#folkmetal — Public Fediverse posts

#2025 #35 #Cemican #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #HeavyMetal #MTheoryAudio #MelodicDeathMetal #MexicanMetal #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #UKUUkAnkilMayakaaj

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Guadalajara, Mexico, folk-death septet Cemican caught my attention way back in 2019 with their third record, In Ohtli Teoyohtica In Miquiztli. Boasting strong riffcraft and a penchant for chimeric songwriting, Cemican’s unique style and compelling subject matter challenged what I expected from the death metal scene at the time. Focused on bringing to the fore the sounds, rhythms, and even the language of pre-Mexican indigenous peoples (specifically, Mayan), Cemican’s mission serves a cultural spirit lost to time colonialism. Depicting tales of ancient Mayan gods and legends, and based on the mysticism and ideology of Mayan culture, upcoming fourth outing, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, quickly earned my undivided attention.

U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sees Cemican at their heaviest and most adventurous yet. Pounding drums of various disciplines hit with the impact of a titan’s fist on sacred ground, as roaring growls and ethereal chants swirl amongst stomping riffs and tempestuous tremolos. Soaring atop these storming pyrotechnics, an assortment of flutes (played by no fewer than five of Cemican’s seven musicians) sing ancestral melodies, sometimes in lockstep with the modern metallics, other times as an uplifting counterpoint. A rebellious heavy metal spirit influences a fair portion of Cemican’s songwriting this time around, going so far as to step boldly into the spotlight and overwrite the record’s death metal core entirely, twice (“El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas,” “¿Dónde estás?”). Regardless of what corporeal form it takes, though, Cemican’s sound is epic, ancient, and massive.

At an hour and seven minutes, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sounds like a bloated mass desperate for self-editing on paper. Yet, six years of careful attention to detail result in 12 songs that all have something interesting and memorable to take home, and a wealth of ideas that support and even elevate those takeaways. Killer riffs in “Yóok ‘ol kaab Maya” work in tandem with wild flutes, squealing solos, and a somewhat unsteady chorus that feels natural in context with the composition, where it would feel clumsy elsewhere. Brutal speed intensifies “Los Guardianes de la Tierra” as blackened winds chill companion piece “Hun-Came” to the bone, creating a thrilling but well-timed shift from the chunky grooves of earlier bangers like “Tán tí le Xibalba” and powerful opener “Kukulkán Wakah Chan.” Even Cemican’s long-form excursions, which build sturdy bridges between tribal instrumentals, deadly heft, and ethereal melodicism, boast a compelling multitude of ideas, buttery-smooth transitions, and rich textures that easily justify their protracted runtimes (“Viaje Astral del Quetzal de Fuego,” “Horizonte de Almas”).

Of course, with so many ideas stuffed into one work, there are bound to be some kinks. For Cemican, those hiccups largely surface when they shift styles with no telegraphing. Such outliers as “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” and “¿Dónde estás?” are good songs on their own. In particular, it’s surprising how successful “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” is as a heavy/power epic. However, there’s very little connective tissue—right down to the lighter and cleaner guitar tone—that explains its existence in the album context, other than subject matter. “¿Dónde estás?” damages album cohesion in much the same way, and with somewhat less success than its album-mate due to less memorable writing and ballad-like wistfulness. Without these tracks, not only would U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj clock in at a more reasonable 56 minutes total, but it would feel more consistent and smooth. That said, “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” would’ve made an excellent bonus track or even just a separate single that I’d happily recruit for playlist duty.

In sum, Cemican solidify their status as one of the more interesting acts in the death metal universe. Their adoption of indigenous music as part of their formula goes a long way towards setting them apart from their peers sonically, but it’s their fearless songwriting and meticulous detailing that seals the deal. U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj represents their most refined and compelling work to date, and while it has its missteps, even those would find purchase on another record better built to support them. It just goes to show how talented and skilled Cemican are. With this in mind, I look forward to spending more time enjoying U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, a qualified, but unique triumph.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Websites: cemican1.bandcamp.com/album/u-kuukankil-mayakaaj | facebook.com/pages/CEMICAN/320421353267
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#cemican #deathmetal #folkmetal #heavymetal #mtheoryaudio #melodicdeathmetal

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-10-30 · 11:24 UTC

#2025 #35 #Cemican #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #HeavyMetal #MTheoryAudio #MelodicDeathMetal #MexicanMetal #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #UKUUkAnkilMayakaaj

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Guadalajara, Mexico, folk-death septet Cemican caught my attention way back in 2019 with their third record, In Ohtli Teoyohtica In Miquiztli. Boasting strong riffcraft and a penchant for chimeric songwriting, Cemican’s unique style and compelling subject matter challenged what I expected from the death metal scene at the time. Focused on bringing to the fore the sounds, rhythms, and even the language of pre-Mexican indigenous peoples (specifically, Mayan), Cemican’s mission serves a cultural spirit lost to time colonialism. Depicting tales of ancient Mayan gods and legends, and based on the mysticism and ideology of Mayan culture, upcoming fourth outing, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, quickly earned my undivided attention.

U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sees Cemican at their heaviest and most adventurous yet. Pounding drums of various disciplines hit with the impact of a titan’s fist on sacred ground, as roaring growls and ethereal chants swirl amongst stomping riffs and tempestuous tremolos. Soaring atop these storming pyrotechnics, an assortment of flutes (played by no fewer than five of Cemican’s seven musicians) sing ancestral melodies, sometimes in lockstep with the modern metallics, other times as an uplifting counterpoint. A rebellious heavy metal spirit influences a fair portion of Cemican’s songwriting this time around, going so far as to step boldly into the spotlight and overwrite the record’s death metal core entirely, twice (“El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas,” “¿Dónde estás?”). Regardless of what corporeal form it takes, though, Cemican’s sound is epic, ancient, and massive.

At an hour and seven minutes, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sounds like a bloated mass desperate for self-editing on paper. Yet, six years of careful attention to detail result in 12 songs that all have something interesting and memorable to take home, and a wealth of ideas that support and even elevate those takeaways. Killer riffs in “Yóok ‘ol kaab Maya” work in tandem with wild flutes, squealing solos, and a somewhat unsteady chorus that feels natural in context with the composition, where it would feel clumsy elsewhere. Brutal speed intensifies “Los Guardianes de la Tierra” as blackened winds chill companion piece “Hun-Came” to the bone, creating a thrilling but well-timed shift from the chunky grooves of earlier bangers like “Tán tí le Xibalba” and powerful opener “Kukulkán Wakah Chan.” Even Cemican’s long-form excursions, which build sturdy bridges between tribal instrumentals, deadly heft, and ethereal melodicism, boast a compelling multitude of ideas, buttery-smooth transitions, and rich textures that easily justify their protracted runtimes (“Viaje Astral del Quetzal de Fuego,” “Horizonte de Almas”).

Of course, with so many ideas stuffed into one work, there are bound to be some kinks. For Cemican, those hiccups largely surface when they shift styles with no telegraphing. Such outliers as “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” and “¿Dónde estás?” are good songs on their own. In particular, it’s surprising how successful “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” is as a heavy/power epic. However, there’s very little connective tissue—right down to the lighter and cleaner guitar tone—that explains its existence in the album context, other than subject matter. “¿Dónde estás?” damages album cohesion in much the same way, and with somewhat less success than its album-mate due to less memorable writing and ballad-like wistfulness. Without these tracks, not only would U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj clock in at a more reasonable 56 minutes total, but it would feel more consistent and smooth. That said, “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” would’ve made an excellent bonus track or even just a separate single that I’d happily recruit for playlist duty.

