fen. Meanwhile, closing track “Moor” begins with sparkling builds akin to Saor and Agalloch, but when the atmosphere gives way to melody,4 I suddenly hear mid-aughts Amon Amarth. Everything on Mourning Earth points to a band harnessing a vast reach of styles and influences and fusing them into a vision uniquely their own.

Given Mourning Earth’s eclectic backdrop, its cohesion and effectiveness remain refreshingly intact. Throughout, Fen’s jaw-droppingly gorgeous textures harken to primordial environs that imbue the album with nature’s innate beauty. Mourning Earth’s midsection broods within layers of reverb and melancholy, entrancing listeners with hypnotic refrains and crystalline guitar work. “Massif,” though, kicks up past the halfway point, recalling the groove and melody from its first half while dialing up the heft and drama. “Techtonic” and “Barrow” both charge out in rollicking fashion, hitting hard early on. “Barrow” even permutates melodies from “Tectonic”‘s midsection, tethering the two songs in a satisfying harmony that took me many listens to notice and appreciate. Bookends “Glacier” and “Moor” round out Mourning Earth’s synchronicity as the longest tracks on the album, supplying grandeur and gravitas that ensure it begins and ends with fully baked moods.

In the past, Fen’s releases initially fascinated me yet lacked the staying power to compel frequent visits despite stellar moments. Mourning Earth changes that, and its forty-seven-minute runtime proves an incredible boon as the band expertly strikes the balance between anticipation and payoff. And despite being Fen’s shortest LP to date, Mourning Earth achieves a remarkable diversity of sounds and influences without ever sacrificing its singular identity. With the bloat plaguing earlier albums gone, not much else requires attention. More space within the mix would give the wealth of sounds a bit more breathing room, particularly on busier songs like “Tectonic” and “Barrow,” and “Abyssal Plain” doesn’t quite live up to the heights of other tracks. In all, though, Mourning Earth stands uncontested as my favorite Fen album to date.

Mourning Earth’s magic takes time to gestate, and over my repeated listens Fen’s hooks unfurled and took root as I helplessly succumbed to their enthralling collection of swamp songs. The Watcher’s spritely and ethereal guitars weave melodic threads throughout, even during atmospheric passages, and his withered rasps and roars scrape like the dry crackle of leaves while the wistful cleans brim with forlorn charm. Mourning Earth bursts at the seams with ideas and styles, and it continues to entice me as my time with this review draws nigh. I’m unclear on when Elemental Part Two may arrive or what it will be about, but Part One lets listeners know that this trio has plenty more to say before they Fenish.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

London, England’s Fen has a storied history at AMG, with five reviews spread across three different writers. The illustrious Madam X reviewed them thrice with mixed results, followed by Doom_et_Al’s laudatory commentary on The Dead Light and, most recently, Cherd’s favorable-but-less-impressed impression of Monuments to Absence. You should read their words because they’re excellent writers,1 but the upshot of their analysis is that Fen often crafts gorgeous layers of music that sometimes lose focus or take too long to spool out. Imagine my delight, then, when I discovered Fen’s newest album, Elemental Part One: Mourning Earth only runs forty-seven minutes.2 While the overall album length suggests improved self-editing, Mourning Earth is the first part of a greater effort and carries the risk of either feeling incomplete or disguising bloat between multiple releases. In the end, does Fen free their songwriting from the mires that held back some previous albums?

Throughout Mourning Earth, Fen conjures familiar reference points while evoking less obvious connections as well. Opener “Glacier” reminds me of “Storm Son,” the opening track to Enslaved’s E, with its prog-leaning clean guitars playing over galloping blast beats and beautifully written choral arrangements. The last third of “Glacier” and follow-up “Techtonic” rumble and quake with calls to Blood Mountain-era Mastodon,3 while “Massif” and “Abyssal Plain” drift into gazey waters, where shimmering guitars and haunting vocal stacks tread alongside Alcest. The opening riff on “Barrow” reminds me of a cross between Helloween’s “Future World” and something off Avatar’s Feathers & Flesh, casting ties to genres I never previously linked to Fen. Meanwhile, closing track “Moor” begins with sparkling builds akin to Saor and Agalloch, but when the atmosphere gives way to melody,4 I suddenly hear mid-aughts Amon Amarth. Everything on Mourning Earth points to a band harnessing a vast reach of styles and influences and fusing them into a vision uniquely their own.

