#cnocantursa — Public Fediverse posts

New post: Festival Review: Tynebound Festival 2026 (Day Two) – Anarchy Brew Co, Newcastle (6th September 2026) https://moshville.co.uk/reviews/gig-review/2026/09/festival-review-tynebound-festival-2026-day-two-anarchy-brew-co-newcastle-6th-september-2026/ #BloodCountess #CnocAnTursa #Conifère #Coscradh

New post: Festival Review: Tynebound Festival 2026 (Day Two) – Anarchy Brew Co, Newcastle (6th September 2026) https://moshville.co.uk/reviews/gig-review/2026/09/festival-review-tynebound-festival-2026-day-two-anarchy-brew-co-newcastle-6th-september-2026/ #BloodCountess #CnocAnTursa #Conifère #Coscradh

Hanternoz – A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz Review

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2.5 #2026 #AHedanNozaNozaNoz #AntiqRecords #Aug26 #BlackMetal #CnocAnTursa #Entertainment #FolkMetal #FrenchMetal #Grylle #Hanternoz #MedievalBlackMetal #review #Reviews #UK #UnitedKingdom #Vehemence
https://www.newsbeep.com/uk/759062/

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m going to hear until I press play. This is, of course, due to the fact that folk music in general varies so widely depending on the region from which it originates. Hyver, who runs the label Antiq Records in France, has been crafting medieval-style folk/black metal under various musical projects for some time now. Twelve found plenty to praise in 2021’s Au Fleuve de Loire, notwithstanding its patchwork nature. The latest collection of Hanternoz songs is each about a different type of devil from Breton folklore. From what I can gather, A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz loosely translates as “At Night, At Night, At Night” in Breton. Does this album go bump in the night or does it fall with a flat thud?

A Hed an Noz should sound familiar to those who have heard Hyver’s other work. The bread and butter is still the heroic trem-picked guitars and gallant drumming that one can also hear from Véhémence or (to a lesser extent) Grylle. Hyver’s vocals are as chameleonic as ever, adopting many different shades of demonic rasps, growls, and groans that embody the album’s theme. This diversity in vocal styles is fortunate because the diversity of instrumentation has greatly diminished. This time, Hanternoz mostly takes the Cnoc An Tursa approach of examining folk music through a metal lens without much in the way of actual folk instruments, which are sequestered to the lone instrumental interlude “Pe trouz War an Douar.”

The fact that the bag of tricks from which Hanternoz draws is much smaller ends up holding back A Hed an Noz. It’s a sizable step backward from Au Fleuve de Loire, where the folk music and synths were woven directly into the black metal in a more energetic and dynamic fashion. Hanternoz may have taken to heart Twelve’s prior observation of the compositions feeling stitched together because A Hed an Noz is certainly more cohesive, but at the cost of much of its zeal. To be fair, this is not an issue across the board. Most notably, “La Lessive des Trépassés” is punchy and to the point, with Joanna Maeyens’1 guest vocals overlapping enchantingly with the predominant growls. The production of A Hed an Noz is nice and crisp, especially with regard to the bass mixing, which greatly enriches the guitar lines (“La Peste à Limoges,” “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt”).

Yet, these promising core elements of A Hed an Noz are undermined by an overreliance on repetition. Opener “Sur le Chemin des fées” is somehow galloping and plodding at the same time, the triumphant guitars becoming muted as they build up again and again towards a payoff that never comes after nearly 12 minutes. Closing track “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt” gets stuck in a mid-paced rut, resulting in a more lethargic sensation than should be warranted given the valiant guitar leads. The long-form songwriting in “La Peste à Limoges” fares better, centered around an infectious, bouncy groove which gets my head bobbing, though the midsection is a tad protracted and disjointed. The charismatic vocal delivery helps but isn’t enough to overcome the fact that no song on A Hed an Noz is justified in being over 6 minutes long, yet most of them are.

Ultimately, A Hed an Noz left less and less of an impression on me the more time I spent with it. The delightful unpredictability from Au Fleuve de Loire is simply not present here. I am left puzzled as to why Hanternoz decided to discard the majority of the toolkit that served them well in the past. There is a fair amount of decent material here that would have done better without as much padding, and it’s worth a listen by anyone who enjoys Hyver’s take on medieval black metal. Just expect less medieval and more monotony this time around.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: antiqofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Hanternoz-Pagan-de-Bretagne
Releases Worldwide: August 3rd, 2026

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m going to hear until I press play. This is, of course, due to the fact that folk music in general varies so widely depending on the region from which it originates. Hyver, who runs the label Antiq Records in France, has been crafting medieval-style folk/black metal under various musical projects for some time now. Twelve found plenty to praise in 2021’s Au Fleuve de Loire, notwithstanding its patchwork nature. The latest collection of Hanternoz songs is each about a different type of devil from Breton folklore. From what I can gather, A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz loosely translates as “At Night, At Night, At Night” in Breton. Does this album go bump in the night or does it fall with a flat thud?