In sum, Cemican solidify their status as one of the more interesting acts in the death metal universe. Their adoption of indigenous music as part of their formula goes a long way towards setting them apart from their peers sonically, but it’s their fearless songwriting and meticulous detailing that seals the deal. U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj represents their most refined and compelling work to date, and while it has its missteps, even those would find purchase on another record better built to support them. It just goes to show how talented and skilled Cemican are. With this in mind, I look forward to spending more time enjoying U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, a qualified, but unique triumph.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Websites: cemican1.bandcamp.com/album/u-kuukankil-mayakaaj | facebook.com/pages/CEMICAN/320421353267
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#cemican #deathmetal #folkmetal #heavymetal #mtheoryaudio #melodicdeathmetal

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-10-30 · 11:24 UTC

#2025 #35 #Cemican #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #HeavyMetal #MTheoryAudio #MelodicDeathMetal #MexicanMetal #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #UKUUkAnkilMayakaaj

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Guadalajara, Mexico, folk-death septet Cemican caught my attention way back in 2019 with their third record, In Ohtli Teoyohtica In Miquiztli. Boasting strong riffcraft and a penchant for chimeric songwriting, Cemican’s unique style and compelling subject matter challenged what I expected from the death metal scene at the time. Focused on bringing to the fore the sounds, rhythms, and even the language of pre-Mexican indigenous peoples (specifically, Mayan), Cemican’s mission serves a cultural spirit lost to time colonialism. Depicting tales of ancient Mayan gods and legends, and based on the mysticism and ideology of Mayan culture, upcoming fourth outing, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, quickly earned my undivided attention.

U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sees Cemican at their heaviest and most adventurous yet. Pounding drums of various disciplines hit with the impact of a titan’s fist on sacred ground, as roaring growls and ethereal chants swirl amongst stomping riffs and tempestuous tremolos. Soaring atop these storming pyrotechnics, an assortment of flutes (played by no fewer than five of Cemican’s seven musicians) sing ancestral melodies, sometimes in lockstep with the modern metallics, other times as an uplifting counterpoint. A rebellious heavy metal spirit influences a fair portion of Cemican’s songwriting this time around, going so far as to step boldly into the spotlight and overwrite the record’s death metal core entirely, twice (“El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas,” “¿Dónde estás?”). Regardless of what corporeal form it takes, though, Cemican’s sound is epic, ancient, and massive.

At an hour and seven minutes, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sounds like a bloated mass desperate for self-editing on paper. Yet, six years of careful attention to detail result in 12 songs that all have something interesting and memorable to take home, and a wealth of ideas that support and even elevate those takeaways. Killer riffs in “Yóok ‘ol kaab Maya” work in tandem with wild flutes, squealing solos, and a somewhat unsteady chorus that feels natural in context with the composition, where it would feel clumsy elsewhere. Brutal speed intensifies “Los Guardianes de la Tierra” as blackened winds chill companion piece “Hun-Came” to the bone, creating a thrilling but well-timed shift from the chunky grooves of earlier bangers like “Tán tí le Xibalba” and powerful opener “Kukulkán Wakah Chan.” Even Cemican’s long-form excursions, which build sturdy bridges between tribal instrumentals, deadly heft, and ethereal melodicism, boast a compelling multitude of ideas, buttery-smooth transitions, and rich textures that easily justify their protracted runtimes (“Viaje Astral del Quetzal de Fuego,” “Horizonte de Almas”).

Of course, with so many ideas stuffed into one work, there are bound to be some kinks. For Cemican, those hiccups largely surface when they shift styles with no telegraphing. Such outliers as “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” and “¿Dónde estás?” are good songs on their own. In particular, it’s surprising how successful “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” is as a heavy/power epic. However, there’s very little connective tissue—right down to the lighter and cleaner guitar tone—that explains its existence in the album context, other than subject matter. “¿Dónde estás?” damages album cohesion in much the same way, and with somewhat less success than its album-mate due to less memorable writing and ballad-like wistfulness. Without these tracks, not only would U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj clock in at a more reasonable 56 minutes total, but it would feel more consistent and smooth. That said, “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” would’ve made an excellent bonus track or even just a separate single that I’d happily recruit for playlist duty.

In sum, Cemican solidify their status as one of the more interesting acts in the death metal universe. Their adoption of indigenous music as part of their formula goes a long way towards setting them apart from their peers sonically, but it’s their fearless songwriting and meticulous detailing that seals the deal. U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj represents their most refined and compelling work to date, and while it has its missteps, even those would find purchase on another record better built to support them. It just goes to show how talented and skilled Cemican are. With this in mind, I look forward to spending more time enjoying U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, a qualified, but unique triumph.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Websites: cemican1.bandcamp.com/album/u-kuukankil-mayakaaj | facebook.com/pages/CEMICAN/320421353267
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#cemican #deathmetal #folkmetal #heavymetal #mtheoryaudio #melodicdeathmetal

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-10-30 · 11:24 UTC

#2025 #35 #Cemican #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #HeavyMetal #MTheoryAudio #MelodicDeathMetal #MexicanMetal #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #UKUUkAnkilMayakaaj

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Guadalajara, Mexico, folk-death septet Cemican caught my attention way back in 2019 with their third record, In Ohtli Teoyohtica In Miquiztli. Boasting strong riffcraft and a penchant for chimeric songwriting, Cemican’s unique style and compelling subject matter challenged what I expected from the death metal scene at the time. Focused on bringing to the fore the sounds, rhythms, and even the language of pre-Mexican indigenous peoples (specifically, Mayan), Cemican’s mission serves a cultural spirit lost to time colonialism. Depicting tales of ancient Mayan gods and legends, and based on the mysticism and ideology of Mayan culture, upcoming fourth outing, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, quickly earned my undivided attention.

U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sees Cemican at their heaviest and most adventurous yet. Pounding drums of various disciplines hit with the impact of a titan’s fist on sacred ground, as roaring growls and ethereal chants swirl amongst stomping riffs and tempestuous tremolos. Soaring atop these storming pyrotechnics, an assortment of flutes (played by no fewer than five of Cemican’s seven musicians) sing ancestral melodies, sometimes in lockstep with the modern metallics, other times as an uplifting counterpoint. A rebellious heavy metal spirit influences a fair portion of Cemican’s songwriting this time around, going so far as to step boldly into the spotlight and overwrite the record’s death metal core entirely, twice (“El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas,” “¿Dónde estás?”). Regardless of what corporeal form it takes, though, Cemican’s sound is epic, ancient, and massive.

At an hour and seven minutes, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sounds like a bloated mass desperate for self-editing on paper. Yet, six years of careful attention to detail result in 12 songs that all have something interesting and memorable to take home, and a wealth of ideas that support and even elevate those takeaways. Killer riffs in “Yóok ‘ol kaab Maya” work in tandem with wild flutes, squealing solos, and a somewhat unsteady chorus that feels natural in context with the composition, where it would feel clumsy elsewhere. Brutal speed intensifies “Los Guardianes de la Tierra” as blackened winds chill companion piece “Hun-Came” to the bone, creating a thrilling but well-timed shift from the chunky grooves of earlier bangers like “Tán tí le Xibalba” and powerful opener “Kukulkán Wakah Chan.” Even Cemican’s long-form excursions, which build sturdy bridges between tribal instrumentals, deadly heft, and ethereal melodicism, boast a compelling multitude of ideas, buttery-smooth transitions, and rich textures that easily justify their protracted runtimes (“Viaje Astral del Quetzal de Fuego,” “Horizonte de Almas”).