Given Mourning Earth’s eclectic backdrop, its cohesion and effectiveness remain refreshingly intact. Throughout, Fen’s jaw-droppingly gorgeous textures harken to primordial environs that imbue the album with nature’s innate beauty. Mourning Earth’s midsection broods within layers of reverb and melancholy, entrancing listeners with hypnotic refrains and crystalline guitar work. “Massif,” though, kicks up past the halfway point, recalling the groove and melody from its first half while dialing up the heft and drama. “Techtonic” and “Barrow” both charge out in rollicking fashion, hitting hard early on. “Barrow” even permutates melodies from “Tectonic”‘s midsection, tethering the two songs in a satisfying harmony that took me many listens to notice and appreciate. Bookends “Glacier” and “Moor” round out Mourning Earth’s synchronicity as the longest tracks on the album, supplying grandeur and gravitas that ensure it begins and ends with fully baked moods.

In the past, Fen’s releases initially fascinated me yet lacked the staying power to compel frequent visits despite stellar moments. Mourning Earth changes that, and its forty-seven-minute runtime proves an incredible boon as the band expertly strikes the balance between anticipation and payoff. And despite being Fen’s shortest LP to date, Mourning Earth achieves a remarkable diversity of sounds and influences without ever sacrificing its singular identity. With the bloat plaguing earlier albums gone, not much else requires attention. More space within the mix would give the wealth of sounds a bit more breathing room, particularly on busier songs like “Tectonic” and “Barrow,” and “Abyssal Plain” doesn’t quite live up to the heights of other tracks. In all, though, Mourning Earth stands uncontested as my favorite Fen album to date.

Mourning Earth’s magic takes time to gestate, and over my repeated listens Fen’s hooks unfurled and took root as I helplessly succumbed to their enthralling collection of swamp songs. The Watcher’s spritely and ethereal guitars weave melodic threads throughout, even during atmospheric passages, and his withered rasps and roars scrape like the dry crackle of leaves while the wistful cleans brim with forlorn charm. Mourning Earth bursts at the seams with ideas and styles, and it continues to entice me as my time with this review draws nigh. I’m unclear on when Elemental Part Two may arrive or what it will be about, but Part One lets listeners know that this trio has plenty more to say before they Fenish.

Rating: Great
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Prophecy Productions
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: August 21st, 2026

Wer muss hier nicht an seine HR-Abteilung denken? 😂🤘🏻

Also ich hätte Herrn Hegg die Chance gegeben! 🤷‍♂️

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

#amonamarth #metal

Wer muss hier nicht an seine HR-Abteilung denken? 😂🤘🏻

Also ich hätte Herrn Hegg die Chance gegeben! 🤷‍♂️

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

#amonamarth #metal

Wer muss hier nicht an seine HR-Abteilung denken? 😂🤘🏻

Also ich hätte Herrn Hegg die Chance gegeben! 🤷‍♂️

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

#amonamarth #metal

Wer muss hier nicht an seine HR-Abteilung denken? 😂🤘🏻

Also ich hätte Herrn Hegg die Chance gegeben! 🤷‍♂️

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

#amonamarth #metal

Wer muss hier nicht an seine HR-Abteilung denken? 😂🤘🏻

Also ich hätte Herrn Hegg die Chance gegeben! 🤷‍♂️

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

#amonamarth #metal

The video is a funny comedy skit with Johan Hegg, singer of the metal band Amon Amarth. He applies for an IT internship to take time off before touring. The interviewer gets his name wrong all the time. In the end he does not get the job because he lacks living abroad on his CV.
#AmonAmarth #JohanHegg #ITInternship #Metal #ComedySkit #Youtube

https://youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

The video is a funny comedy skit with Johan Hegg, singer of the metal band Amon Amarth. He applies for an IT internship to take time off before touring. The interviewer gets his name wrong all the time. In the end he does not get the job because he lacks living abroad on his CV.
#AmonAmarth #JohanHegg #ITInternship #Metal #ComedySkit #Youtube

https://youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

The video is a funny comedy skit with Johan Hegg, singer of the metal band Amon Amarth. He applies for an IT internship to take time off before touring. The interviewer gets his name wrong all the time. In the end he does not get the job because he lacks living abroad on his CV.
#AmonAmarth #JohanHegg #ITInternship #Metal #ComedySkit #Youtube

https://youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

The video is a funny comedy skit with Johan Hegg, singer of the metal band Amon Amarth. He applies for an IT internship to take time off before touring. The interviewer gets his name wrong all the time. In the end he does not get the job because he lacks living abroad on his CV.
#AmonAmarth #JohanHegg #ITInternship #Metal #ComedySkit #Youtube