A Hed an Noz should sound familiar to those who have heard Hyver’s other work. The bread and butter is still the heroic trem-picked guitars and gallant drumming that one can also hear from Véhémence or (to a lesser extent) Grylle. Hyver’s vocals are as chameleonic as ever, adopting many different shades of demonic rasps, growls, and groans that embody the album’s theme. This diversity in vocal styles is fortunate because the diversity of instrumentation has greatly diminished. This time, Hanternoz mostly takes the Cnoc An Tursa approach of examining folk music through a metal lens without much in the way of actual folk instruments, which are sequestered to the lone instrumental interlude “Pe trouz War an Douar.”

The fact that the bag of tricks from which Hanternoz draws is much smaller ends up holding back A Hed an Noz. It’s a sizable step backward from Au Fleuve de Loire, where the folk music and synths were woven directly into the black metal in a more energetic and dynamic fashion. Hanternoz may have taken to heart Twelve’s prior observation of the compositions feeling stitched together because A Hed an Noz is certainly more cohesive, but at the cost of much of its zeal. To be fair, this is not an issue across the board. Most notably, “La Lessive des Trépassés” is punchy and to the point, with Joanna Maeyens’1 guest vocals overlapping enchantingly with the predominant growls. The production of A Hed an Noz is nice and crisp, especially with regard to the bass mixing, which greatly enriches the guitar lines (“La Peste à Limoges,” “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt”).

Yet, these promising core elements of A Hed an Noz are undermined by an overreliance on repetition. Opener “Sur le Chemin des fées” is somehow galloping and plodding at the same time, the triumphant guitars becoming muted as they build up again and again towards a payoff that never comes after nearly 12 minutes. Closing track “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt” gets stuck in a mid-paced rut, resulting in a more lethargic sensation than should be warranted given the valiant guitar leads. The long-form songwriting in “La Peste à Limoges” fares better, centered around an infectious, bouncy groove which gets my head bobbing, though the midsection is a tad protracted and disjointed. The charismatic vocal delivery helps but isn’t enough to overcome the fact that no song on A Hed an Noz is justified in being over 6 minutes long, yet most of them are.

Ultimately, A Hed an Noz left less and less of an impression on me the more time I spent with it. The delightful unpredictability from Au Fleuve de Loire is simply not present here. I am left puzzled as to why Hanternoz decided to discard the majority of the toolkit that served them well in the past. There is a fair amount of decent material here that would have done better without as much padding, and it’s worth a listen by anyone who enjoys Hyver’s take on medieval black metal. Just expect less medieval and more monotony this time around.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: antiqofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Hanternoz-Pagan-de-Bretagne
Releases Worldwide: August 3rd, 2026

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m going to hear until I press play. This is, of course, due to the fact that folk music in general varies so widely depending on the region from which it originates. Hyver, who runs the label Antiq Records in France, has been crafting medieval-style folk/black metal under various musical projects for some time now. Twelve found plenty to praise in 2021’s Au Fleuve de Loire, notwithstanding its patchwork nature. The latest collection of Hanternoz songs is each about a different type of devil from Breton folklore. From what I can gather, A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz loosely translates as “At Night, At Night, At Night” in Breton. Does this album go bump in the night or does it fall with a flat thud?

A Hed an Noz should sound familiar to those who have heard Hyver’s other work. The bread and butter is still the heroic trem-picked guitars and gallant drumming that one can also hear from Véhémence or (to a lesser extent) Grylle. Hyver’s vocals are as chameleonic as ever, adopting many different shades of demonic rasps, growls, and groans that embody the album’s theme. This diversity in vocal styles is fortunate because the diversity of instrumentation has greatly diminished. This time, Hanternoz mostly takes the Cnoc An Tursa approach of examining folk music through a metal lens without much in the way of actual folk instruments, which are sequestered to the lone instrumental interlude “Pe trouz War an Douar.”

The fact that the bag of tricks from which Hanternoz draws is much smaller ends up holding back A Hed an Noz. It’s a sizable step backward from Au Fleuve de Loire, where the folk music and synths were woven directly into the black metal in a more energetic and dynamic fashion. Hanternoz may have taken to heart Twelve’s prior observation of the compositions feeling stitched together because A Hed an Noz is certainly more cohesive, but at the cost of much of its zeal. To be fair, this is not an issue across the board. Most notably, “La Lessive des Trépassés” is punchy and to the point, with Joanna Maeyens’1 guest vocals overlapping enchantingly with the predominant growls. The production of A Hed an Noz is nice and crisp, especially with regard to the bass mixing, which greatly enriches the guitar lines (“La Peste à Limoges,” “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt”).

Yet, these promising core elements of A Hed an Noz are undermined by an overreliance on repetition. Opener “Sur le Chemin des fées” is somehow galloping and plodding at the same time, the triumphant guitars becoming muted as they build up again and again towards a payoff that never comes after nearly 12 minutes. Closing track “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt” gets stuck in a mid-paced rut, resulting in a more lethargic sensation than should be warranted given the valiant guitar leads. The long-form songwriting in “La Peste à Limoges” fares better, centered around an infectious, bouncy groove which gets my head bobbing, though the midsection is a tad protracted and disjointed. The charismatic vocal delivery helps but isn’t enough to overcome the fact that no song on A Hed an Noz is justified in being over 6 minutes long, yet most of them are.