Of course, with so many ideas stuffed into one work, there are bound to be some kinks. For Cemican, those hiccups largely surface when they shift styles with no telegraphing. Such outliers as “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” and “¿Dónde estás?” are good songs on their own. In particular, it’s surprising how successful “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” is as a heavy/power epic. However, there’s very little connective tissue—right down to the lighter and cleaner guitar tone—that explains its existence in the album context, other than subject matter. “¿Dónde estás?” damages album cohesion in much the same way, and with somewhat less success than its album-mate due to less memorable writing and ballad-like wistfulness. Without these tracks, not only would U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj clock in at a more reasonable 56 minutes total, but it would feel more consistent and smooth. That said, “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” would’ve made an excellent bonus track or even just a separate single that I’d happily recruit for playlist duty.

In sum, Cemican solidify their status as one of the more interesting acts in the death metal universe. Their adoption of indigenous music as part of their formula goes a long way towards setting them apart from their peers sonically, but it’s their fearless songwriting and meticulous detailing that seals the deal. U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj represents their most refined and compelling work to date, and while it has its missteps, even those would find purchase on another record better built to support them. It just goes to show how talented and skilled Cemican are. With this in mind, I look forward to spending more time enjoying U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, a qualified, but unique triumph.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Websites: cemican1.bandcamp.com/album/u-kuukankil-mayakaaj | facebook.com/pages/CEMICAN/320421353267
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#ukuukankilmayakaaj #reviews #review #oct25 #mexicanmetal #melodicdeathmetal

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-10-30 · 11:24 UTC

#2025 #35 #Cemican #DeathMetal #FolkMetal #HeavyMetal #MTheoryAudio #MelodicDeathMetal #MexicanMetal #Oct25 #Review #Reviews #UKUUkAnkilMayakaaj

By Kenstrosity

Hailing from Guadalajara, Mexico, folk-death septet Cemican caught my attention way back in 2019 with their third record, In Ohtli Teoyohtica In Miquiztli. Boasting strong riffcraft and a penchant for chimeric songwriting, Cemican’s unique style and compelling subject matter challenged what I expected from the death metal scene at the time. Focused on bringing to the fore the sounds, rhythms, and even the language of pre-Mexican indigenous peoples (specifically, Mayan), Cemican’s mission serves a cultural spirit lost to time colonialism. Depicting tales of ancient Mayan gods and legends, and based on the mysticism and ideology of Mayan culture, upcoming fourth outing, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, quickly earned my undivided attention.

U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sees Cemican at their heaviest and most adventurous yet. Pounding drums of various disciplines hit with the impact of a titan’s fist on sacred ground, as roaring growls and ethereal chants swirl amongst stomping riffs and tempestuous tremolos. Soaring atop these storming pyrotechnics, an assortment of flutes (played by no fewer than five of Cemican’s seven musicians) sing ancestral melodies, sometimes in lockstep with the modern metallics, other times as an uplifting counterpoint. A rebellious heavy metal spirit influences a fair portion of Cemican’s songwriting this time around, going so far as to step boldly into the spotlight and overwrite the record’s death metal core entirely, twice (“El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas,” “¿Dónde estás?”). Regardless of what corporeal form it takes, though, Cemican’s sound is epic, ancient, and massive.

At an hour and seven minutes, U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj sounds like a bloated mass desperate for self-editing on paper. Yet, six years of careful attention to detail result in 12 songs that all have something interesting and memorable to take home, and a wealth of ideas that support and even elevate those takeaways. Killer riffs in “Yóok ‘ol kaab Maya” work in tandem with wild flutes, squealing solos, and a somewhat unsteady chorus that feels natural in context with the composition, where it would feel clumsy elsewhere. Brutal speed intensifies “Los Guardianes de la Tierra” as blackened winds chill companion piece “Hun-Came” to the bone, creating a thrilling but well-timed shift from the chunky grooves of earlier bangers like “Tán tí le Xibalba” and powerful opener “Kukulkán Wakah Chan.” Even Cemican’s long-form excursions, which build sturdy bridges between tribal instrumentals, deadly heft, and ethereal melodicism, boast a compelling multitude of ideas, buttery-smooth transitions, and rich textures that easily justify their protracted runtimes (“Viaje Astral del Quetzal de Fuego,” “Horizonte de Almas”).

Of course, with so many ideas stuffed into one work, there are bound to be some kinks. For Cemican, those hiccups largely surface when they shift styles with no telegraphing. Such outliers as “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” and “¿Dónde estás?” are good songs on their own. In particular, it’s surprising how successful “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” is as a heavy/power epic. However, there’s very little connective tissue—right down to the lighter and cleaner guitar tone—that explains its existence in the album context, other than subject matter. “¿Dónde estás?” damages album cohesion in much the same way, and with somewhat less success than its album-mate due to less memorable writing and ballad-like wistfulness. Without these tracks, not only would U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj clock in at a more reasonable 56 minutes total, but it would feel more consistent and smooth. That said, “El Niño que Contemplaba a las Estrellas” would’ve made an excellent bonus track or even just a separate single that I’d happily recruit for playlist duty.

In sum, Cemican solidify their status as one of the more interesting acts in the death metal universe. Their adoption of indigenous music as part of their formula goes a long way towards setting them apart from their peers sonically, but it’s their fearless songwriting and meticulous detailing that seals the deal. U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj represents their most refined and compelling work to date, and while it has its missteps, even those would find purchase on another record better built to support them. It just goes to show how talented and skilled Cemican are. With this in mind, I look forward to spending more time enjoying U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj, a qualified, but unique triumph.

Rating: Very Good!
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: M-Theory Audio
Websites: cemican1.bandcamp.com/album/u-kuukankil-mayakaaj | facebook.com/pages/CEMICAN/320421353267
Releases Worldwide: October 31st, 2025

#cemican #deathmetal #folkmetal #heavymetal #mtheoryaudio #melodicdeathmetal

El Pregoner del Metall @[email protected] · 2025-09-21 · 01:16 UTC

PANOPTICON (Estats Units) presenta nou EP: "The Poppies Bloom For No King" #Panopticon #AtmosphericBlack #FolkMetal #Setembre2025 #EstatsUnits #NouEp #Metall #Metal #MúsicaMetal #MetalMusic

#panopticon #atmosphericblack #folkmetal #setembre2025 #estatsunits #nouep

UK @[email protected] · 2025-08-02 · 03:44 UTC

https://www.europesays.com/uk/310944/ Völur & Cares – Breathless Spirit Review #2025 #4.0 #ApocalypseOrchestra #Apocalyptica #Aug25 #BarrenEarth #BellWitch #BlackthroneProductions #BloodCeremony #BreathlessSpirit #CanadianMetal #Cares #DoomMetal #Drone #Entertainment #FolkMetal #HollowEarth #jazz #KingGoat #music #Review #Reviews #UK #UnitedKingdom #Volur #Völur&Cares

#volur #unitedkingdom #uk #reviews #review #music

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-08-01 · 16:25 UTC

#2025 #40 #ApocalypseOrchestra #Apocalyptica #Aug25 #BarrenEarth #BellWitch #BlackthroneProductions #BloodCeremony #BreathlessSpirit #CanadianMetal #Cares #DoomMetal #Drone #FolkMetal #HollowEarth #Jazz #KingGoat #Review #Reviews #Volur #VölurCares

By Twelve

“Avant-garde doom metal from Canada. Do I really need to say more to pique your interest?” So said I a little under five years ago, closing out my Things You Might Have Missed feature for Völur’s Death Cult. The Toronto-based project launched itself to the top of my end-of-year list in 2020, owing to their expert fusion of an impressive blend of sounds and genres primarily rooted in doom metal. Wielding the violin like a sledgehammer, Death Cult featured intelligent, clever compositions that really impressed me in 2020. Now, at last, they’re back for their fourth full-length, Breathless Spirit, with one key change: a collaboration with Cares—UK/Canadian producer James Beardmore—whose influence aims to transcend an already-impressive trio to Valhallan heights. However do they fare?

