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#folkmetal — Public Fediverse posts

Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #folkmetal, aggregated by home.social.

  1. Fejd – Nifelheim Review By Andy-War-Hall

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

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

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

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

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

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

    #2026 #30 #AmonAmarth #Aug26 #BlackLodgeRecords #Fejd #FolkMetal #HeavyMetal #LedZeppelin #LostHorizon #Nifelheim #Pathos #Review #Reviews #Rimmerfors #Sgaile #SoundPollution #SwedishMetal #TheHu
  2. Dymna Lotva – Vyraj Review By Thus Spoke

    The power of storytelling is well-known to Belarusian post-black outcasts Dymna Lotva. Their previous album, The Land Under the Black Wings: Blood, progressed that series through tragic true and folkloric tales, its overt tragedy in this sense bringing the real devastation wracking their native and settled home countries.1 Vyraj sees Dymna Lotva continue to communicate with stories. Taking its name from the Slavic mythological realm to which both migrating birds and the souls of the dead travel, there’s an explicit parallel with the members’ own emigration as well as themes of personal journey, life, and death. But there’s always been more to Dymna Lotva’s music than their symbolically powerful concepts, and Vyraj makes no exception.

    Dymna Lotva already had somewhat of a winning formula in a uniquely executed blend of black, folk, and post-metal. They evolve anyway, bringing in and emphasising further an electronic side that ranges from shimmering, chimelike keys to soft symphonics. It’s never enough to overshadow the metallic and, at its best, amplifies the (melo)drama of the climaxes and adds more layers to the band’s nuanced and emotional sound. This new direction brings with it something of the anthemic, with songs reprising uplifting melodies, stepping into steady sways, and being narrated more often by a duet, if not a chorus of voices.2 Leading those voices is the force of nature Katsiaryna Mankevich, who once again absolutely kills it with her wrenching screams and solemn classical cleans. The music is more direct, due to all the above as well as a comparatively shorter runtime, with fewer tracks, each of which references the others through recurring motifs.

    Vyraj condenses and concentrates Dymna Lotva’s characteristic potency and poignancy, which this time are tinged a touch more with the blush of hope than the blackness of rage. The urgent, cascading melodies ring with a thrilling solidarity (“Zory,” “Viedźmieragina,” “Ustań Za Mianie”) and the mournful soaring solos with bittersweet sadness (“Niama Darohi,” “Return my Coffin Home”). The highlight here, and also the crowning jewel of the album, is the centrepiece “Niama Darohi,” which practically hums with longing for freedom. It’s in these places that the new electronic elements work the most magic, spinning glittering counter-melodies or supporting the climax with subtle strings and fluttering keys. The atmosphere they bring is deepened by the way Dymna Lotva use the dynamics of rhythm and intensity to deepen their compositions and make them still more compelling. Variously whispered, spoken, rasped, screamed lines circulate spells amidst shifting tempos (“Veha,” “Viedźmieragina,” “Niama Darohi”); sung and screamed male and female voices call and respond and join together (“The Boat of Despair,” “Ustań Za Mianie,” “Return my Coffin Home”); and both the graceful lull of cleans and the vicious snarls of harsh vocals move in synchronisation with those of the lead guitars. This also serves to bring the fierceness into sharper focus, through emphasis and contrast alone, or the dramatic turn from this graceful tension into a building explosion of passion and electricity (“Zory,” “Veha,” “Viedźmieragina”).

    All of Vyraj has a somewhat magical aura, thanks to the use of (children’s) group vocals and xylophone-esque chimes and ambience amidst the savage or sombre. At its most vibrant, it sings with so much feeling that I long desperately for a lyric sheet and the ability to speak the language(s) these songs are written in.3 The brightness of these highs also obscures the comparative dimness of the lows, where that fire seems to be missing, and mellowness and ambience win out (“The Boat of Despair,” “Bu Samoje”). This is some feat considering the fact that the overall production seems tailored to the increased electronic emphasis, which presses the beautiful layers together, and so the very aspects that lend Vyraj some new magic also weaken that magic’s power. Just a bit more space would do wonders.

    But Dymna Lotva are not ones to fade into the background. They care about their stories and delivering them in a way that forces you to listen. Despite any unevenness, Vyraj has an intangible specialness to it that irresistibly pulls the listener back. This is a lovely, sad, empowering piece of art that deserves more than the length of its runtime to weave its world around you.