Ultimately, A Hed an Noz left less and less of an impression on me the more time I spent with it. The delightful unpredictability from Au Fleuve de Loire is simply not present here. I am left puzzled as to why Hanternoz decided to discard the majority of the toolkit that served them well in the past. There is a fair amount of decent material here that would have done better without as much padding, and it’s worth a listen by anyone who enjoys Hyver’s take on medieval black metal. Just expect less medieval and more monotony this time around.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: antiqofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Hanternoz-Pagan-de-Bretagne
Releases Worldwide: August 3rd, 2026

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m going to hear until I press play. This is, of course, due to the fact that folk music in general varies so widely depending on the region from which it originates. Hyver, who runs the label Antiq Records in France, has been crafting medieval-style folk/black metal under various musical projects for some time now. Twelve found plenty to praise in 2021’s Au Fleuve de Loire, notwithstanding its patchwork nature. The latest collection of Hanternoz songs is each about a different type of devil from Breton folklore. From what I can gather, A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz loosely translates as “At Night, At Night, At Night” in Breton. Does this album go bump in the night or does it fall with a flat thud?

A Hed an Noz should sound familiar to those who have heard Hyver’s other work. The bread and butter is still the heroic trem-picked guitars and gallant drumming that one can also hear from Véhémence or (to a lesser extent) Grylle. Hyver’s vocals are as chameleonic as ever, adopting many different shades of demonic rasps, growls, and groans that embody the album’s theme. This diversity in vocal styles is fortunate because the diversity of instrumentation has greatly diminished. This time, Hanternoz mostly takes the Cnoc An Tursa approach of examining folk music through a metal lens without much in the way of actual folk instruments, which are sequestered to the lone instrumental interlude “Pe trouz War an Douar.”

The fact that the bag of tricks from which Hanternoz draws is much smaller ends up holding back A Hed an Noz. It’s a sizable step backward from Au Fleuve de Loire, where the folk music and synths were woven directly into the black metal in a more energetic and dynamic fashion. Hanternoz may have taken to heart Twelve’s prior observation of the compositions feeling stitched together because A Hed an Noz is certainly more cohesive, but at the cost of much of its zeal. To be fair, this is not an issue across the board. Most notably, “La Lessive des Trépassés” is punchy and to the point, with Joanna Maeyens’1 guest vocals overlapping enchantingly with the predominant growls. The production of A Hed an Noz is nice and crisp, especially with regard to the bass mixing, which greatly enriches the guitar lines (“La Peste à Limoges,” “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt”).

Yet, these promising core elements of A Hed an Noz are undermined by an overreliance on repetition. Opener “Sur le Chemin des fées” is somehow galloping and plodding at the same time, the triumphant guitars becoming muted as they build up again and again towards a payoff that never comes after nearly 12 minutes. Closing track “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt” gets stuck in a mid-paced rut, resulting in a more lethargic sensation than should be warranted given the valiant guitar leads. The long-form songwriting in “La Peste à Limoges” fares better, centered around an infectious, bouncy groove which gets my head bobbing, though the midsection is a tad protracted and disjointed. The charismatic vocal delivery helps but isn’t enough to overcome the fact that no song on A Hed an Noz is justified in being over 6 minutes long, yet most of them are.

Ultimately, A Hed an Noz left less and less of an impression on me the more time I spent with it. The delightful unpredictability from Au Fleuve de Loire is simply not present here. I am left puzzled as to why Hanternoz decided to discard the majority of the toolkit that served them well in the past. There is a fair amount of decent material here that would have done better without as much padding, and it’s worth a listen by anyone who enjoys Hyver’s take on medieval black metal. Just expect less medieval and more monotony this time around.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: antiqofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Hanternoz-Pagan-de-Bretagne
Releases Worldwide: August 3rd, 2026

One of the things I enjoy most about folk metal is that I never know exactly what I’m going to hear until I press play. This is, of course, due to the fact that folk music in general varies so widely depending on the region from which it originates. Hyver, who runs the label Antiq Records in France, has been crafting medieval-style folk/black metal under various musical projects for some time now. Twelve found plenty to praise in 2021’s Au Fleuve de Loire, notwithstanding its patchwork nature. The latest collection of Hanternoz songs is each about a different type of devil from Breton folklore. From what I can gather, A Hed an Noz, a Noz, a Noz loosely translates as “At Night, At Night, At Night” in Breton. Does this album go bump in the night or does it fall with a flat thud?