But first, a correction: in reviewing Death Cult, I noted that “the guitars do not dominate, nor do they crush the listener; instead, they unsettle, distort, and act as anchor for the vocals and electric violins that make up the true meat of the music.” Völur has no guitarist—only Lucas Gadke (Blood Ceremony), who plays bass (in addition to vocals and piano). The electric violins are indeed the “true meat of the music;” Völur create their uniquely haunting sound through intense distortion on Laura Bates’s violin and viola,1 giving them a surprisingly heavy metal basis to work with—certainly I’d never have thought there’s no guitar in the blackened doom mania that is “Windbourne Sorcery II,” and I’m still not 100% sure I believe it. Previously, I compared the group to a gloomy “Apocapyse Orchestra meets King Goat” project, but, in hindsight, Apocalyptica might have been a better base point to use.

Realistically, though, none of that matters because Völur is unique in too many ways to build adequate comparisons, and Cares has only strengthened that position. Where Death Cult emphasized the heavier, doom metal basis of Völur’s material, Breathless Spirit leans more classical, a change that highlights the incredible range of the music, passing also through doom metal, black metal, folk, jazz, and drone along the way—and all of it done with “just” a violinist, bassist, and drummer (Justin Ruppel). What’s extra interesting (on an already very interesting record) is that Cares contributes piano, synthesizers, theremin, and textures. His production adds layer upon layer of grimy, modern darkness that contributes heavily to the metal feel of Breathless Spirit. It is, put simply, extremely experimental. It also works magnificently.

From the classically-inspired2 “Hearth,” Breathless Spirit’s instrumental intro whose motifs just keep reappearing, to the towering doom metal conclusion of “Death in Solitude,” Völur are as engaging as they are unpredictable. I mentioned that “Windbourne Sorcery II” has the album’s blackened highlight, with Bates’s utterly unhinged shrieks atop a steady alarm of urgency from her violin. That same song has an almost funeral buildup, a chilling passage I compare favorably with Bell Witch’s Mirror Reaper3. The title track is the highlight for me; Gadke’s roars are front and center, and all of his vocals have depth and command to them, recalling Barren Earth’s On Lonely Towers.4 Guest vocals from Amy Bowles (ex-Hollow Earth) are a fantastic counter to his baritone cleans, and the brief improvizations a third of the way in is chaotic and delightful. You can dance to the haunting middle section, but it ends on a sense of heavy, epic urgency. Whatever style they try, Völur & Cares can’t help but create something beautiful. Much credit also belongs to Ruppel, whose measured drumming keeps Breathless Spirit grounded in a steady, doom-laden theme that serves it well.

I’ve run out of words, but there’s so much more to say. Breathless Spirit is a hard album to describe with any level of brevity. It explores worlds I’ve only hinted at here, and is much stronger than the sum of its parts. It’s not perfect—”On Drangey” is perhaps a touch too long for my preferences—but it hardly has to be. Breathless Spirit should enshrine Völur and Cares as experts in the experimental. Equal parts beautiful, haunting, and dark, Breathless Spirit defies my vocabulary—you simply must listen for yourself.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Blackthrone Productions
Websites: volur.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/VolurDoom
Releases Worldwide: August 8th, 2025

#apocalypseorchestra #apocalyptica #aug25 #barrenearth #bellwitch #blackthroneproductions

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-08-01 · 16:25 UTC

#2025 #40 #ApocalypseOrchestra #Apocalyptica #Aug25 #BarrenEarth #BellWitch #BlackthroneProductions #BloodCeremony #BreathlessSpirit #CanadianMetal #Cares #DoomMetal #Drone #FolkMetal #HollowEarth #Jazz #KingGoat #Review #Reviews #Volur #VölurCares

By Twelve

“Avant-garde doom metal from Canada. Do I really need to say more to pique your interest?” So said I a little under five years ago, closing out my Things You Might Have Missed feature for Völur’s Death Cult. The Toronto-based project launched itself to the top of my end-of-year list in 2020, owing to their expert fusion of an impressive blend of sounds and genres primarily rooted in doom metal. Wielding the violin like a sledgehammer, Death Cult featured intelligent, clever compositions that really impressed me in 2020. Now, at last, they’re back for their fourth full-length, Breathless Spirit, with one key change: a collaboration with Cares—UK/Canadian producer James Beardmore—whose influence aims to transcend an already-impressive trio to Valhallan heights. However do they fare?

But first, a correction: in reviewing Death Cult, I noted that “the guitars do not dominate, nor do they crush the listener; instead, they unsettle, distort, and act as anchor for the vocals and electric violins that make up the true meat of the music.” Völur has no guitarist—only Lucas Gadke (Blood Ceremony), who plays bass (in addition to vocals and piano). The electric violins are indeed the “true meat of the music;” Völur create their uniquely haunting sound through intense distortion on Laura Bates’s violin and viola,1 giving them a surprisingly heavy metal basis to work with—certainly I’d never have thought there’s no guitar in the blackened doom mania that is “Windbourne Sorcery II,” and I’m still not 100% sure I believe it. Previously, I compared the group to a gloomy “Apocapyse Orchestra meets King Goat” project, but, in hindsight, Apocalyptica might have been a better base point to use.

Realistically, though, none of that matters because Völur is unique in too many ways to build adequate comparisons, and Cares has only strengthened that position. Where Death Cult emphasized the heavier, doom metal basis of Völur’s material, Breathless Spirit leans more classical, a change that highlights the incredible range of the music, passing also through doom metal, black metal, folk, jazz, and drone along the way—and all of it done with “just” a violinist, bassist, and drummer (Justin Ruppel). What’s extra interesting (on an already very interesting record) is that Cares contributes piano, synthesizers, theremin, and textures. His production adds layer upon layer of grimy, modern darkness that contributes heavily to the metal feel of Breathless Spirit. It is, put simply, extremely experimental. It also works magnificently.

From the classically-inspired2 “Hearth,” Breathless Spirit’s instrumental intro whose motifs just keep reappearing, to the towering doom metal conclusion of “Death in Solitude,” Völur are as engaging as they are unpredictable. I mentioned that “Windbourne Sorcery II” has the album’s blackened highlight, with Bates’s utterly unhinged shrieks atop a steady alarm of urgency from her violin. That same song has an almost funeral buildup, a chilling passage I compare favorably with Bell Witch’s Mirror Reaper3. The title track is the highlight for me; Gadke’s roars are front and center, and all of his vocals have depth and command to them, recalling Barren Earth’s On Lonely Towers.4 Guest vocals from Amy Bowles (ex-Hollow Earth) are a fantastic counter to his baritone cleans, and the brief improvizations a third of the way in is chaotic and delightful. You can dance to the haunting middle section, but it ends on a sense of heavy, epic urgency. Whatever style they try, Völur & Cares can’t help but create something beautiful. Much credit also belongs to Ruppel, whose measured drumming keeps Breathless Spirit grounded in a steady, doom-laden theme that serves it well.