    Rating: Very Good
    DR: 4 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
    Label: Prophecy Productions
    Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
    Releases Worldwide: August 7th, 2026

    #2026 #35 #Aug26 #BelarusianMetal #BlackMetal #DymnaLotva #FolkMetal #PostBlackMetal #PostMetal #ProphecyProductions #Review #Reviews #Vyraj
  3. Finsterforst – Still Review By Grin Reaper

    Home to cuckoo clocks, namesake gateaux,1 and Bollenhüte, Germany’s Schwarzwald (Black Forest) has functioned as folklore fodder for centuries. Ever since dropping debut EP Wiege der Finsternis, Finsterforst has mined their homeland for inspiration, and after five albums they’re Still at it. Though only three years removed from 2023’s EP Jenseits, Still is Finsterforst’s first proper album in seven years.2 If this is your Finsterfirst time experiencing the band’s wares, Finsterforst revels in long-form folk compositions that conjure the stateliness and beauty of nature, and on Still these Germaniacs deliver another generous portion of real-deal, certified folk magic. After so much time walking through the woods, does Still forge a better path, or has Finsterforst lost their way?

    Fans of Finsterforst’s recent work should be pleased with Still, as the distinctly Deutsch niche they’ve carved out persists with a twist of noble melancholy. To mein ears, Still plays like folk/black metal garnished with Neue Deutsche Härte accents as they merge seismic riffs and sustained synths with atmospheric textures, cinematic orchestrations, and a staggering tonal depth. Early Finsterforst leaned heavily into folksy fun, where jaunty accordion leads and spirited bass punches draw comparisons to Korpiklaani and Turisas. As Finsterforst evolved, song lengths ballooned, and they pushed further into realms of mood and emotional swells. While vestiges of their early sound remain, Finsterforst now hews much closer to the likes of Moonsorrow, although instead of basking in the wintry waters of Scandinavian paganism, this German septet reveres the temperate charms of an enchanted wood.

    From its outset, Still conjures the ethereal beauty of nature and merges it with crushing might and overwhelming pathos. Opener “Obduktion” kicks off with an airy lead before dropping the hammer with meticulously crafted riffs and synth accents that remind me of Rammstein and Eisbrecher. Yet Still doesn’t dramatically shift Finsterforst’s songwriting towards Neue Deutsche Härte—this facet has been a part of their sound for years. Rather, Finsterforst adopts a less-is-moar philosophy that makes the parallels stand out more starkly. For instance, “Stille Nacht” begins with a riff that recalls Rammstein’s “Mein Teil,” driving momentum with thick ‘n’ beefy muscle. Both “Knie Nieder” and “Herbstwanderung” expertly blend the heavy with the tender, and “Fels” glistens with acoustic guitar underpinning vocalist Olli Berlin’s mesmerizing vocals. And it’s here that Finsterforst unfetters their most potent weapon. Berlin’s vocals give me goosebumps each playthrough, and his impassioned barks and sonorous cleans proffer varied deliveries throughout Still. Yet more than that, they supply the perfect counterpoint to Finsterforst’s soundscape as the outfit maneuvers between impassioned discharges and reverb-saturated refrains supported by gorgeous choral elements and brassy orchestrations. Still captures Finsterforst at their most subtle and stripped down, where laying their arrangements bare exposes naked splendor.

    Despite the extreme runtime of Still, Finsterforst retools their approach to make it more accessible. In his review of Mach Dich Frei, El Cuervo identified the record’s length as cumbersome taken all at once, even if the individual tracks succeeded. On Still, the songs boast more palatable lengths than LPs past, and here only final original track, “Leere” overstays its welcome at twenty-four minutes.3 The two covers at the end, Immortal’s “Beyond the North Waves” and Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. II” commendably adapt versions of the songs to Finsterforst’s own style, yet push the runtime an extra fourteen minutes that otherwise would have delivered the band’s most succinct album to date. More positively, the production has improved since Mach Dich Frei and Zerfall, and even though the DR score only suggests a modest improvement, Still sounds better than any of the band’s other recent output.

    In a month with few highlights, Finsterforst’s Still shines as a welcome bright spot. Dynamic songwriting, masterful command of tension, and inspired performances litter the album. Finsterforst addresses past offenses by adding depth to the mix and demonstrating more economical songwriting song-by-song, even though Still’s overall length perpetuates Finsterforst’s reputation for bloat. Regardless, I often find myself lost in Still’s woods without caring about how long the walk is, as the sights along the way are unequivocally worth the stroll.