A Hed an Noz should sound familiar to those who have heard Hyver’s other work. The bread and butter is still the heroic trem-picked guitars and gallant drumming that one can also hear from Véhémence or (to a lesser extent) Grylle. Hyver’s vocals are as chameleonic as ever, adopting many different shades of demonic rasps, growls, and groans that embody the album’s theme. This diversity in vocal styles is fortunate because the diversity of instrumentation has greatly diminished. This time, Hanternoz mostly takes the Cnoc An Tursa approach of examining folk music through a metal lens without much in the way of actual folk instruments, which are sequestered to the lone instrumental interlude “Pe trouz War an Douar.”

The fact that the bag of tricks from which Hanternoz draws is much smaller ends up holding back A Hed an Noz. It’s a sizable step backward from Au Fleuve de Loire, where the folk music and synths were woven directly into the black metal in a more energetic and dynamic fashion. Hanternoz may have taken to heart Twelve’s prior observation of the compositions feeling stitched together because A Hed an Noz is certainly more cohesive, but at the cost of much of its zeal. To be fair, this is not an issue across the board. Most notably, “La Lessive des Trépassés” is punchy and to the point, with Joanna Maeyens’1 guest vocals overlapping enchantingly with the predominant growls. The production of A Hed an Noz is nice and crisp, especially with regard to the bass mixing, which greatly enriches the guitar lines (“La Peste à Limoges,” “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt”).

Yet, these promising core elements of A Hed an Noz are undermined by an overreliance on repetition. Opener “Sur le Chemin des fées” is somehow galloping and plodding at the same time, the triumphant guitars becoming muted as they build up again and again towards a payoff that never comes after nearly 12 minutes. Closing track “Quand j’ai tué le Roi de la Forêt” gets stuck in a mid-paced rut, resulting in a more lethargic sensation than should be warranted given the valiant guitar leads. The long-form songwriting in “La Peste à Limoges” fares better, centered around an infectious, bouncy groove which gets my head bobbing, though the midsection is a tad protracted and disjointed. The charismatic vocal delivery helps but isn’t enough to overcome the fact that no song on A Hed an Noz is justified in being over 6 minutes long, yet most of them are.

Ultimately, A Hed an Noz left less and less of an impression on me the more time I spent with it. The delightful unpredictability from Au Fleuve de Loire is simply not present here. I am left puzzled as to why Hanternoz decided to discard the majority of the toolkit that served them well in the past. There is a fair amount of decent material here that would have done better without as much padding, and it’s worth a listen by anyone who enjoys Hyver’s take on medieval black metal. Just expect less medieval and more monotony this time around.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: antiqofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/people/Hanternoz-Pagan-de-Bretagne
Releases Worldwide: August 3rd, 2026

New post: Hordes X 2026 details sixteenth anniversary event and first wave of bands https://moshville.co.uk/news/tours/2026/05/hordes-x-2026-details-sixteenth-anniversary-event-and-first-wave-of-bands/ #CnocAnTursa #DeProfundis #HordesX #Owlcrusher

New post: Hordes X 2026 details sixteenth anniversary event and first wave of bands https://moshville.co.uk/news/tours/2026/05/hordes-x-2026-details-sixteenth-anniversary-event-and-first-wave-of-bands/ #CnocAnTursa #DeProfundis #HordesX #Owlcrusher

New post: Hordes X 2026 details sixteenth anniversary event and first wave of bands https://moshville.co.uk/news/tours/2026/05/hordes-x-2026-details-sixteenth-anniversary-event-and-first-wave-of-bands/ #CnocAnTursa #DeProfundis #HordesX #Owlcrusher

Cnoc An Tursa – A Cry for the Slain Review

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.5 #ACryfortheSlain #ApocalypticWitchcraftRecordings #Apr26 #BlackCrossHotel #BlackMetal #CnocAnTursa #Entertainment #Finntroll #FolkMetal #Hellripper #IronMaiden #Otyg #review #reviews #ScottishMetal #Turisas
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/604183/

Cnoc An Tursa – A Cry for the Slain Review

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few…
#NewsBeep #News #US #USA #UnitedStates #UnitedStatesOfAmerica #Music #2026 #3.5 #ACryfortheSlain #ApocalypticWitchcraftRecordings #Apr26 #BlackCrossHotel #BlackMetal #CnocAnTursa #Entertainment #Finntroll #FolkMetal #Hellripper #IronMaiden #Otyg #review #reviews #ScottishMetal #Turisas
https://www.newsbeep.com/us/604183/

https://www.europesays.com/uk/915902/ Cnoc An Tursa – A Cry for the Slain Review #2026 #35 #ACryForTheSlain #ApocalypticWitchcraftRecordings #Apr26 #BlackCrossHotel #BlackMetal #CnocAnTursa #Entertainment #Finntroll #FolkMetal #Hellripper #IronMaiden #music #Otyg #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Turisas #UK #UnitedKingdom

New post: Album Review: Cnoc An Tursa – A Cry For The Slain https://moshville.co.uk/reviews/album-review/2026/04/album-review-cnoc-an-tursa-a-cry-for-the-slain/ #CnocAnTursa

New post: Album Review: Cnoc An Tursa – A Cry For The Slain https://moshville.co.uk/reviews/album-review/2026/04/album-review-cnoc-an-tursa-a-cry-for-the-slain/ #CnocAnTursa