I’ve run out of words, but there’s so much more to say. Breathless Spirit is a hard album to describe with any level of brevity. It explores worlds I’ve only hinted at here, and is much stronger than the sum of its parts. It’s not perfect—”On Drangey” is perhaps a touch too long for my preferences—but it hardly has to be. Breathless Spirit should enshrine Völur and Cares as experts in the experimental. Equal parts beautiful, haunting, and dark, Breathless Spirit defies my vocabulary—you simply must listen for yourself.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Blackthrone Productions
Websites: volur.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/VolurDoom
Releases Worldwide: August 8th, 2025

#apocalypseorchestra #apocalyptica #aug25 #barrenearth #bellwitch #blackthroneproductions

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-08-01 · 16:25 UTC

#2025 #40 #ApocalypseOrchestra #Apocalyptica #Aug25 #BarrenEarth #BellWitch #BlackthroneProductions #BloodCeremony #BreathlessSpirit #CanadianMetal #Cares #DoomMetal #Drone #FolkMetal #HollowEarth #Jazz #KingGoat #Review #Reviews #Volur #VölurCares

By Twelve

“Avant-garde doom metal from Canada. Do I really need to say more to pique your interest?” So said I a little under five years ago, closing out my Things You Might Have Missed feature for Völur’s Death Cult. The Toronto-based project launched itself to the top of my end-of-year list in 2020, owing to their expert fusion of an impressive blend of sounds and genres primarily rooted in doom metal. Wielding the violin like a sledgehammer, Death Cult featured intelligent, clever compositions that really impressed me in 2020. Now, at last, they’re back for their fourth full-length, Breathless Spirit, with one key change: a collaboration with Cares—UK/Canadian producer James Beardmore—whose influence aims to transcend an already-impressive trio to Valhallan heights. However do they fare?

But first, a correction: in reviewing Death Cult, I noted that “the guitars do not dominate, nor do they crush the listener; instead, they unsettle, distort, and act as anchor for the vocals and electric violins that make up the true meat of the music.” Völur has no guitarist—only Lucas Gadke (Blood Ceremony), who plays bass (in addition to vocals and piano). The electric violins are indeed the “true meat of the music;” Völur create their uniquely haunting sound through intense distortion on Laura Bates’s violin and viola,1 giving them a surprisingly heavy metal basis to work with—certainly I’d never have thought there’s no guitar in the blackened doom mania that is “Windbourne Sorcery II,” and I’m still not 100% sure I believe it. Previously, I compared the group to a gloomy “Apocapyse Orchestra meets King Goat” project, but, in hindsight, Apocalyptica might have been a better base point to use.

Realistically, though, none of that matters because Völur is unique in too many ways to build adequate comparisons, and Cares has only strengthened that position. Where Death Cult emphasized the heavier, doom metal basis of Völur’s material, Breathless Spirit leans more classical, a change that highlights the incredible range of the music, passing also through doom metal, black metal, folk, jazz, and drone along the way—and all of it done with “just” a violinist, bassist, and drummer (Justin Ruppel). What’s extra interesting (on an already very interesting record) is that Cares contributes piano, synthesizers, theremin, and textures. His production adds layer upon layer of grimy, modern darkness that contributes heavily to the metal feel of Breathless Spirit. It is, put simply, extremely experimental. It also works magnificently.

From the classically-inspired2 “Hearth,” Breathless Spirit’s instrumental intro whose motifs just keep reappearing, to the towering doom metal conclusion of “Death in Solitude,” Völur are as engaging as they are unpredictable. I mentioned that “Windbourne Sorcery II” has the album’s blackened highlight, with Bates’s utterly unhinged shrieks atop a steady alarm of urgency from her violin. That same song has an almost funeral buildup, a chilling passage I compare favorably with Bell Witch’s Mirror Reaper3. The title track is the highlight for me; Gadke’s roars are front and center, and all of his vocals have depth and command to them, recalling Barren Earth’s On Lonely Towers.4 Guest vocals from Amy Bowles (ex-Hollow Earth) are a fantastic counter to his baritone cleans, and the brief improvizations a third of the way in is chaotic and delightful. You can dance to the haunting middle section, but it ends on a sense of heavy, epic urgency. Whatever style they try, Völur & Cares can’t help but create something beautiful. Much credit also belongs to Ruppel, whose measured drumming keeps Breathless Spirit grounded in a steady, doom-laden theme that serves it well.

I’ve run out of words, but there’s so much more to say. Breathless Spirit is a hard album to describe with any level of brevity. It explores worlds I’ve only hinted at here, and is much stronger than the sum of its parts. It’s not perfect—”On Drangey” is perhaps a touch too long for my preferences—but it hardly has to be. Breathless Spirit should enshrine Völur and Cares as experts in the experimental. Equal parts beautiful, haunting, and dark, Breathless Spirit defies my vocabulary—you simply must listen for yourself.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Blackthrone Productions
Websites: volur.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/VolurDoom
Releases Worldwide: August 8th, 2025

#apocalypseorchestra #apocalyptica #aug25 #barrenearth #bellwitch #blackthroneproductions

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-08-01 · 16:25 UTC

#2025 #40 #ApocalypseOrchestra #Apocalyptica #Aug25 #BarrenEarth #BellWitch #BlackthroneProductions #BloodCeremony #BreathlessSpirit #CanadianMetal #Cares #DoomMetal #Drone #FolkMetal #HollowEarth #Jazz #KingGoat #Review #Reviews #Volur #VölurCares

By Twelve

“Avant-garde doom metal from Canada. Do I really need to say more to pique your interest?” So said I a little under five years ago, closing out my Things You Might Have Missed feature for Völur’s Death Cult. The Toronto-based project launched itself to the top of my end-of-year list in 2020, owing to their expert fusion of an impressive blend of sounds and genres primarily rooted in doom metal. Wielding the violin like a sledgehammer, Death Cult featured intelligent, clever compositions that really impressed me in 2020. Now, at last, they’re back for their fourth full-length, Breathless Spirit, with one key change: a collaboration with Cares—UK/Canadian producer James Beardmore—whose influence aims to transcend an already-impressive trio to Valhallan heights. However do they fare?

But first, a correction: in reviewing Death Cult, I noted that “the guitars do not dominate, nor do they crush the listener; instead, they unsettle, distort, and act as anchor for the vocals and electric violins that make up the true meat of the music.” Völur has no guitarist—only Lucas Gadke (Blood Ceremony), who plays bass (in addition to vocals and piano). The electric violins are indeed the “true meat of the music;” Völur create their uniquely haunting sound through intense distortion on Laura Bates’s violin and viola,1 giving them a surprisingly heavy metal basis to work with—certainly I’d never have thought there’s no guitar in the blackened doom mania that is “Windbourne Sorcery II,” and I’m still not 100% sure I believe it. Previously, I compared the group to a gloomy “Apocapyse Orchestra meets King Goat” project, but, in hindsight, Apocalyptica might have been a better base point to use.

Realistically, though, none of that matters because Völur is unique in too many ways to build adequate comparisons, and Cares has only strengthened that position. Where Death Cult emphasized the heavier, doom metal basis of Völur’s material, Breathless Spirit leans more classical, a change that highlights the incredible range of the music, passing also through doom metal, black metal, folk, jazz, and drone along the way—and all of it done with “just” a violinist, bassist, and drummer (Justin Ruppel). What’s extra interesting (on an already very interesting record) is that Cares contributes piano, synthesizers, theremin, and textures. His production adds layer upon layer of grimy, modern darkness that contributes heavily to the metal feel of Breathless Spirit. It is, put simply, extremely experimental. It also works magnificently.

