#dawn-of-a-dark-age — Public Fediverse posts

As 2025 winds to a close, the depleted promo pit growls with hunger, eager for the new year and a fresh bucket o’ chum.1 As I sift through the meager mid-December hopefuls, I detect a flash of black and silver. Snatching the promo, I discover clarinet-wielding Vittorio Sabelli and his project Dawn of a Dark Age, along with ninth album Ver Sacrum. Released between 2014 and 2017, the band’s first five albums examined The Six Elements. Ver Sacrum is the conclusion of a tetralogy that explores the Samnites, a Roman-conquered civilization with roots in modern-day central Italy.2 Dear Hollow found the first part of the tetralogy wondrous at its best, but undercut by a tedious, ill-conceived back half. Even so, I couldn’t resist the allure of clarinet metal. After nine albums and a bit of baggage, can Sabelli & Co. bring a warm light to dreary days, or are we left in the dark of a false dawn?

At its core, Dawn of a Dark Age plays avant-garde black metal with folksy instrumentation, and on Ver Sacrum they set aside the scathing hostility found on earlier works to hone mood and atmosphere. Though the speed varies throughout the album, proceedings mostly stick to mid-paced tempos. Sound-wise, Dawn of a Dark Age sits at a crossroads of influences, eliciting the tribal spirit of Wardruna, the wistful temperament of Primordial, and the post-black pangs of White Ward.3 While these comparisons help orient expectations, Dawn of a Dark Age’s milieu is uniquely their own, and despite some imperfections, the band clearly demonstrates lessons learned.

Ver Sacrum by DAWN OF A DARK AGE

In addition to supplying much of the instrumentation throughout Ver Sacrum, Sabelli surrounds himself with a strong cast. Drummer Diego ‘Aeternus’ Tasciotti returns, skillfully supporting Dawn of a Dark Age with subdued cymbals and calculated double-bass rolls. In fact, Aeternus’ subtle kitwork deftly boosts the drama as slower passages accelerate and guitars and bass frolic with clarinets and keys. I particularly enjoy the accordion’s role, conjuring vivid Arcadian imagery as its lilting wheeze plays counter to delicate bass grooves and acoustic strums. Most distinctive, though, are the clarinet and bass clarinet. Outside Van Halen’s “Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now),” I don’t recall any clarinet-centric passages in metal, and Ver Sacrum gives the ol’ licorice stick headlining prominence. Mixing clarinets with metal isn’t a combination I’d ever considered, but on Ver Sacrum, Dawn of a Dark Age convinces me there’s plenty of room for its warm, sulky timbre. Atop the music, new vocalist Ignazio Cuga saunters in with a deep, resonant style that ably treads ground covering croaks, growls, and throat singing.4 All told, Ver Sacrum creates an evocative atmosphere that mostly enchants with its rustic drones and occasional black metal bursts.

While Dawn of a Dark Age sharply demonstrates invigorated songwriting and improvements on the pitfalls from prior outings, Ver Sacrum still encounters a few snags. The 40-minute album length is just right, but the tendency to linger on passages remains, drawing beguiling moments past their prime. And though the awkward transitions found on La Tovola Osca have been largely addressed, a few are present here. Aside from these, performances sizzle, the production suits the music, and the assorted instruments and pacing concoct an engaging, well-manicured experience. The only thing holding back Ver Sacrum from higher praise is the lack of standout moments. I sink into the music every time I spin it, yet once it’s over, I’m left with impressions of the overall sound, absent specific refrains to call me back. Multiple listens reinforce Dawn of a Dark Age’s understated grace, but transitioning away from passages earlier would help build bigger climaxes and elevate Ver Sacrum’s immediacy.

Over eleven years and nine albums, Dawn of a Dark Age has whetted an uncanny aptitude for creating diverse textures and ambiances. Despite my gripes, Ver Sacrum hits more often than misses, and stands as a solid release in a month where good new music is in short supply. Further, this is a must-listen for anyone who wants to like black metal but generally finds it inaccessible. Dawn of a Dark Age takes harsher components of the genre and softens the edges, creating a concise yet engrossing experience for anyone looking to dip their toes into befolkened black waters.

Rating: Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

As 2025 winds to a close, the depleted promo pit growls with hunger, eager for the new year and a fresh bucket o’ chum.1 As I sift through the meager mid-December hopefuls, I detect a flash of black and silver. Snatching the promo, I discover clarinet-wielding Vittorio Sabelli and his project Dawn of a Dark Age, along with ninth album Ver Sacrum. Released between 2014 and 2017, the band’s first five albums examined The Six Elements. Ver Sacrum is the conclusion of a tetralogy that explores the Samnites, a Roman-conquered civilization with roots in modern-day central Italy.2 Dear Hollow found the first part of the tetralogy wondrous at its best, but undercut by a tedious, ill-conceived back half. Even so, I couldn’t resist the allure of clarinet metal. After nine albums and a bit of baggage, can Sabelli & Co. bring a warm light to dreary days, or are we left in the dark of a false dawn?