    Rating: Very Good
    DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
    Label: AOP Records
    Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
    Releases Worldwide: July 31st, 2026

    #2026 #35 #AOPRecords #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackFolkMetal #BlackMetal #Eisbrecher #Finsterforst #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #Immortal #Jul26 #Korpiklaani #Moonsorrow #PinkFloyd #Rammstein #Review #Reviews #Still #Turisas
  4. Stuck in the Filter: April 2026’s Angry Misses By Kenstrosity

    The storms persist, but now it’s getting hot! Steam roils inside the filter ducts as my minions scald themselves in the pursuit of moderately valuable nuggets. Will they succeed before they cook like so many broccoli florets? Only time will tell.

    Dead or alive, I’ll make sure these lazy louts deliver their semi-precious lodes. So be thankful, and BEHOLD!

    Kenstrosity’s Mountainous Member

    Volcandra // Beyond the Will of Mortals [April 24th, 2026 – Prosthetic Records]

    Who knows why we don’t get promo sometimes? Countless times I’ve been faced with great anticipation for a new record by a band I was keeping tabs on, and countless times, for unknown reasons, promo never came. Louisville melodic black/death quartet Volcandra now enter those ranks with the unsent Beyond the Will of Mortals. Picking up where The Will of Ancients left off, Beyond the Will of Mortals expands in scope and scale, eliciting a grandeur in composition that recalls the epic yarns spun by Foretoken, Hath, and Astralborne, but with the thrashing sensibilities of Antiverse and Skeletonwitch. Leading the charge in stunning fashion, “Beyond the Will of Mortals” and “Marauders of the Cosmic Vortex” explode with a visceral burst of energy built around high-octane riffs, screaming solos, and majestic melodies. Dave Palenske in particular acquits himself admirably, expanding his vocal range far beyond the expected, foraying into scorching screams and subterranean gutturals with excellent technique and charisma (“Venom March Enchantress”). But the rest of the band easily keeps up, deftly trading blows between power metal-ready gallops, violent swings into thrash territory, and all manner of other pyrotechnics to make Beyond the Will of Mortals Volcandra’s most versatile and varied offering yet. To some, this may create a disjointed experience as rippers like “Mage of Fabled Sorcery” contrast in pacing and personality to its neighbors. However, with repeat listens that effects dissolves, making more room to appreciate how much fun this record really is. The back half capitalizes on that effect, unleashing lean and mean banger after banger to leave you salivating for another round (“Within the Webs,” “Infinite Decadence”). In sum, Beyond the Will of Mortals is a fine, invigorating inclusion into anyone’s rotation; so if you missed it, get on it now!

    Creeping Ivy’s Punkyard Dogs

    Dead Bob // Nothing Changes Everything [April 21st, 2026 – Wrong Records]

    In The Collector’s Guide to Heavy Metal, Martin Popoff describes Wrong (1989) by Nomeansno as ‘the mightiest merger between the hateful aggression of punk and the discipline of heavy metal’ (316). Essentially, Popoff affixed to Wrong AMG’s Iconic label: 10/10.1 For readers perhaps unfamiliar with Nomeansno, my best follow-up on Popoff’s portrayal is that the bandformed in 1979 by the Wright brothers (Rob on bass/vocals, John on drums/vocals)—sounds like The Minutemen hijacked a Voivod. After an incredible eleven-album run, Nomeansno officially retired in 2016. Why am I wasting my word count with this history lesson on the greatest Canadian punk band of all time? Because Dead Bob, John Wright’s solo project, released its sophomore album this April. Whereas Life Like fulfills the vision of one man, John enlisted a band for Nothing Changes Everything. Bookending the album are the last two songs John co-wrote with Rob. The techy guitar/bass interplay of lead-off “Centre of the Universe,” as well as the pounding rhythms of closer “No Fun (Alt Mix),” come closest to the punk/metal hybridity of vintage Nomeansno. Between these tracks, the album gets increasingly weird (which is to say, it gets increasingly ‘punk,’ in the word’s original connotation). “Nothing Changes Everything” deploys horns, “Hard is Hard” mixes art/surf rock, and “The Present” sprinkles psychedelic guitar leads over pulsing synths and tribal percussion. If you’re a fan of avant-garde music in a compact package, you can’t go wrong with Nothing Changes Everything.