From the classically-inspired2 “Hearth,” Breathless Spirit’s instrumental intro whose motifs just keep reappearing, to the towering doom metal conclusion of “Death in Solitude,” Völur are as engaging as they are unpredictable. I mentioned that “Windbourne Sorcery II” has the album’s blackened highlight, with Bates’s utterly unhinged shrieks atop a steady alarm of urgency from her violin. That same song has an almost funeral buildup, a chilling passage I compare favorably with Bell Witch’s Mirror Reaper3. The title track is the highlight for me; Gadke’s roars are front and center, and all of his vocals have depth and command to them, recalling Barren Earth’s On Lonely Towers.4 Guest vocals from Amy Bowles (ex-Hollow Earth) are a fantastic counter to his baritone cleans, and the brief improvizations a third of the way in is chaotic and delightful. You can dance to the haunting middle section, but it ends on a sense of heavy, epic urgency. Whatever style they try, Völur & Cares can’t help but create something beautiful. Much credit also belongs to Ruppel, whose measured drumming keeps Breathless Spirit grounded in a steady, doom-laden theme that serves it well.

I’ve run out of words, but there’s so much more to say. Breathless Spirit is a hard album to describe with any level of brevity. It explores worlds I’ve only hinted at here, and is much stronger than the sum of its parts. It’s not perfect—”On Drangey” is perhaps a touch too long for my preferences—but it hardly has to be. Breathless Spirit should enshrine Völur and Cares as experts in the experimental. Equal parts beautiful, haunting, and dark, Breathless Spirit defies my vocabulary—you simply must listen for yourself.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Blackthrone Productions
Websites: volur.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/VolurDoom
Releases Worldwide: August 8th, 2025

#volurcares #volur #reviews #review #kinggoat #jazz

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-08-01 · 16:25 UTC

#2025 #40 #ApocalypseOrchestra #Apocalyptica #Aug25 #BarrenEarth #BellWitch #BlackthroneProductions #BloodCeremony #BreathlessSpirit #CanadianMetal #Cares #DoomMetal #Drone #FolkMetal #HollowEarth #Jazz #KingGoat #Review #Reviews #Volur #VölurCares

By Twelve

“Avant-garde doom metal from Canada. Do I really need to say more to pique your interest?” So said I a little under five years ago, closing out my Things You Might Have Missed feature for Völur’s Death Cult. The Toronto-based project launched itself to the top of my end-of-year list in 2020, owing to their expert fusion of an impressive blend of sounds and genres primarily rooted in doom metal. Wielding the violin like a sledgehammer, Death Cult featured intelligent, clever compositions that really impressed me in 2020. Now, at last, they’re back for their fourth full-length, Breathless Spirit, with one key change: a collaboration with Cares—UK/Canadian producer James Beardmore—whose influence aims to transcend an already-impressive trio to Valhallan heights. However do they fare?

But first, a correction: in reviewing Death Cult, I noted that “the guitars do not dominate, nor do they crush the listener; instead, they unsettle, distort, and act as anchor for the vocals and electric violins that make up the true meat of the music.” Völur has no guitarist—only Lucas Gadke (Blood Ceremony), who plays bass (in addition to vocals and piano). The electric violins are indeed the “true meat of the music;” Völur create their uniquely haunting sound through intense distortion on Laura Bates’s violin and viola,1 giving them a surprisingly heavy metal basis to work with—certainly I’d never have thought there’s no guitar in the blackened doom mania that is “Windbourne Sorcery II,” and I’m still not 100% sure I believe it. Previously, I compared the group to a gloomy “Apocapyse Orchestra meets King Goat” project, but, in hindsight, Apocalyptica might have been a better base point to use.

Realistically, though, none of that matters because Völur is unique in too many ways to build adequate comparisons, and Cares has only strengthened that position. Where Death Cult emphasized the heavier, doom metal basis of Völur’s material, Breathless Spirit leans more classical, a change that highlights the incredible range of the music, passing also through doom metal, black metal, folk, jazz, and drone along the way—and all of it done with “just” a violinist, bassist, and drummer (Justin Ruppel). What’s extra interesting (on an already very interesting record) is that Cares contributes piano, synthesizers, theremin, and textures. His production adds layer upon layer of grimy, modern darkness that contributes heavily to the metal feel of Breathless Spirit. It is, put simply, extremely experimental. It also works magnificently.

From the classically-inspired2 “Hearth,” Breathless Spirit’s instrumental intro whose motifs just keep reappearing, to the towering doom metal conclusion of “Death in Solitude,” Völur are as engaging as they are unpredictable. I mentioned that “Windbourne Sorcery II” has the album’s blackened highlight, with Bates’s utterly unhinged shrieks atop a steady alarm of urgency from her violin. That same song has an almost funeral buildup, a chilling passage I compare favorably with Bell Witch’s Mirror Reaper3. The title track is the highlight for me; Gadke’s roars are front and center, and all of his vocals have depth and command to them, recalling Barren Earth’s On Lonely Towers.4 Guest vocals from Amy Bowles (ex-Hollow Earth) are a fantastic counter to his baritone cleans, and the brief improvizations a third of the way in is chaotic and delightful. You can dance to the haunting middle section, but it ends on a sense of heavy, epic urgency. Whatever style they try, Völur & Cares can’t help but create something beautiful. Much credit also belongs to Ruppel, whose measured drumming keeps Breathless Spirit grounded in a steady, doom-laden theme that serves it well.

I’ve run out of words, but there’s so much more to say. Breathless Spirit is a hard album to describe with any level of brevity. It explores worlds I’ve only hinted at here, and is much stronger than the sum of its parts. It’s not perfect—”On Drangey” is perhaps a touch too long for my preferences—but it hardly has to be. Breathless Spirit should enshrine Völur and Cares as experts in the experimental. Equal parts beautiful, haunting, and dark, Breathless Spirit defies my vocabulary—you simply must listen for yourself.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Blackthrone Productions
Websites: volur.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/VolurDoom
Releases Worldwide: August 8th, 2025

#apocalypseorchestra #apocalyptica #aug25 #barrenearth #bellwitch #blackthroneproductions

Australia News Beep @[email protected] · 2025-07-28 · 17:20 UTC

Jordfäst – Blodsdåd Och Hor Review

Sweden is a metal country in more ways than one. As I just learned from the promo blurb…
#NewsBeep #News #Music #2025 #3.0 #AU #Australia #Bathory #BlackLionRecords #BlackMetal #BlodsdådOchHor #Entertainment #FolkMetal #Havukruunu #Istapp #Jordfäst #Jul25 #review #reviews #SwedishMetal #VikingMetal
https://www.newsbeep.com/au/27947/

#vikingmetal #swedishmetal #reviews #review #jul25 #jordfast

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-07-28 · 11:07 UTC

#2025 #30 #Bathory #BlackLionRecords #BlackMetal #BlodsdådOchHor #FolkMetal #Havukruunu #Istapp #Jordfäst #Jul25 #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal #VikingMetal

By Killjoy

Sweden is a metal country in more ways than one. As I just learned from the promo blurb for Blodsdåd Och Hor, the iron and steel industry has been an integral component of its economy and culture for centuries. Of course, Sweden is not lacking in metal from a musical standpoint either. Jordfäst is the latest of these purveyors, whose brand of melancholic black metal seeks to honor their country’s long history of metalwork and warfare, mixed with a healthy dose of Norse mythology from the poem “Völuspá”. Blodsdåd Och Hor marks Jordfäst’s third full-length record since its formation in 2017. Time has proved Swedish metal to be extremely high quality, but what about Jordfäst’s?