At its core, Dawn of a Dark Age plays avant-garde black metal with folksy instrumentation, and on Ver Sacrum they set aside the scathing hostility found on earlier works to hone mood and atmosphere. Though the speed varies throughout the album, proceedings mostly stick to mid-paced tempos. Sound-wise, Dawn of a Dark Age sits at a crossroads of influences, eliciting the tribal spirit of Wardruna, the wistful temperament of Primordial, and the post-black pangs of White Ward.3 While these comparisons help orient expectations, Dawn of a Dark Age’s milieu is uniquely their own, and despite some imperfections, the band clearly demonstrates lessons learned.

Ver Sacrum by DAWN OF A DARK AGE

In addition to supplying much of the instrumentation throughout Ver Sacrum, Sabelli surrounds himself with a strong cast. Drummer Diego ‘Aeternus’ Tasciotti returns, skillfully supporting Dawn of a Dark Age with subdued cymbals and calculated double-bass rolls. In fact, Aeternus’ subtle kitwork deftly boosts the drama as slower passages accelerate and guitars and bass frolic with clarinets and keys. I particularly enjoy the accordion’s role, conjuring vivid Arcadian imagery as its lilting wheeze plays counter to delicate bass grooves and acoustic strums. Most distinctive, though, are the clarinet and bass clarinet. Outside Van Halen’s “Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now),” I don’t recall any clarinet-centric passages in metal, and Ver Sacrum gives the ol’ licorice stick headlining prominence. Mixing clarinets with metal isn’t a combination I’d ever considered, but on Ver Sacrum, Dawn of a Dark Age convinces me there’s plenty of room for its warm, sulky timbre. Atop the music, new vocalist Ignazio Cuga saunters in with a deep, resonant style that ably treads ground covering croaks, growls, and throat singing.4 All told, Ver Sacrum creates an evocative atmosphere that mostly enchants with its rustic drones and occasional black metal bursts.

While Dawn of a Dark Age sharply demonstrates invigorated songwriting and improvements on the pitfalls from prior outings, Ver Sacrum still encounters a few snags. The 40-minute album length is just right, but the tendency to linger on passages remains, drawing beguiling moments past their prime. And though the awkward transitions found on La Tovola Osca have been largely addressed, a few are present here. Aside from these, performances sizzle, the production suits the music, and the assorted instruments and pacing concoct an engaging, well-manicured experience. The only thing holding back Ver Sacrum from higher praise is the lack of standout moments. I sink into the music every time I spin it, yet once it’s over, I’m left with impressions of the overall sound, absent specific refrains to call me back. Multiple listens reinforce Dawn of a Dark Age’s understated grace, but transitioning away from passages earlier would help build bigger climaxes and elevate Ver Sacrum’s immediacy.

Over eleven years and nine albums, Dawn of a Dark Age has whetted an uncanny aptitude for creating diverse textures and ambiances. Despite my gripes, Ver Sacrum hits more often than misses, and stands as a solid release in a month where good new music is in short supply. Further, this is a must-listen for anyone who wants to like black metal but generally finds it inaccessible. Dawn of a Dark Age takes harsher components of the genre and softens the edges, creating a concise yet engrossing experience for anyone looking to dip their toes into befolkened black waters.

Rating: Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

As 2025 winds to a close, the depleted promo pit growls with hunger, eager for the new year and a fresh bucket o’ chum.1 As I sift through the meager mid-December hopefuls, I detect a flash of black and silver. Snatching the promo, I discover clarinet-wielding Vittorio Sabelli and his project Dawn of a Dark Age, along with ninth album Ver Sacrum. Released between 2014 and 2017, the band’s first five albums examined The Six Elements. Ver Sacrum is the conclusion of a tetralogy that explores the Samnites, a Roman-conquered civilization with roots in modern-day central Italy.2 Dear Hollow found the first part of the tetralogy wondrous at its best, but undercut by a tedious, ill-conceived back half. Even so, I couldn’t resist the allure of clarinet metal. After nine albums and a bit of baggage, can Sabelli & Co. bring a warm light to dreary days, or are we left in the dark of a false dawn?

At its core, Dawn of a Dark Age plays avant-garde black metal with folksy instrumentation, and on Ver Sacrum they set aside the scathing hostility found on earlier works to hone mood and atmosphere. Though the speed varies throughout the album, proceedings mostly stick to mid-paced tempos. Sound-wise, Dawn of a Dark Age sits at a crossroads of influences, eliciting the tribal spirit of Wardruna, the wistful temperament of Primordial, and the post-black pangs of White Ward.3 While these comparisons help orient expectations, Dawn of a Dark Age’s milieu is uniquely their own, and despite some imperfections, the band clearly demonstrates lessons learned.