New post: Album Review: Cnoc An Tursa – A Cry For The Slain https://moshville.co.uk/reviews/album-review/2026/04/album-review-cnoc-an-tursa-a-cry-for-the-slain/ #CnocAnTursa

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few songs I’d heard, and I frequently saw them referenced while exploring similar artists. Yet their lack of output kept me at a distance; as I expanded my taste for folk metal, I didn’t want to fall in love with a band that had little to no appetite to get in the studio.1 For Cnoc An Tursa, you can lay aside your concerns, because they’re back after a nine-year wait to unveil third full-length A Cry for the Slain. This new opus perpetuates what Cnoc An Tursa has been doing since the band formed twenty years ago—writing blackened folk bangers fraught with grace, passion, and depth. After a prolonged absence, though, it becomes more and more difficult to bounce back if expectations outpace reality’s limitations. So, given the intervening years, does A Cry for the Slain elicit tears of joy or sorrow?

On A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa draws upon the soundscapes of both their prior albums to hatch an experience that exists somewhere between them. Debut The Giants of Auld introduced the world to Cnoc An Tursa‘s distinctive Highland hijinx, melding rousing orchestrations with meloblack might. Of their two previous albums, A Cry for the Slain shares more in common with The Giants of Auld, harkening to the debut’s more direct songwriting than The Forty Five’s melancholic, key-drenched atmospheres. The Forty Five’s solemnity persists on A Cry for the Slain, but its application rings bittersweet as triumphant melodies dance between wistful choirs and forlorn evocations. While all three albums sound unmistakably like them, their latest takes earlier victories and forges them together into Cnoc An Tursa’s best album to date.

Throughout A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa fuses ethereal majesty with blackened stylings and traditional melodies to create a gorgeous folk metal tapestry. The band’s allure lies with their finesse as they conjure captivating and earnest music, and the more I spin A Cry for the Slain, the more I appreciate its stark and stunning beauty. Crashing waves and reverb-laden guitars set the tone within the first track, “Na for Ghorma.” The mournful female vocals crescendo into an inevitable trudge that releases into furious trems and grating rasps on follow-up “The Caoineag.” Cnoc An Tursa consistently pits black metal acerbity against contemplative sorrow, deftly wending between complex atmospheres and emotions. This is perhaps best demonstrated on tracks “Baobhan Sith”2 and “Alba in My Heart,” where Cnoc An Tursa expertly controls song dynamics and tension with peaks and valleys in volume and pathos. Also, I’d be remiss not to mention my favorite track “Am Fear Liath Mòr,” which boasts an otherworldly quality and dextrous melodic leads that simultaneously remind me of “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” Iron Maiden, and Black Cross Hotel, yet still undeniably sounds like Cnoc An Tursa.

Despite succeeding on so many fronts, A Cry for the Slain flounders on penultimate track “Address to the Devil.” To be fair, it mostly falls victim to the heights of the preceding tracks, which all possess strong identities and exemplary writing. Comparatively, “Address to the Devil” stands out as missing the same soul. It starts promisingly enough, with frenzied tremolos lashing against scathing vocals, but from there the pace decelerates to a deliberate march. Soon enough, the song strips back to a twinkling synth and fabulous bass noodling, providing a solid core that ultimately lacks purpose or a melodic through-line to bring everything together.3 Besides “Address to the Devil,” I have no material complaints. The production and mix are smart and balanced, the forty-four-minute runtime is just right, and A Cry for the Slain’s replayability is relentless.

Cnoc An Tursa breaks their nine-year silence with a bang, and fans of their work should be pleased with A Cry for the Slain. As a newer convert, I’m disappointed I didn’t make the time to discover them earlier, but visiting their prior albums along with the new one has brought me immense, befolkened joy. I hope we don’t have to wait as long for their next outing, but until then, I’m content listening to A Cry for the Slain, knowing that time hasn’t dulled their ability to Cnoc one out of the park.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few songs I’d heard, and I frequently saw them referenced while exploring similar artists. Yet their lack of output kept me at a distance; as I expanded my taste for folk metal, I didn’t want to fall in love with a band that had little to no appetite to get in the studio.1 For Cnoc An Tursa, you can lay aside your concerns, because they’re back after a nine-year wait to unveil third full-length A Cry for the Slain. This new opus perpetuates what Cnoc An Tursa has been doing since the band formed twenty years ago—writing blackened folk bangers fraught with grace, passion, and depth. After a prolonged absence, though, it becomes more and more difficult to bounce back if expectations outpace reality’s limitations. So, given the intervening years, does A Cry for the Slain elicit tears of joy or sorrow?