https://youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

The video is a funny comedy skit with Johan Hegg, singer of the metal band Amon Amarth. He applies for an IT internship to take time off before touring. The interviewer gets his name wrong all the time. In the end he does not get the job because he lacks living abroad on his CV.
#AmonAmarth #JohanHegg #ITInternship #Metal #ComedySkit #Youtube

https://youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

OK, YouTube hat mich vor dem ersten Kaffee geschafft 🤘🤣

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

#metal #it #AmonAmarth

OK, YouTube hat mich vor dem ersten Kaffee geschafft 🤘🤣

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

#metal #it #AmonAmarth

OK, YouTube hat mich vor dem ersten Kaffee geschafft 🤘🤣

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

#metal #it #AmonAmarth

OK, YouTube hat mich vor dem ersten Kaffee geschafft 🤘🤣

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/BaCIuTbsIo8

#metal #it #AmonAmarth

This week on Matt's MoshCast we're talking awesome, funny and ridiculous band names. What do Amon Amarth have to do with Frodo and is Lorna Shore a Batman tribute band? Listen to find out!

#podcast #metalpodcast #amonamarth #stratovarius #dyingfetus #fitforanautopsy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ju-UC6prqs

This week on Matt's MoshCast we're talking awesome, funny and ridiculous band names. What do Amon Amarth have to do with Frodo and is Lorna Shore a Batman tribute band? Listen to find out!

#podcast #metalpodcast #amonamarth #stratovarius #dyingfetus #fitforanautopsy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ju-UC6prqs

This week on Matt's MoshCast we're talking awesome, funny and ridiculous band names. What do Amon Amarth have to do with Frodo and is Lorna Shore a Batman tribute band? Listen to find out!

#podcast #metalpodcast #amonamarth #stratovarius #dyingfetus #fitforanautopsy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ju-UC6prqs

This week on Matt's MoshCast we're talking awesome, funny and ridiculous band names. What do Amon Amarth have to do with Frodo and is Lorna Shore a Batman tribute band? Listen to find out!

#podcast #metalpodcast #amonamarth #stratovarius #dyingfetus #fitforanautopsy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ju-UC6prqs

Johan Hegg de Amon Amarth derriba los grandes mitos sobre los vikingos: «Eran conocidos por su impecable higiene» | vía #NaciónRock

https://www.nacionrock.com/johan-hegg-de-amon-amarth-derriba-los-grandes-mitos-sobre-los-vikingos-eran-conocidos-por-su-impecable-higiene/

#amonamarth #johanhegg

Amon Amarth have announced their 13th studio album, The Allfather Awakens, arriving in October via Metal Blade Records. The band has also unleashed a video for their new single “Gjallarhorn.”

Details: https://metalinsider.net/metal-on-metal/amon-amarth-unleash-gjallarhorn-video-new-album-arriving-in-october

#AmonAmarth #TheAllfatherAwakens #Gjallarhorn #MetalBladeRecords #NewMusic

Amon Amarth have announced their 13th studio album, The Allfather Awakens, arriving in October via Metal Blade Records. The band has also unleashed a video for their new single “Gjallarhorn.”

Details: https://metalinsider.net/metal-on-metal/amon-amarth-unleash-gjallarhorn-video-new-album-arriving-in-october

#AmonAmarth #TheAllfatherAwakens #Gjallarhorn #MetalBladeRecords #NewMusic

https://www.europesays.com/be-fr/185308/ AMON AMARTH : les détails du nouvel album The Allfather Awakens ; clip vidéo de la chanson « Gjallarhorn » #AmonAmarth #BE #BEFr #Belgique #Belgium #Divertissement #Entertainment #Music #Musique

https://www.europesays.com/ch-fr/229768/ AMON AMARTH : les détails du nouvel album The Allfather Awakens ; clip vidéo de la chanson « Gjallarhorn » #AmonAmarth #Divertissement #Entertainment #Music #Musique #Suisse

Los vikingos están de regreso: Amon Amarth anuncia nuevo álbum de estudio y libera adelanto | vía #NaciónRock

https://www.nacionrock.com/los-vikingos-estan-de-regreso-amon-amarth-anuncia-nuevo-album-de-estudio-y-libera-adelanto/

#amonamarth #metal

Fangen wir den Tag mal entspannt an

https://song.link/y/-Y0OKTuMICM

#AmonAmarth

Moin

Fangen wir den Tag mal entspannt an

https://song.link/y/-Y0OKTuMICM

#AmonAmarth

Moin

Fangen wir den Tag mal entspannt an

https://song.link/y/-Y0OKTuMICM

#AmonAmarth

Moin

Fangen wir den Tag mal entspannt an

https://song.link/y/-Y0OKTuMICM

#AmonAmarth

Moin

Fangen wir den Tag mal entspannt an

https://song.link/y/-Y0OKTuMICM

#AmonAmarth

Moin

https://www.europesays.com/es/672847/ Amon Amarth anuncian nuevo disco: ‘The Allfather Awakens’ #AmonAmarth #Entertainment #Entretenimiento #ES #España #MetalBlade #Music #Música #Noticias #Spain #video #VikingMetal