Ver Sacrum by DAWN OF A DARK AGE

In addition to supplying much of the instrumentation throughout Ver Sacrum, Sabelli surrounds himself with a strong cast. Drummer Diego ‘Aeternus’ Tasciotti returns, skillfully supporting Dawn of a Dark Age with subdued cymbals and calculated double-bass rolls. In fact, Aeternus’ subtle kitwork deftly boosts the drama as slower passages accelerate and guitars and bass frolic with clarinets and keys. I particularly enjoy the accordion’s role, conjuring vivid Arcadian imagery as its lilting wheeze plays counter to delicate bass grooves and acoustic strums. Most distinctive, though, are the clarinet and bass clarinet. Outside Van Halen’s “Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now),” I don’t recall any clarinet-centric passages in metal, and Ver Sacrum gives the ol’ licorice stick headlining prominence. Mixing clarinets with metal isn’t a combination I’d ever considered, but on Ver Sacrum, Dawn of a Dark Age convinces me there’s plenty of room for its warm, sulky timbre. Atop the music, new vocalist Ignazio Cuga saunters in with a deep, resonant style that ably treads ground covering croaks, growls, and throat singing.4 All told, Ver Sacrum creates an evocative atmosphere that mostly enchants with its rustic drones and occasional black metal bursts.

While Dawn of a Dark Age sharply demonstrates invigorated songwriting and improvements on the pitfalls from prior outings, Ver Sacrum still encounters a few snags. The 40-minute album length is just right, but the tendency to linger on passages remains, drawing beguiling moments past their prime. And though the awkward transitions found on La Tovola Osca have been largely addressed, a few are present here. Aside from these, performances sizzle, the production suits the music, and the assorted instruments and pacing concoct an engaging, well-manicured experience. The only thing holding back Ver Sacrum from higher praise is the lack of standout moments. I sink into the music every time I spin it, yet once it’s over, I’m left with impressions of the overall sound, absent specific refrains to call me back. Multiple listens reinforce Dawn of a Dark Age’s understated grace, but transitioning away from passages earlier would help build bigger climaxes and elevate Ver Sacrum’s immediacy.

Over eleven years and nine albums, Dawn of a Dark Age has whetted an uncanny aptitude for creating diverse textures and ambiances. Despite my gripes, Ver Sacrum hits more often than misses, and stands as a solid release in a month where good new music is in short supply. Further, this is a must-listen for anyone who wants to like black metal but generally finds it inaccessible. Dawn of a Dark Age takes harsher components of the genre and softens the edges, creating a concise yet engrossing experience for anyone looking to dip their toes into befolkened black waters.

Rating: Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

As 2025 winds to a close, the depleted promo pit growls with hunger, eager for the new year and a fresh bucket o’ chum.1 As I sift through the meager mid-December hopefuls, I detect a flash of black and silver. Snatching the promo, I discover clarinet-wielding Vittorio Sabelli and his project Dawn of a Dark Age, along with ninth album Ver Sacrum. Released between 2014 and 2017, the band’s first five albums examined The Six Elements. Ver Sacrum is the conclusion of a tetralogy that explores the Samnites, a Roman-conquered civilization with roots in modern-day central Italy.2 Dear Hollow found the first part of the tetralogy wondrous at its best, but undercut by a tedious, ill-conceived back half. Even so, I couldn’t resist the allure of clarinet metal. After nine albums and a bit of baggage, can Sabelli & Co. bring a warm light to dreary days, or are we left in the dark of a false dawn?

At its core, Dawn of a Dark Age plays avant-garde black metal with folksy instrumentation, and on Ver Sacrum they set aside the scathing hostility found on earlier works to hone mood and atmosphere. Though the speed varies throughout the album, proceedings mostly stick to mid-paced tempos. Sound-wise, Dawn of a Dark Age sits at a crossroads of influences, eliciting the tribal spirit of Wardruna, the wistful temperament of Primordial, and the post-black pangs of White Ward.3 While these comparisons help orient expectations, Dawn of a Dark Age’s milieu is uniquely their own, and despite some imperfections, the band clearly demonstrates lessons learned.