    Poison Ruïn // Hymns from the Hills [April 3rd, 2026 – Relapse Records]

    Whilst reading Tyme‘s (excellent) review of Twin Serpent’s (super fun) True Norwegian Blackgrass, a member of the commentariat reminded me of how much I enjoyed Poison Ruïn’s latest offering upon a first listen. That comment got me to revisit Hymn from the Hills, and I’m glad I did. To sell these Philly post-punks to the AMG Faithful, I’ll point out a few things: they’re signed to Relapse Records, they curate a medieval aesthetic (which includes deploying dungeon synths), and the new record was mastered by Arthur Rizk. In addition to liberal metal elements, Poison Ruïn occasionally stride with rock n’ roll swagger (“Hymn from the Hills”), with primary visionary Mac Kennedy channeling Blue Öyster Cult in his role as singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter (“Lily of the Valley”). “Eidolon” perfectly exemplifies the band’s hybridity, mashing up the melody of “Layla,” the propulsive drive of Hüsker Dü, and the rhythmic punctuations of “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” This may sound like a critique, but it’s not; Poison Ruïn excels at mixing punk, rock, and metal into their own arthouse concoction. Metal purists might have to wait until the end of the album, though, to have their fancy truly tickled. But wait, they should, as “Sleeping Giant (Interlude)” offers funeral doom content in a punk-sized package, while closer “The Standoff” gets moving with a wicked blast beat. I’ll definitely be heading for these post-punk hills more and more throughout the year.

    Scimitar // Scimitarium II [April 24th, 2026 – Crypt of the Wizard]

    Scimitar’s first song receptacle was one of my favorite debuts of 2025. On Scimitarium I, this Danish five-piece served up a scintillating selection of ‘black occult rock,’ combining the caustic fervor of Malokarpatan with the psychedelic haze of Blue Cheer, topped off with a post-punk flavoring of Joy Division. A year later, this Copenhagen cutter returns with Scimitarium II, a follow-up that satisfyingly mirrors the album-art format of its predecessor. Whereas Scimitarium I demonstrated range marred a bit by roughshod production, volume II sounds much sharper, slashing and dashing for a lean 40 minutes. The opening title track introduces our combatants: the dexterous drumming of CCsquele; the counter-melodic bass of Olle Bergholz; the sinister guitar fury of Johan L. Ekstrand and Anders M. Jørgensen; and finally, the commanding vocals of Shaam A.2 From there, the album rips through a trio of unrelenting ragers that feel like they can fall apart at any minute but miraculously hold together. “Through Lava Lit Roads to Lavilenda, Pt. II” offers the only reprieve, spotlighting Shaam’s dynamic range and impressive timbre. Closing out the collection is “Mobula Mobular,” a 13-minute monster built around a doomy riff whose chromaticism lurches upward and downward, to hypnotizing effect. If Scimitar can marry the ambition of I with the ferocity of II next time around, they’ll have a blackened-trad killer on their hands.

    Andy-War-Hall’s Dandy Score Haul

    Elegant Weapons // Evolution [April 24th, 2026 – Exciter Records]

    Everything about Elegant Weapons and the super group’s sophomore record Evolution is a misnomer. Evolution is a high-octane slugfest of tried-and-true heavy metal-leaning hard rock, and Elegant Weapons swing, punch, and bite through it with everything but grace. Is this a problem? When Richie Faulkener’s (Judas Priest) riffs are as groovy and burly as ever and his solos as grin-inducing, Ronnie Romero’s (ex-Rainbow, ex-Michael Schenker Group) voice is booming as it is, and when Dave Rimmer (Uriah Heep) and Christopher Williams’ (Accept) bass and drums respectively, carry as tight a pulse as they do on Evolution, not at all. When it all coalesces into uber catchy fist-pumping anthems like “Bridges Burn,” “The Devil Calls,” and “Shooting Shadows,” especially so. Evolution is easy-peasy listening, and Elegant Weapons’ chemistry and knack for hookcraft make its near hour-long runtime fly by, as well as ease the cringe of the hyper-Boomeristic lyricism on “Generation Me.” They also manage to make fairly stock power ballads in “Come Back to Me” and “Keeper of the Keys” feel affecting, driven by a viral vocal presence and emotive, timeless guitar soloing. Evolution is fun, and Elegant Weapons are sharp. ‘Nuff said.