The music may be melancholic, but Jordfäst gravitates towards the action-packed side of black metal rather than the atmospheric. Guitarist Elis Markskog prefers keen riffs and epic solos over icy tremolo picking and ambient synths, like a more sullen version of Havukruunu. There are more than a few nods to forebear Bathory’s Viking era in the form of pagan folk tunes and deep, resonant male singing (also by Markskog) to complement Olof Bengtsson’s sharp, staccato barks. Jocke Unger, now Jordfäst’s permanent drummer, buoys up the music even further with aggressive and bouncy rhythms. With a tight runtime of 35 minutes, Blodsdåd Och Hor is both lean and mean.

Blodsdåd Och Hor is quite literally a tale of two halves. Jordfäst does not break tradition with prior albums in that there are only two songs, each 17 minutes and sectioned into four separate tracks. The first half (“Ett altare av skärvor”) is steely and frigid, a harsh dissonant edge gleaming from the guitars. Jordfäst adeptly straddles the line between dissonance and melody, like in “Ett altare av skärvor, pt. 3” when clanging chords morph into a sinister, crooked tune. Blodsdåd Och Hor gradually warms up as it progresses through the second half (“Dit gudarna trälar är”), with more frequent Istapp-style clean singing and technical guitar solos to blast away the frost of the first half. “Dit gudarna trälar är, pt. 4” culminates with a hearty folk tune that hits like a blazing hearth fire after coming home from a cold mountain trip, a gratifying conclusion to the album. Even though, to my knowledge, no actual folk instruments are present, the Nordic roots are apparent in the robust musical compositions.

But, aside from these isolated noteworthy moments, Blodsdåd Och Hor tends to resist memorability as a whole for some reason. On paper, it has many qualities that I value in a record: dynamic songwriting, meaningful melodies, passionate ferocity, and a trim runtime. But maybe that’s part of why it’s not completely grabbing me—like a jack of all trades, Jordfäst is good at many things, but doesn’t feel quite exceptional in any. Or maybe (perhaps more likely) my taste is simply fickle. It might help if the volume were balanced more evenly between the principal harsh vocals and the clean backing vocals, as the former often feel too loud in the mix while the latter are often too faint. I’d also like to hear more Scandinavian folk influence seep into the guitars. It would likely go a long way to making Jordfäst stand out amongst their peers in this monochromatic genre we call black metal.

Jordfäst strikes a good balance between modernity and centuries of cultural heritage. Their melancholy approach to riffs ought to appeal to a wide variety of listeners; fans of second-wave black metal, dissoblack, and folk should find something here to enjoy. Though there aren’t too many standout moments that really resonate with me, Blodsdåd Och Hor is nevertheless very solid. I like Jordfäst’s practice of writing only two long-form songs per album, as it allows for ample development of ideas without blowing up the entire runtime. Make sure to pack winter gear if you choose to embark on this trek because it will be cold!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Lion Records
Websites: jordfst.bandcamp.com | jordfast.net | facebook.com/jordfastband
Releases Worldwide: July 25th, 2025

#bathory #blacklionrecords #blackmetal #blodsdadochhor #folkmetal #havukruunu

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-07-28 · 11:07 UTC

#2025 #30 #Bathory #BlackLionRecords #BlackMetal #BlodsdådOchHor #FolkMetal #Havukruunu #Istapp #Jordfäst #Jul25 #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal #VikingMetal

By Killjoy

Sweden is a metal country in more ways than one. As I just learned from the promo blurb for Blodsdåd Och Hor, the iron and steel industry has been an integral component of its economy and culture for centuries. Of course, Sweden is not lacking in metal from a musical standpoint either. Jordfäst is the latest of these purveyors, whose brand of melancholic black metal seeks to honor their country’s long history of metalwork and warfare, mixed with a healthy dose of Norse mythology from the poem “Völuspá”. Blodsdåd Och Hor marks Jordfäst’s third full-length record since its formation in 2017. Time has proved Swedish metal to be extremely high quality, but what about Jordfäst’s?

The music may be melancholic, but Jordfäst gravitates towards the action-packed side of black metal rather than the atmospheric. Guitarist Elis Markskog prefers keen riffs and epic solos over icy tremolo picking and ambient synths, like a more sullen version of Havukruunu. There are more than a few nods to forebear Bathory’s Viking era in the form of pagan folk tunes and deep, resonant male singing (also by Markskog) to complement Olof Bengtsson’s sharp, staccato barks. Jocke Unger, now Jordfäst’s permanent drummer, buoys up the music even further with aggressive and bouncy rhythms. With a tight runtime of 35 minutes, Blodsdåd Och Hor is both lean and mean.

Blodsdåd Och Hor is quite literally a tale of two halves. Jordfäst does not break tradition with prior albums in that there are only two songs, each 17 minutes and sectioned into four separate tracks. The first half (“Ett altare av skärvor”) is steely and frigid, a harsh dissonant edge gleaming from the guitars. Jordfäst adeptly straddles the line between dissonance and melody, like in “Ett altare av skärvor, pt. 3” when clanging chords morph into a sinister, crooked tune. Blodsdåd Och Hor gradually warms up as it progresses through the second half (“Dit gudarna trälar är”), with more frequent Istapp-style clean singing and technical guitar solos to blast away the frost of the first half. “Dit gudarna trälar är, pt. 4” culminates with a hearty folk tune that hits like a blazing hearth fire after coming home from a cold mountain trip, a gratifying conclusion to the album. Even though, to my knowledge, no actual folk instruments are present, the Nordic roots are apparent in the robust musical compositions.

But, aside from these isolated noteworthy moments, Blodsdåd Och Hor tends to resist memorability as a whole for some reason. On paper, it has many qualities that I value in a record: dynamic songwriting, meaningful melodies, passionate ferocity, and a trim runtime. But maybe that’s part of why it’s not completely grabbing me—like a jack of all trades, Jordfäst is good at many things, but doesn’t feel quite exceptional in any. Or maybe (perhaps more likely) my taste is simply fickle. It might help if the volume were balanced more evenly between the principal harsh vocals and the clean backing vocals, as the former often feel too loud in the mix while the latter are often too faint. I’d also like to hear more Scandinavian folk influence seep into the guitars. It would likely go a long way to making Jordfäst stand out amongst their peers in this monochromatic genre we call black metal.

Jordfäst strikes a good balance between modernity and centuries of cultural heritage. Their melancholy approach to riffs ought to appeal to a wide variety of listeners; fans of second-wave black metal, dissoblack, and folk should find something here to enjoy. Though there aren’t too many standout moments that really resonate with me, Blodsdåd Och Hor is nevertheless very solid. I like Jordfäst’s practice of writing only two long-form songs per album, as it allows for ample development of ideas without blowing up the entire runtime. Make sure to pack winter gear if you choose to embark on this trek because it will be cold!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Lion Records
Websites: jordfst.bandcamp.com | jordfast.net | facebook.com/jordfastband
Releases Worldwide: July 25th, 2025

#bathory #blacklionrecords #blackmetal #blodsdadochhor #folkmetal #havukruunu

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-07-28 · 11:07 UTC

#2025 #30 #Bathory #BlackLionRecords #BlackMetal #BlodsdådOchHor #FolkMetal #Havukruunu #Istapp #Jordfäst #Jul25 #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal #VikingMetal

By Killjoy

Sweden is a metal country in more ways than one. As I just learned from the promo blurb for Blodsdåd Och Hor, the iron and steel industry has been an integral component of its economy and culture for centuries. Of course, Sweden is not lacking in metal from a musical standpoint either. Jordfäst is the latest of these purveyors, whose brand of melancholic black metal seeks to honor their country’s long history of metalwork and warfare, mixed with a healthy dose of Norse mythology from the poem “Völuspá”. Blodsdåd Och Hor marks Jordfäst’s third full-length record since its formation in 2017. Time has proved Swedish metal to be extremely high quality, but what about Jordfäst’s?