Ver Sacrum by DAWN OF A DARK AGE

In addition to supplying much of the instrumentation throughout Ver Sacrum, Sabelli surrounds himself with a strong cast. Drummer Diego ‘Aeternus’ Tasciotti returns, skillfully supporting Dawn of a Dark Age with subdued cymbals and calculated double-bass rolls. In fact, Aeternus’ subtle kitwork deftly boosts the drama as slower passages accelerate and guitars and bass frolic with clarinets and keys. I particularly enjoy the accordion’s role, conjuring vivid Arcadian imagery as its lilting wheeze plays counter to delicate bass grooves and acoustic strums. Most distinctive, though, are the clarinet and bass clarinet. Outside Van Halen’s “Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now),” I don’t recall any clarinet-centric passages in metal, and Ver Sacrum gives the ol’ licorice stick headlining prominence. Mixing clarinets with metal isn’t a combination I’d ever considered, but on Ver Sacrum, Dawn of a Dark Age convinces me there’s plenty of room for its warm, sulky timbre. Atop the music, new vocalist Ignazio Cuga saunters in with a deep, resonant style that ably treads ground covering croaks, growls, and throat singing.4 All told, Ver Sacrum creates an evocative atmosphere that mostly enchants with its rustic drones and occasional black metal bursts.

While Dawn of a Dark Age sharply demonstrates invigorated songwriting and improvements on the pitfalls from prior outings, Ver Sacrum still encounters a few snags. The 40-minute album length is just right, but the tendency to linger on passages remains, drawing beguiling moments past their prime. And though the awkward transitions found on La Tovola Osca have been largely addressed, a few are present here. Aside from these, performances sizzle, the production suits the music, and the assorted instruments and pacing concoct an engaging, well-manicured experience. The only thing holding back Ver Sacrum from higher praise is the lack of standout moments. I sink into the music every time I spin it, yet once it’s over, I’m left with impressions of the overall sound, absent specific refrains to call me back. Multiple listens reinforce Dawn of a Dark Age’s understated grace, but transitioning away from passages earlier would help build bigger climaxes and elevate Ver Sacrum’s immediacy.

Over eleven years and nine albums, Dawn of a Dark Age has whetted an uncanny aptitude for creating diverse textures and ambiances. Despite my gripes, Ver Sacrum hits more often than misses, and stands as a solid release in a month where good new music is in short supply. Further, this is a must-listen for anyone who wants to like black metal but generally finds it inaccessible. Dawn of a Dark Age takes harsher components of the genre and softens the edges, creating a concise yet engrossing experience for anyone looking to dip their toes into befolkened black waters.

Rating: Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

As 2025 winds to a close, the depleted promo pit growls with hunger, eager for the new year and a fresh bucket o’ chum.1 As I sift through the meager mid-December hopefuls, I detect a flash of black and silver. Snatching the promo, I discover clarinet-wielding Vittorio Sabelli and his project Dawn of a Dark Age, along with ninth album Ver Sacrum. Released between 2014 and 2017, the band’s first five albums examined The Six Elements. Ver Sacrum is the conclusion of a tetralogy that explores the Samnites, a Roman-conquered civilization with roots in modern-day central Italy.2 Dear Hollow found the first part of the tetralogy wondrous at its best, but undercut by a tedious, ill-conceived back half. Even so, I couldn’t resist the allure of clarinet metal. After nine albums and a bit of baggage, can Sabelli & Co. bring a warm light to dreary days, or are we left in the dark of a false dawn?

At its core, Dawn of a Dark Age plays avant-garde black metal with folksy instrumentation, and on Ver Sacrum they set aside the scathing hostility found on earlier works to hone mood and atmosphere. Though the speed varies throughout the album, proceedings mostly stick to mid-paced tempos. Sound-wise, Dawn of a Dark Age sits at a crossroads of influences, eliciting the tribal spirit of Wardruna, the wistful temperament of Primordial, and the post-black pangs of White Ward.3 While these comparisons help orient expectations, Dawn of a Dark Age’s milieu is uniquely their own, and despite some imperfections, the band clearly demonstrates lessons learned.

Ver Sacrum by DAWN OF A DARK AGE

In addition to supplying much of the instrumentation throughout Ver Sacrum, Sabelli surrounds himself with a strong cast. Drummer Diego ‘Aeternus’ Tasciotti returns, skillfully supporting Dawn of a Dark Age with subdued cymbals and calculated double-bass rolls. In fact, Aeternus’ subtle kitwork deftly boosts the drama as slower passages accelerate and guitars and bass frolic with clarinets and keys. I particularly enjoy the accordion’s role, conjuring vivid Arcadian imagery as its lilting wheeze plays counter to delicate bass grooves and acoustic strums. Most distinctive, though, are the clarinet and bass clarinet. Outside Van Halen’s “Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now),” I don’t recall any clarinet-centric passages in metal, and Ver Sacrum gives the ol’ licorice stick headlining prominence. Mixing clarinets with metal isn’t a combination I’d ever considered, but on Ver Sacrum, Dawn of a Dark Age convinces me there’s plenty of room for its warm, sulky timbre. Atop the music, new vocalist Ignazio Cuga saunters in with a deep, resonant style that ably treads ground covering croaks, growls, and throat singing.4 All told, Ver Sacrum creates an evocative atmosphere that mostly enchants with its rustic drones and occasional black metal bursts.