I know I didn’t have a single good thing to say about #AmonAmarth’s last single—the acoustic fire place thingy one. But this new track absolutely slaps!

https://musiccloud.io/ZoE9W

I know I didn’t have a single good thing to say about #AmonAmarth’s last single—the acoustic fire place thingy one. But this new track absolutely slaps!

https://musiccloud.io/ZoE9W

I know I didn’t have a single good thing to say about #AmonAmarth’s last single—the acoustic fire place thingy one. But this new track absolutely slaps!

https://musiccloud.io/ZoE9W

I know I didn’t have a single good thing to say about #AmonAmarth’s last single—the acoustic fire place thingy one. But this new track absolutely slaps!

https://musiccloud.io/ZoE9W

I know I didn’t have a single good thing to say about #AmonAmarth’s last single—the acoustic fire place thingy one. But this new track absolutely slaps!

https://musiccloud.io/ZoE9W

Okay. Vorbestellung inklusive #Ticket zur Release Show in der #ZecheCarl in #Essen - wen von Euch sehe ich da? #amonamarth #metal #TheAllfatherAwakens #Gjallarhorn 🤘

https://www.europesays.com/es/671819/ Nuevo disco y single de AMON AMARTH. Reedición especial de TANK. SLAUGHTER TO PREVAIL estrenan vídeo. #AmonAmarth #Entertainment #Entretenimiento #ES #España #Music #Música #SLAUGHTERTOPREVAIL #Spain #TANK

Ich sag ja, der Herbst kann kommen... #amonamarth #metal #TheAllfatherAwakens #Gjallarhorn 🤘

https://blabbermouth.net/news/amon-amarth-announces-new-album-the-allfather-awakens-shares-gjallarhorn-single

https://www.europesays.com/at/289178/ Amon Amarth: Neues Album THE ALLFATHER AWAKENS kommt #AmonAmarth #AT #Austria #Entertainment #ExklusiveShow #Gjallarhorn #Music #Musik #NeuesAlbum #Oktober #OlaviMikkonen #Österreich #THEALLFATHERAWAKENS #Unterhaltung #Upphaf #ZecheCarl

Now that's what I call a proper campfire #acoustic song 🤘

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0EPPzy6s_k

#AmonAmarth #metal #music #musicvideo #youtube

Now that's what I call a proper campfire #acoustic song 🤘

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0EPPzy6s_k

#AmonAmarth #metal #music #musicvideo #youtube

Now that's what I call a proper campfire #acoustic song 🤘

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0EPPzy6s_k

#AmonAmarth #metal #music #musicvideo #youtube

Now that's what I call a proper campfire #acoustic song 🤘

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0EPPzy6s_k

#AmonAmarth #metal #music #musicvideo #youtube

Now that's what I call a proper campfire #acoustic song 🤘

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0EPPzy6s_k

#AmonAmarth #metal #music #musicvideo #youtube

AMON AMARTH (Suècia) presenta nou single: "Gjallarhorn" #AmonAmarth #MelodicDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Suècia #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

AMON AMARTH (Suècia) presenta nou single: "Gjallarhorn" #AmonAmarth #MelodicDeathMetal #Juliol2026 #Suècia #NouSingle #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

https://www.europesays.com/hu/180892/ Index – Kultúr – Úgy hörög ez a viking férfi, hogy attól mindenkinek, aki hallja, krákognia kell #AmonAmarth #dal #Entertainment #HU #Hungarian #Hungary #klip #koncert #kultúr #Magyar #Magyarország #metál #Szórakozás #Zene

https://www.europesays.com/es/668051/ Título para el disco de SAXON. Clip del rodaje de AMON AMARTH. SHADOWS FALL celebran su aniversario. #AmonAmarth #Entertainment #Entretenimiento #ES #España #Music #Música #SAXON #SHADOWSFALL #Spain

Amon Amarth have released their first-ever acoustic song, “Upphaf”

Details: https://metalinsider.net/video/amon-amarth-release-first-ever-acoustic-song-upphaf

#AmonAmarth #Upphaf #MetalBladeRecords

AMON AMARTH - Upphaf

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0EPPzy6s_k

#NowPlaying #FediRadio #UnoRadio #Music #AmonAmarth