    Demon Spell // Blessed Be the Dark [April 24th, 2026 – Dying Victims Productions]

    Creeping from an obscure, ancient, and sinister darkness, Sicily’s Demon Spell have conjured a shadow-cast era of heavy metal’s history back to the light of day with their debut Blessed Be the Dark. Wielding the evil auras of Mercyful Fate and Witchfinder General, Demon Spell play an early-80s melange of early thrash, occult rock, and NWoBHM riffcraft and swagger. Blessed Be the Dark is driven by excellent performances. Vocalist Federico Fano’s falsetto wails evoke King Diamond at his best on “As Lucifer Smiles” while drummer Dario Casabona drops slick, pummeling fills over “Curse of the Undead.” Sinister melodies and atmospheres abound on Blessed Be the Dark, with “The Tolling” and “Hexes and Horrors” driving home a vintage horror aesthetic while tearing it up with blistering heavy metal. Blessed Be the Dark also just sounds pleasantly old. Demon Spell’s guitars and bass sound pulled straight from 1981, complementing their retro songcraft perfectly. Blessed Be the Dark sounds like the night come alive, a fast, fun, and delightfully dark exploration of the kinds of heavy metal that gave your grandma panic attacks back in the day. Fall under the Demon Spell today!

    Grin Reaper’s Grim Goodies

    Nervosa // Slave Machine [April 3rd, 2026 – Napalm Records]

    For a band releasing their sixth album in twelve years, Nervosa sounds remarkably vital. Staying the course with a dozen tracks of their signature death/thrash, Slave Machine burns through forty-three minutes of whammy dives, soaring leads, and all-around thrashy goodness. Writing tunes that pay homage to Sepultura (“You Are Not a Hero”), Kreator (“Ghost Notes”), and Sodom (“The Call”), Nervosa bludgeons with blunt-force drama while touting slick riffs and venomous melodies. Slave Machine opens with “Impending Doom,” a stirring salvo that Arch Enemy wishes they’d written, and from there Nervosa hints at the familiar without ever straying from their own lane. “Hate” starts with a riff that simultaneously reminds of Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” and System of a Down’s “B.Y.O.B.” before spiraling into vaguely In Flames-tinged melodeath. Meanwhile, “Crawling for Your Pride” and “Beast of Burden” draw from the viciousness of mid-aughts Soulfly. Over and over, Nervosa pulls from known sources, yet bakes enough novelty into their songwriting to sound fresh and pummeling. Those intimate with Nervosa won’t find many surprises here, but are in for a treat. If this is your first encounter with these Brazilian badasses, gird your ears and strap in—welcome to the Slave Machine.

    Kõdu // Kirjad Sõgedate Külast [April 20th, 2026 – Antiq Records]

    Five years after delivering debut Unusta Kõik, Estonian outfit Kõdu graces us with their sophomore album. Translated as ‘Letters from the Village of the Blind,’3 Kirjad Sõgedate Külast details the sordid ruination of a backwoods village, relating its narrative aspects through a series of letters where each song chronicles a different villager’s perspective.4 Kõdu grounds the lyrics in their native language, drawing from nineteenth and twentieth-century Estonian poets for inspiration. Despite the depth of the macabre backdrop, I never would have taken the time to learn more if Kõdu’s music hadn’t entranced me from the outset. Slow-burn black metal abounds on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast, recalling Dødheimsgard’s shifting moods (“II”) and eclectic instrumentation (“III”) muddled with Wayfarer’s rustic arrangements (“VI”) and Emperor’s dramatic flair (“V”). Musically, Kirjad Sõgedate Külast conjures lush soundscapes (“VII”) through considered songwriting, expertly balancing black metal discharges with melancholic passages that give moments just the right amount of time to bludgeon or breathe before pivoting. I regret not getting the chance to review Kõdu’s latest in full, because the folk magic they weave on Kirjad Sõgedate Külast deserves fanfare and kudõs aplenty.