While Dawn of a Dark Age sharply demonstrates invigorated songwriting and improvements on the pitfalls from prior outings, Ver Sacrum still encounters a few snags. The 40-minute album length is just right, but the tendency to linger on passages remains, drawing beguiling moments past their prime. And though the awkward transitions found on La Tovola Osca have been largely addressed, a few are present here. Aside from these, performances sizzle, the production suits the music, and the assorted instruments and pacing concoct an engaging, well-manicured experience. The only thing holding back Ver Sacrum from higher praise is the lack of standout moments. I sink into the music every time I spin it, yet once it’s over, I’m left with impressions of the overall sound, absent specific refrains to call me back. Multiple listens reinforce Dawn of a Dark Age’s understated grace, but transitioning away from passages earlier would help build bigger climaxes and elevate Ver Sacrum’s immediacy.

Over eleven years and nine albums, Dawn of a Dark Age has whetted an uncanny aptitude for creating diverse textures and ambiances. Despite my gripes, Ver Sacrum hits more often than misses, and stands as a solid release in a month where good new music is in short supply. Further, this is a must-listen for anyone who wants to like black metal but generally finds it inaccessible. Dawn of a Dark Age takes harsher components of the genre and softens the edges, creating a concise yet engrossing experience for anyone looking to dip their toes into befolkened black waters.

Rating: Good!
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: My Kingdom Music
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: December 12th, 2025

DAWN OF A DARK AGE (Itàlia) presenta nou àlbum: "Ver Sacrum" #DawnOfADarkAge #Atmospheric #ExperimentalBlackMetal #Desembre2025 #Itàlia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

DAWN OF A DARK AGE (Itàlia) presenta nou àlbum: "Ver Sacrum" #DawnOfADarkAge #Atmospheric #ExperimentalBlackMetal #Desembre2025 #Itàlia #NouÀlbum #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

Wÿntër Ärvń – Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute Review

By Twelve

Wÿntër Ärvn is a really cool project. It takes its inspiration from black metal of the ’90s and channels it into an almost fully acoustic and almost fully instrumental framework, building on many familiar feelings from that space—bitterness, inner struggles, anger, the usual stuff—in a pleasant, rather than jarring way. The French one-man project writes on acoustic guitars and builds on it such instruments as the cello, shakuhachi, and, yes, clarinet—but no electric guitars in sight. It’s a powerful concept and worked very well on Abysses, to the delight of the venerable Emya. Following up is always tricky, but a new album is here to continue the journey; how does Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute stand up?

I should admit straightaway that I didn’t love Abysses. On paper, it’s right up my alley—gorgeous dark and neo folk music with a beating heart from black metal- but I found that its lack of immediacy meant it didn’t work so well for me as it did for Emya (and a lot of you). Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute—Under the Black Storm – The Star and the Fall—challenged my preconceived biases fast with “Un Voile sur l’Azur,” a calming, peaceful tune that utilizes bagpipes and whistles from Geoffroy Dell’Aria (Les Bâtards du Nord, Épaves) to stunning effect. Similarly, “Remembrances” is a gorgeous song in a similar vein, with compelling acoustic guitar and a beautiful hurdy-gurdy lead that has placed it among my most-listened-to songs over the past few weeks. It is evocative—mesmerizing, even—with an appropriately strong sense of melancholy and nostalgia that hangs over Sous l’Orage Noir in the best possible way.

As alluded to above, there is a strong diversity of instruments across Sous l’Orage Noir, thanks in part to a variety of guest musicians. Raphaël Verguin (In Cauda Venenum, Psygnosis) provides cello for “Ad Vesperam,” Vittorio Sabelli (Dawn of a Dark Age) performs clarinet for “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” and “L’Astre et la Chute,” and there’s even a harp from Laurène Telennaria (Orkhys). Similarly, not all tracks are instrumental, with singing and a few growls (Judith De Lotharingie of Ofdrykkja and Wÿntër Ärvń himself, respectively) making rare appearances throughout. Many of these elements were present in Abysses, of course, but I love the way the songwriting, production, and album direction support them. The way Sabelli’s clarinet emerges as if from the titular fog in “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” is so memorable, as is the way “Appelé à l’Abîme” builds and builds before Telennaria’s singing descends as if from a great distance. Wÿntër Ärvń demonstrates excellent songwriting on Sous l’Orage Noir, like the best of October Falls, while taking influence from across the French metal scene.