The music may be melancholic, but Jordfäst gravitates towards the action-packed side of black metal rather than the atmospheric. Guitarist Elis Markskog prefers keen riffs and epic solos over icy tremolo picking and ambient synths, like a more sullen version of Havukruunu. There are more than a few nods to forebear Bathory’s Viking era in the form of pagan folk tunes and deep, resonant male singing (also by Markskog) to complement Olof Bengtsson’s sharp, staccato barks. Jocke Unger, now Jordfäst’s permanent drummer, buoys up the music even further with aggressive and bouncy rhythms. With a tight runtime of 35 minutes, Blodsdåd Och Hor is both lean and mean.

Blodsdåd Och Hor is quite literally a tale of two halves. Jordfäst does not break tradition with prior albums in that there are only two songs, each 17 minutes and sectioned into four separate tracks. The first half (“Ett altare av skärvor”) is steely and frigid, a harsh dissonant edge gleaming from the guitars. Jordfäst adeptly straddles the line between dissonance and melody, like in “Ett altare av skärvor, pt. 3” when clanging chords morph into a sinister, crooked tune. Blodsdåd Och Hor gradually warms up as it progresses through the second half (“Dit gudarna trälar är”), with more frequent Istapp-style clean singing and technical guitar solos to blast away the frost of the first half. “Dit gudarna trälar är, pt. 4” culminates with a hearty folk tune that hits like a blazing hearth fire after coming home from a cold mountain trip, a gratifying conclusion to the album. Even though, to my knowledge, no actual folk instruments are present, the Nordic roots are apparent in the robust musical compositions.

But, aside from these isolated noteworthy moments, Blodsdåd Och Hor tends to resist memorability as a whole for some reason. On paper, it has many qualities that I value in a record: dynamic songwriting, meaningful melodies, passionate ferocity, and a trim runtime. But maybe that’s part of why it’s not completely grabbing me—like a jack of all trades, Jordfäst is good at many things, but doesn’t feel quite exceptional in any. Or maybe (perhaps more likely) my taste is simply fickle. It might help if the volume were balanced more evenly between the principal harsh vocals and the clean backing vocals, as the former often feel too loud in the mix while the latter are often too faint. I’d also like to hear more Scandinavian folk influence seep into the guitars. It would likely go a long way to making Jordfäst stand out amongst their peers in this monochromatic genre we call black metal.

Jordfäst strikes a good balance between modernity and centuries of cultural heritage. Their melancholy approach to riffs ought to appeal to a wide variety of listeners; fans of second-wave black metal, dissoblack, and folk should find something here to enjoy. Though there aren’t too many standout moments that really resonate with me, Blodsdåd Och Hor is nevertheless very solid. I like Jordfäst’s practice of writing only two long-form songs per album, as it allows for ample development of ideas without blowing up the entire runtime. Make sure to pack winter gear if you choose to embark on this trek because it will be cold!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Lion Records
Websites: jordfst.bandcamp.com | jordfast.net | facebook.com/jordfastband
Releases Worldwide: July 25th, 2025

#bathory #blacklionrecords #blackmetal #blodsdadochhor #folkmetal #havukruunu

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-07-28 · 11:07 UTC

#2025 #30 #Bathory #BlackLionRecords #BlackMetal #BlodsdådOchHor #FolkMetal #Havukruunu #Istapp #Jordfäst #Jul25 #Review #Reviews #SwedishMetal #VikingMetal

By Killjoy

Sweden is a metal country in more ways than one. As I just learned from the promo blurb for Blodsdåd Och Hor, the iron and steel industry has been an integral component of its economy and culture for centuries. Of course, Sweden is not lacking in metal from a musical standpoint either. Jordfäst is the latest of these purveyors, whose brand of melancholic black metal seeks to honor their country’s long history of metalwork and warfare, mixed with a healthy dose of Norse mythology from the poem “Völuspá”. Blodsdåd Och Hor marks Jordfäst’s third full-length record since its formation in 2017. Time has proved Swedish metal to be extremely high quality, but what about Jordfäst’s?

The music may be melancholic, but Jordfäst gravitates towards the action-packed side of black metal rather than the atmospheric. Guitarist Elis Markskog prefers keen riffs and epic solos over icy tremolo picking and ambient synths, like a more sullen version of Havukruunu. There are more than a few nods to forebear Bathory’s Viking era in the form of pagan folk tunes and deep, resonant male singing (also by Markskog) to complement Olof Bengtsson’s sharp, staccato barks. Jocke Unger, now Jordfäst’s permanent drummer, buoys up the music even further with aggressive and bouncy rhythms. With a tight runtime of 35 minutes, Blodsdåd Och Hor is both lean and mean.

Blodsdåd Och Hor is quite literally a tale of two halves. Jordfäst does not break tradition with prior albums in that there are only two songs, each 17 minutes and sectioned into four separate tracks. The first half (“Ett altare av skärvor”) is steely and frigid, a harsh dissonant edge gleaming from the guitars. Jordfäst adeptly straddles the line between dissonance and melody, like in “Ett altare av skärvor, pt. 3” when clanging chords morph into a sinister, crooked tune. Blodsdåd Och Hor gradually warms up as it progresses through the second half (“Dit gudarna trälar är”), with more frequent Istapp-style clean singing and technical guitar solos to blast away the frost of the first half. “Dit gudarna trälar är, pt. 4” culminates with a hearty folk tune that hits like a blazing hearth fire after coming home from a cold mountain trip, a gratifying conclusion to the album. Even though, to my knowledge, no actual folk instruments are present, the Nordic roots are apparent in the robust musical compositions.

But, aside from these isolated noteworthy moments, Blodsdåd Och Hor tends to resist memorability as a whole for some reason. On paper, it has many qualities that I value in a record: dynamic songwriting, meaningful melodies, passionate ferocity, and a trim runtime. But maybe that’s part of why it’s not completely grabbing me—like a jack of all trades, Jordfäst is good at many things, but doesn’t feel quite exceptional in any. Or maybe (perhaps more likely) my taste is simply fickle. It might help if the volume were balanced more evenly between the principal harsh vocals and the clean backing vocals, as the former often feel too loud in the mix while the latter are often too faint. I’d also like to hear more Scandinavian folk influence seep into the guitars. It would likely go a long way to making Jordfäst stand out amongst their peers in this monochromatic genre we call black metal.

Jordfäst strikes a good balance between modernity and centuries of cultural heritage. Their melancholy approach to riffs ought to appeal to a wide variety of listeners; fans of second-wave black metal, dissoblack, and folk should find something here to enjoy. Though there aren’t too many standout moments that really resonate with me, Blodsdåd Och Hor is nevertheless very solid. I like Jordfäst’s practice of writing only two long-form songs per album, as it allows for ample development of ideas without blowing up the entire runtime. Make sure to pack winter gear if you choose to embark on this trek because it will be cold!

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Black Lion Records
Websites: jordfst.bandcamp.com | jordfast.net | facebook.com/jordfastband
Releases Worldwide: July 25th, 2025

#vikingmetal #swedishmetal #reviews #review #jul25 #jordfast

Angry Metal Guy @[email protected] · 2025-07-28 · 11:07 UTC