On A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa draws upon the soundscapes of both their prior albums to hatch an experience that exists somewhere between them. Debut The Giants of Auld introduced the world to Cnoc An Tursa‘s distinctive Highland hijinx, melding rousing orchestrations with meloblack might. Of their two previous albums, A Cry for the Slain shares more in common with The Giants of Auld, harkening to the debut’s more direct songwriting than The Forty Five’s melancholic, key-drenched atmospheres. The Forty Five’s solemnity persists on A Cry for the Slain, but its application rings bittersweet as triumphant melodies dance between wistful choirs and forlorn evocations. While all three albums sound unmistakably like them, their latest takes earlier victories and forges them together into Cnoc An Tursa’s best album to date.

Throughout A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa fuses ethereal majesty with blackened stylings and traditional melodies to create a gorgeous folk metal tapestry. The band’s allure lies with their finesse as they conjure captivating and earnest music, and the more I spin A Cry for the Slain, the more I appreciate its stark and stunning beauty. Crashing waves and reverb-laden guitars set the tone within the first track, “Na for Ghorma.” The mournful female vocals crescendo into an inevitable trudge that releases into furious trems and grating rasps on follow-up “The Caoineag.” Cnoc An Tursa consistently pits black metal acerbity against contemplative sorrow, deftly wending between complex atmospheres and emotions. This is perhaps best demonstrated on tracks “Baobhan Sith”2 and “Alba in My Heart,” where Cnoc An Tursa expertly controls song dynamics and tension with peaks and valleys in volume and pathos. Also, I’d be remiss not to mention my favorite track “Am Fear Liath Mòr,” which boasts an otherworldly quality and dextrous melodic leads that simultaneously remind me of “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” Iron Maiden, and Black Cross Hotel, yet still undeniably sounds like Cnoc An Tursa.

Despite succeeding on so many fronts, A Cry for the Slain flounders on penultimate track “Address to the Devil.” To be fair, it mostly falls victim to the heights of the preceding tracks, which all possess strong identities and exemplary writing. Comparatively, “Address to the Devil” stands out as missing the same soul. It starts promisingly enough, with frenzied tremolos lashing against scathing vocals, but from there the pace decelerates to a deliberate march. Soon enough, the song strips back to a twinkling synth and fabulous bass noodling, providing a solid core that ultimately lacks purpose or a melodic through-line to bring everything together.3 Besides “Address to the Devil,” I have no material complaints. The production and mix are smart and balanced, the forty-four-minute runtime is just right, and A Cry for the Slain’s replayability is relentless.

Cnoc An Tursa breaks their nine-year silence with a bang, and fans of their work should be pleased with A Cry for the Slain. As a newer convert, I’m disappointed I didn’t make the time to discover them earlier, but visiting their prior albums along with the new one has brought me immense, befolkened joy. I hope we don’t have to wait as long for their next outing, but until then, I’m content listening to A Cry for the Slain, knowing that time hasn’t dulled their ability to Cnoc one out of the park.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few songs I’d heard, and I frequently saw them referenced while exploring similar artists. Yet their lack of output kept me at a distance; as I expanded my taste for folk metal, I didn’t want to fall in love with a band that had little to no appetite to get in the studio.1 For Cnoc An Tursa, you can lay aside your concerns, because they’re back after a nine-year wait to unveil third full-length A Cry for the Slain. This new opus perpetuates what Cnoc An Tursa has been doing since the band formed twenty years ago—writing blackened folk bangers fraught with grace, passion, and depth. After a prolonged absence, though, it becomes more and more difficult to bounce back if expectations outpace reality’s limitations. So, given the intervening years, does A Cry for the Slain elicit tears of joy or sorrow?

On A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa draws upon the soundscapes of both their prior albums to hatch an experience that exists somewhere between them. Debut The Giants of Auld introduced the world to Cnoc An Tursa‘s distinctive Highland hijinx, melding rousing orchestrations with meloblack might. Of their two previous albums, A Cry for the Slain shares more in common with The Giants of Auld, harkening to the debut’s more direct songwriting than The Forty Five’s melancholic, key-drenched atmospheres. The Forty Five’s solemnity persists on A Cry for the Slain, but its application rings bittersweet as triumphant melodies dance between wistful choirs and forlorn evocations. While all three albums sound unmistakably like them, their latest takes earlier victories and forges them together into Cnoc An Tursa’s best album to date.

Throughout A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa fuses ethereal majesty with blackened stylings and traditional melodies to create a gorgeous folk metal tapestry. The band’s allure lies with their finesse as they conjure captivating and earnest music, and the more I spin A Cry for the Slain, the more I appreciate its stark and stunning beauty. Crashing waves and reverb-laden guitars set the tone within the first track, “Na for Ghorma.” The mournful female vocals crescendo into an inevitable trudge that releases into furious trems and grating rasps on follow-up “The Caoineag.” Cnoc An Tursa consistently pits black metal acerbity against contemplative sorrow, deftly wending between complex atmospheres and emotions. This is perhaps best demonstrated on tracks “Baobhan Sith”2 and “Alba in My Heart,” where Cnoc An Tursa expertly controls song dynamics and tension with peaks and valleys in volume and pathos. Also, I’d be remiss not to mention my favorite track “Am Fear Liath Mòr,” which boasts an otherworldly quality and dextrous melodic leads that simultaneously remind me of “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” Iron Maiden, and Black Cross Hotel, yet still undeniably sounds like Cnoc An Tursa.