There are only two things I don’t love about Sous l’Orage Noir (a great thing to be able to say for a dark folk album). The first is that I’m not convinced the growls work with the music. While I understand the relation to black metal, I think Wÿntër Ärvń’s is too removed from the original style—his hoarse, rough growling is a stark contrast to a song as lovely as “Ad Vesperam,” and breaks my immersion a bit. It’s not even a bad choice—the backdrop of chants and percussion supports it really well, but the song itself is almost peaceful up to that point. The second is that I don’t think the back half of the album does enough to distinguish itself from the first four or five tracks, making Sous l’Orage Noir feel a bit front-loaded. I don’t love the melody in “L’Astre et la Chute, for example;” it feels passive, while “Sous L’Orage Noir” leans a bit too much on repetition. Neither are bad songs, but they don’t do much to keep up the momentum from the openers.

On the other hand, these are the same qualities that make it so easy to load Wÿntër Ärvń, close your eyes, and get carried away by the music. There is a phenomenal sense of flow to Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute that complements its style so well. Whether you’re a fan of metal or folk, there’s something to love here. In my mind, Sous l’Orage Noir is a step up from Abysses, and has made me a real fan of Wÿntër Ärvń— I can’t wait to see where the music flows from here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Website: facebook.com/wynterarvnneofolk
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AntiqRecords #DawnOfADarkAge #Épaves #FrenchMetal #InCaudaVenenum #LesBâtardsDuNord #Mar25 #Neofolk #OctoberFalls #Ofdrykkja #Orkhys #Psygnosis #Review #Reviews #SousLOrageNoirLAstreEtLaChute #WÿntërÄrvń

Wÿntër Ärvń – Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute Review

By Twelve

Wÿntër Ärvn is a really cool project. It takes its inspiration from black metal of the ’90s and channels it into an almost fully acoustic and almost fully instrumental framework, building on many familiar feelings from that space—bitterness, inner struggles, anger, the usual stuff—in a pleasant, rather than jarring way. The French one-man project writes on acoustic guitars and builds on it such instruments as the cello, shakuhachi, and, yes, clarinet—but no electric guitars in sight. It’s a powerful concept and worked very well on Abysses, to the delight of the venerable Emya. Following up is always tricky, but a new album is here to continue the journey; how does Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute stand up?

I should admit straightaway that I didn’t love Abysses. On paper, it’s right up my alley—gorgeous dark and neo folk music with a beating heart from black metal- but I found that its lack of immediacy meant it didn’t work so well for me as it did for Emya (and a lot of you). Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute—Under the Black Storm – The Star and the Fall—challenged my preconceived biases fast with “Un Voile sur l’Azur,” a calming, peaceful tune that utilizes bagpipes and whistles from Geoffroy Dell’Aria (Les Bâtards du Nord, Épaves) to stunning effect. Similarly, “Remembrances” is a gorgeous song in a similar vein, with compelling acoustic guitar and a beautiful hurdy-gurdy lead that has placed it among my most-listened-to songs over the past few weeks. It is evocative—mesmerizing, even—with an appropriately strong sense of melancholy and nostalgia that hangs over Sous l’Orage Noir in the best possible way.

As alluded to above, there is a strong diversity of instruments across Sous l’Orage Noir, thanks in part to a variety of guest musicians. Raphaël Verguin (In Cauda Venenum, Psygnosis) provides cello for “Ad Vesperam,” Vittorio Sabelli (Dawn of a Dark Age) performs clarinet for “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” and “L’Astre et la Chute,” and there’s even a harp from Laurène Telennaria (Orkhys). Similarly, not all tracks are instrumental, with singing and a few growls (Judith De Lotharingie of Ofdrykkja and Wÿntër Ärvń himself, respectively) making rare appearances throughout. Many of these elements were present in Abysses, of course, but I love the way the songwriting, production, and album direction support them. The way Sabelli’s clarinet emerges as if from the titular fog in “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” is so memorable, as is the way “Appelé à l’Abîme” builds and builds before Telennaria’s singing descends as if from a great distance. Wÿntër Ärvń demonstrates excellent songwriting on Sous l’Orage Noir, like the best of October Falls, while taking influence from across the French metal scene.

There are only two things I don’t love about Sous l’Orage Noir (a great thing to be able to say for a dark folk album). The first is that I’m not convinced the growls work with the music. While I understand the relation to black metal, I think Wÿntër Ärvń’s is too removed from the original style—his hoarse, rough growling is a stark contrast to a song as lovely as “Ad Vesperam,” and breaks my immersion a bit. It’s not even a bad choice—the backdrop of chants and percussion supports it really well, but the song itself is almost peaceful up to that point. The second is that I don’t think the back half of the album does enough to distinguish itself from the first four or five tracks, making Sous l’Orage Noir feel a bit front-loaded. I don’t love the melody in “L’Astre et la Chute, for example;” it feels passive, while “Sous L’Orage Noir” leans a bit too much on repetition. Neither are bad songs, but they don’t do much to keep up the momentum from the openers.

On the other hand, these are the same qualities that make it so easy to load Wÿntër Ärvń, close your eyes, and get carried away by the music. There is a phenomenal sense of flow to Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute that complements its style so well. Whether you’re a fan of metal or folk, there’s something to love here. In my mind, Sous l’Orage Noir is a step up from Abysses, and has made me a real fan of Wÿntër Ärvń— I can’t wait to see where the music flows from here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Website: facebook.com/wynterarvnneofolk
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AntiqRecords #DawnOfADarkAge #Épaves #FrenchMetal #InCaudaVenenum #LesBâtardsDuNord #Mar25 #Neofolk #OctoberFalls #Ofdrykkja #Orkhys #Psygnosis #Review #Reviews #SousLOrageNoirLAstreEtLaChute #WÿntërÄrvń

Wÿntër Ärvń – Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute Review

By Twelve

Wÿntër Ärvn is a really cool project. It takes its inspiration from black metal of the ’90s and channels it into an almost fully acoustic and almost fully instrumental framework, building on many familiar feelings from that space—bitterness, inner struggles, anger, the usual stuff—in a pleasant, rather than jarring way. The French one-man project writes on acoustic guitars and builds on it such instruments as the cello, shakuhachi, and, yes, clarinet—but no electric guitars in sight. It’s a powerful concept and worked very well on Abysses, to the delight of the venerable Emya. Following up is always tricky, but a new album is here to continue the journey; how does Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute stand up?

I should admit straightaway that I didn’t love Abysses. On paper, it’s right up my alley—gorgeous dark and neo folk music with a beating heart from black metal- but I found that its lack of immediacy meant it didn’t work so well for me as it did for Emya (and a lot of you). Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute—Under the Black Storm – The Star and the Fall—challenged my preconceived biases fast with “Un Voile sur l’Azur,” a calming, peaceful tune that utilizes bagpipes and whistles from Geoffroy Dell’Aria (Les Bâtards du Nord, Épaves) to stunning effect. Similarly, “Remembrances” is a gorgeous song in a similar vein, with compelling acoustic guitar and a beautiful hurdy-gurdy lead that has placed it among my most-listened-to songs over the past few weeks. It is evocative—mesmerizing, even—with an appropriately strong sense of melancholy and nostalgia that hangs over Sous l’Orage Noir in the best possible way.

As alluded to above, there is a strong diversity of instruments across Sous l’Orage Noir, thanks in part to a variety of guest musicians. Raphaël Verguin (In Cauda Venenum, Psygnosis) provides cello for “Ad Vesperam,” Vittorio Sabelli (Dawn of a Dark Age) performs clarinet for “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” and “L’Astre et la Chute,” and there’s even a harp from Laurène Telennaria (Orkhys). Similarly, not all tracks are instrumental, with singing and a few growls (Judith De Lotharingie of Ofdrykkja and Wÿntër Ärvń himself, respectively) making rare appearances throughout. Many of these elements were present in Abysses, of course, but I love the way the songwriting, production, and album direction support them. The way Sabelli’s clarinet emerges as if from the titular fog in “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” is so memorable, as is the way “Appelé à l’Abîme” builds and builds before Telennaria’s singing descends as if from a great distance. Wÿntër Ärvń demonstrates excellent songwriting on Sous l’Orage Noir, like the best of October Falls, while taking influence from across the French metal scene.

There are only two things I don’t love about Sous l’Orage Noir (a great thing to be able to say for a dark folk album). The first is that I’m not convinced the growls work with the music. While I understand the relation to black metal, I think Wÿntër Ärvń’s is too removed from the original style—his hoarse, rough growling is a stark contrast to a song as lovely as “Ad Vesperam,” and breaks my immersion a bit. It’s not even a bad choice—the backdrop of chants and percussion supports it really well, but the song itself is almost peaceful up to that point. The second is that I don’t think the back half of the album does enough to distinguish itself from the first four or five tracks, making Sous l’Orage Noir feel a bit front-loaded. I don’t love the melody in “L’Astre et la Chute, for example;” it feels passive, while “Sous L’Orage Noir” leans a bit too much on repetition. Neither are bad songs, but they don’t do much to keep up the momentum from the openers.