Despite succeeding on so many fronts, A Cry for the Slain flounders on penultimate track “Address to the Devil.” To be fair, it mostly falls victim to the heights of the preceding tracks, which all possess strong identities and exemplary writing. Comparatively, “Address to the Devil” stands out as missing the same soul. It starts promisingly enough, with frenzied tremolos lashing against scathing vocals, but from there the pace decelerates to a deliberate march. Soon enough, the song strips back to a twinkling synth and fabulous bass noodling, providing a solid core that ultimately lacks purpose or a melodic through-line to bring everything together.3 Besides “Address to the Devil,” I have no material complaints. The production and mix are smart and balanced, the forty-four-minute runtime is just right, and A Cry for the Slain’s replayability is relentless.

Cnoc An Tursa breaks their nine-year silence with a bang, and fans of their work should be pleased with A Cry for the Slain. As a newer convert, I’m disappointed I didn’t make the time to discover them earlier, but visiting their prior albums along with the new one has brought me immense, befolkened joy. I hope we don’t have to wait as long for their next outing, but until then, I’m content listening to A Cry for the Slain, knowing that time hasn’t dulled their ability to Cnoc one out of the park.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few songs I’d heard, and I frequently saw them referenced while exploring similar artists. Yet their lack of output kept me at a distance; as I expanded my taste for folk metal, I didn’t want to fall in love with a band that had little to no appetite to get in the studio.1 For Cnoc An Tursa, you can lay aside your concerns, because they’re back after a nine-year wait to unveil third full-length A Cry for the Slain. This new opus perpetuates what Cnoc An Tursa has been doing since the band formed twenty years ago—writing blackened folk bangers fraught with grace, passion, and depth. After a prolonged absence, though, it becomes more and more difficult to bounce back if expectations outpace reality’s limitations. So, given the intervening years, does A Cry for the Slain elicit tears of joy or sorrow?

On A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa draws upon the soundscapes of both their prior albums to hatch an experience that exists somewhere between them. Debut The Giants of Auld introduced the world to Cnoc An Tursa‘s distinctive Highland hijinx, melding rousing orchestrations with meloblack might. Of their two previous albums, A Cry for the Slain shares more in common with The Giants of Auld, harkening to the debut’s more direct songwriting than The Forty Five’s melancholic, key-drenched atmospheres. The Forty Five’s solemnity persists on A Cry for the Slain, but its application rings bittersweet as triumphant melodies dance between wistful choirs and forlorn evocations. While all three albums sound unmistakably like them, their latest takes earlier victories and forges them together into Cnoc An Tursa’s best album to date.

Throughout A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa fuses ethereal majesty with blackened stylings and traditional melodies to create a gorgeous folk metal tapestry. The band’s allure lies with their finesse as they conjure captivating and earnest music, and the more I spin A Cry for the Slain, the more I appreciate its stark and stunning beauty. Crashing waves and reverb-laden guitars set the tone within the first track, “Na for Ghorma.” The mournful female vocals crescendo into an inevitable trudge that releases into furious trems and grating rasps on follow-up “The Caoineag.” Cnoc An Tursa consistently pits black metal acerbity against contemplative sorrow, deftly wending between complex atmospheres and emotions. This is perhaps best demonstrated on tracks “Baobhan Sith”2 and “Alba in My Heart,” where Cnoc An Tursa expertly controls song dynamics and tension with peaks and valleys in volume and pathos. Also, I’d be remiss not to mention my favorite track “Am Fear Liath Mòr,” which boasts an otherworldly quality and dextrous melodic leads that simultaneously remind me of “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” Iron Maiden, and Black Cross Hotel, yet still undeniably sounds like Cnoc An Tursa.

Despite succeeding on so many fronts, A Cry for the Slain flounders on penultimate track “Address to the Devil.” To be fair, it mostly falls victim to the heights of the preceding tracks, which all possess strong identities and exemplary writing. Comparatively, “Address to the Devil” stands out as missing the same soul. It starts promisingly enough, with frenzied tremolos lashing against scathing vocals, but from there the pace decelerates to a deliberate march. Soon enough, the song strips back to a twinkling synth and fabulous bass noodling, providing a solid core that ultimately lacks purpose or a melodic through-line to bring everything together.3 Besides “Address to the Devil,” I have no material complaints. The production and mix are smart and balanced, the forty-four-minute runtime is just right, and A Cry for the Slain’s replayability is relentless.