On the other hand, these are the same qualities that make it so easy to load Wÿntër Ärvń, close your eyes, and get carried away by the music. There is a phenomenal sense of flow to Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute that complements its style so well. Whether you’re a fan of metal or folk, there’s something to love here. In my mind, Sous l’Orage Noir is a step up from Abysses, and has made me a real fan of Wÿntër Ärvń— I can’t wait to see where the music flows from here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Website: facebook.com/wynterarvnneofolk
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AntiqRecords #DawnOfADarkAge #Épaves #FrenchMetal #InCaudaVenenum #LesBâtardsDuNord #Mar25 #Neofolk #OctoberFalls #Ofdrykkja #Orkhys #Psygnosis #Review #Reviews #SousLOrageNoirLAstreEtLaChute #WÿntërÄrvń

Wÿntër Ärvń – Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute Review

By Twelve

Wÿntër Ärvn is a really cool project. It takes its inspiration from black metal of the ’90s and channels it into an almost fully acoustic and almost fully instrumental framework, building on many familiar feelings from that space—bitterness, inner struggles, anger, the usual stuff—in a pleasant, rather than jarring way. The French one-man project writes on acoustic guitars and builds on it such instruments as the cello, shakuhachi, and, yes, clarinet—but no electric guitars in sight. It’s a powerful concept and worked very well on Abysses, to the delight of the venerable Emya. Following up is always tricky, but a new album is here to continue the journey; how does Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute stand up?

I should admit straightaway that I didn’t love Abysses. On paper, it’s right up my alley—gorgeous dark and neo folk music with a beating heart from black metal- but I found that its lack of immediacy meant it didn’t work so well for me as it did for Emya (and a lot of you). Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute—Under the Black Storm – The Star and the Fall—challenged my preconceived biases fast with “Un Voile sur l’Azur,” a calming, peaceful tune that utilizes bagpipes and whistles from Geoffroy Dell’Aria (Les Bâtards du Nord, Épaves) to stunning effect. Similarly, “Remembrances” is a gorgeous song in a similar vein, with compelling acoustic guitar and a beautiful hurdy-gurdy lead that has placed it among my most-listened-to songs over the past few weeks. It is evocative—mesmerizing, even—with an appropriately strong sense of melancholy and nostalgia that hangs over Sous l’Orage Noir in the best possible way.

As alluded to above, there is a strong diversity of instruments across Sous l’Orage Noir, thanks in part to a variety of guest musicians. Raphaël Verguin (In Cauda Venenum, Psygnosis) provides cello for “Ad Vesperam,” Vittorio Sabelli (Dawn of a Dark Age) performs clarinet for “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” and “L’Astre et la Chute,” and there’s even a harp from Laurène Telennaria (Orkhys). Similarly, not all tracks are instrumental, with singing and a few growls (Judith De Lotharingie of Ofdrykkja and Wÿntër Ärvń himself, respectively) making rare appearances throughout. Many of these elements were present in Abysses, of course, but I love the way the songwriting, production, and album direction support them. The way Sabelli’s clarinet emerges as if from the titular fog in “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” is so memorable, as is the way “Appelé à l’Abîme” builds and builds before Telennaria’s singing descends as if from a great distance. Wÿntër Ärvń demonstrates excellent songwriting on Sous l’Orage Noir, like the best of October Falls, while taking influence from across the French metal scene.

There are only two things I don’t love about Sous l’Orage Noir (a great thing to be able to say for a dark folk album). The first is that I’m not convinced the growls work with the music. While I understand the relation to black metal, I think Wÿntër Ärvń’s is too removed from the original style—his hoarse, rough growling is a stark contrast to a song as lovely as “Ad Vesperam,” and breaks my immersion a bit. It’s not even a bad choice—the backdrop of chants and percussion supports it really well, but the song itself is almost peaceful up to that point. The second is that I don’t think the back half of the album does enough to distinguish itself from the first four or five tracks, making Sous l’Orage Noir feel a bit front-loaded. I don’t love the melody in “L’Astre et la Chute, for example;” it feels passive, while “Sous L’Orage Noir” leans a bit too much on repetition. Neither are bad songs, but they don’t do much to keep up the momentum from the openers.

On the other hand, these are the same qualities that make it so easy to load Wÿntër Ärvń, close your eyes, and get carried away by the music. There is a phenomenal sense of flow to Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute that complements its style so well. Whether you’re a fan of metal or folk, there’s something to love here. In my mind, Sous l’Orage Noir is a step up from Abysses, and has made me a real fan of Wÿntër Ärvń— I can’t wait to see where the music flows from here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Website: facebook.com/wynterarvnneofolk
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AntiqRecords #DawnOfADarkAge #Épaves #FrenchMetal #InCaudaVenenum #LesBâtardsDuNord #Mar25 #Neofolk #OctoberFalls #Ofdrykkja #Orkhys #Psygnosis #Review #Reviews #SousLOrageNoirLAstreEtLaChute #WÿntërÄrvń