Cnoc An Tursa breaks their nine-year silence with a bang, and fans of their work should be pleased with A Cry for the Slain. As a newer convert, I’m disappointed I didn’t make the time to discover them earlier, but visiting their prior albums along with the new one has brought me immense, befolkened joy. I hope we don’t have to wait as long for their next outing, but until then, I’m content listening to A Cry for the Slain, knowing that time hasn’t dulled their ability to Cnoc one out of the park.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

For years, Scottish outfit Cnoc An Tursa lurked along the periphery of my awareness. I liked the few songs I’d heard, and I frequently saw them referenced while exploring similar artists. Yet their lack of output kept me at a distance; as I expanded my taste for folk metal, I didn’t want to fall in love with a band that had little to no appetite to get in the studio.1 For Cnoc An Tursa, you can lay aside your concerns, because they’re back after a nine-year wait to unveil third full-length A Cry for the Slain. This new opus perpetuates what Cnoc An Tursa has been doing since the band formed twenty years ago—writing blackened folk bangers fraught with grace, passion, and depth. After a prolonged absence, though, it becomes more and more difficult to bounce back if expectations outpace reality’s limitations. So, given the intervening years, does A Cry for the Slain elicit tears of joy or sorrow?

On A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa draws upon the soundscapes of both their prior albums to hatch an experience that exists somewhere between them. Debut The Giants of Auld introduced the world to Cnoc An Tursa‘s distinctive Highland hijinx, melding rousing orchestrations with meloblack might. Of their two previous albums, A Cry for the Slain shares more in common with The Giants of Auld, harkening to the debut’s more direct songwriting than The Forty Five’s melancholic, key-drenched atmospheres. The Forty Five’s solemnity persists on A Cry for the Slain, but its application rings bittersweet as triumphant melodies dance between wistful choirs and forlorn evocations. While all three albums sound unmistakably like them, their latest takes earlier victories and forges them together into Cnoc An Tursa’s best album to date.

Throughout A Cry for the Slain, Cnoc An Tursa fuses ethereal majesty with blackened stylings and traditional melodies to create a gorgeous folk metal tapestry. The band’s allure lies with their finesse as they conjure captivating and earnest music, and the more I spin A Cry for the Slain, the more I appreciate its stark and stunning beauty. Crashing waves and reverb-laden guitars set the tone within the first track, “Na for Ghorma.” The mournful female vocals crescendo into an inevitable trudge that releases into furious trems and grating rasps on follow-up “The Caoineag.” Cnoc An Tursa consistently pits black metal acerbity against contemplative sorrow, deftly wending between complex atmospheres and emotions. This is perhaps best demonstrated on tracks “Baobhan Sith”2 and “Alba in My Heart,” where Cnoc An Tursa expertly controls song dynamics and tension with peaks and valleys in volume and pathos. Also, I’d be remiss not to mention my favorite track “Am Fear Liath Mòr,” which boasts an otherworldly quality and dextrous melodic leads that simultaneously remind me of “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” Iron Maiden, and Black Cross Hotel, yet still undeniably sounds like Cnoc An Tursa.

Despite succeeding on so many fronts, A Cry for the Slain flounders on penultimate track “Address to the Devil.” To be fair, it mostly falls victim to the heights of the preceding tracks, which all possess strong identities and exemplary writing. Comparatively, “Address to the Devil” stands out as missing the same soul. It starts promisingly enough, with frenzied tremolos lashing against scathing vocals, but from there the pace decelerates to a deliberate march. Soon enough, the song strips back to a twinkling synth and fabulous bass noodling, providing a solid core that ultimately lacks purpose or a melodic through-line to bring everything together.3 Besides “Address to the Devil,” I have no material complaints. The production and mix are smart and balanced, the forty-four-minute runtime is just right, and A Cry for the Slain’s replayability is relentless.

Cnoc An Tursa breaks their nine-year silence with a bang, and fans of their work should be pleased with A Cry for the Slain. As a newer convert, I’m disappointed I didn’t make the time to discover them earlier, but visiting their prior albums along with the new one has brought me immense, befolkened joy. I hope we don’t have to wait as long for their next outing, but until then, I’m content listening to A Cry for the Slain, knowing that time hasn’t dulled their ability to Cnoc one out of the park.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apocalyptic Witchcraft Recordings
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: April 24th, 2026

CNOC AN TURSA (Regne Unit) presenta nou àlbum: "A Cry for the Slain" #CnocAnTursa #BlackMetal #FolkMetal #Abril2026 #RegneUnit #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

CNOC AN TURSA (Regne Unit) presenta nou àlbum: "A Cry for the Slain" #CnocAnTursa #BlackMetal #FolkMetal #Abril2026 #RegneUnit #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

New post: Black metal event Tynebound announced for Newcastle this September https://moshville.co.uk/news/tours/2026/02/black-metal-event-tynebound-announced-for-newcastle-this-september/ #Aristarchos #CnocAnTursa #Inferno #MoonlightSorcery

New post: Black metal event Tynebound announced for Newcastle this September https://moshville.co.uk/news/tours/2026/02/black-metal-event-tynebound-announced-for-newcastle-this-september/ #Aristarchos #CnocAnTursa #Inferno #MoonlightSorcery

New post: Black metal event Tynebound announced for Newcastle this September https://moshville.co.uk/news/tours/2026/02/black-metal-event-tynebound-announced-for-newcastle-this-september/ #Aristarchos #CnocAnTursa #Inferno #MoonlightSorcery