    ClarkKent’s Epic Elegy

    Bloody Valkyria // Requiem – Reveries Of The Dying [April 3rd, 2026 – Northern Silence Productions]

    Bloody Valkyria, the product of Finland’s Jere Kervinen, peddles in the same sort of epic symphonic/folk black metal that the likes of Ancient Mastery, Stormkeep, and Moonlight Sorcery dish out. Kervinen’s emotionally charged project appears inspired by a personal loss, and you can feel his passion in the emotional outpouring of his music and lyrics. On the epic opener, “Symphony of Silence,” Bloody Valkyria reveal their capability with the patient slow burn. There’s the natural, serene ambience of animal sounds, strings, folky flutes, and then a sudden explosion of riffs and blast beats. And boy does Kervinen write some extraordinary leads, which makes his slow-burn approach all the more rewarding. Each song contains a well-earned hooky riff/trem that holds its sway over you even as the song grows into more thoughtful serenity. Reading along with Kervinen’s poetic, touching lyrics makes the experience all the more poignant as he ruminates on death and the meaning of life. The grief by the end, as he sings about his “beloved north” and a desire for its/her embrace, is palpable. This is a beautiful record that may be too good for these dirty filters, but I just couldn’t risk it getting lost in the shuffle of the chaos that is the end of year.

    #Accept #AmericanMetal #AncientMastery #AntiqRecords #Antiverse #ArchEnemy #Astralborne #AvantGarde #BeyondTheWillOfMortals #BlackMetal #BlessedBeTheDark #BloodyValkyria #BlueCheer #BlueOysterCult #BrazilianMetal #CanadianMetal #CryptOfTheWizard #DanishMetal #DeadBob #DeathMetal #DeathThrash #DemonSpell #Dödheimsgard #DungeonSynth #DyingVictimsProductions #ElegantWeapons #EtonianMetal #Evolution #ExciterRecords #FinnishMetal #FolkBlackMetal #FolkMetal #Foretoken #HardRock #Hath #HeavyMetal #HuskerDu #HymnsFromTheHills #InFlames #InternationalMetal #IronMaiden #ItalianMetal #JoyDivision #JudasPriest #KingDiamond #KirjadSõgedateKülast #Kõdu #Kreator #Malokarpatan #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #MercyfulFate #MichaelSchenkerGroup #MoonlightSorcery #Nervosa #Nomeansnso #NorthernSilenceProductions #NothingChangesEverything #OccultRock #PoisonRuin #postPunk #ProstheticRecords #Punk #Rainbow #RelapseRecords #RequiemReveriesOfTheDying #Rock #Scimitar #ScimitariumII #Sepultura #Skeletonwitch #SlaveMachine #Sodom #Soulfly #Stormkeep #SymphonicBlackMetal #SymphonicMetal #SystemOfADown #TheMinutement #ThrashMetal #TwinSerpent #UriahHeep #Voivod #Volcandra #Wayfarer #WitchfinderGeneral #WrongRecords
  5. Albion – It Was In The Month of May I Review By Mystikus Hugebeard

    Sorry, but I can’t resist: It was in the month of May that I sat down to review the newest album by the British folk-rockers Albion, titled It Was In The Month of May I.1 This gaggle of self-declared whippersnappers blew this reviewer away with their 2024 album Lakesongs of Elbid. What started as an unassuming filter piece grew on me more and more to the point it made my (and my co-conspirator Killjoy’s) end-of-year list. Albion’s timeless, joyful folk-rock music has enjoyed constant rotations in the Hugebeard tower since then, and so a new album has been a hotly anticipated affair. Now that it’s in our hands, has Albion continued their trend for quality?

    For those unfamiliar with Albion, they play a flute-heavy, wistful sort of progressive folk-rock that draws an obvious comparison to Jethro Tull and reminds me a great deal of Big Big Train. For those a little more familiar, it’s worth mentioning that It Was In The Month of May has somewhat toned down the already limited metal crunch that graced Lakesongs of Elbid. Rest assured, this is no criticism, as this album remains energetic and adventurous in all the right ways. The opening prelude, “Mis Mai,” followed by the first true foray into the album’s essence, “The Green Knight,” demonstrate Albion’s sonic strengths right out of the gates. “Mis Mai” highlights the dulcet pipes of Joe Parrish-James as he lathers the song’s Welsh lyrics in decadent velvet, while “The Green Knight” starts the album in usual Albion fashion with grandiose flute melodies explored atop galloping guitar strumming.

    What I love about Albion’s music, and what they maintain in It Was In The Month of May, is a sense of effortlessness. The music is fun, it’s accessible, it’s breezy, it’s comfortably warm and full of well-crafted little moments so crisp and yet so obvious it almost makes you wonder how no one else thought of it first. The pub-rock verse of “Down With The Hero” and the epic call-and-response between the flutes and guitars in the middle of “Calan Mai” come especially to mind. In the album’s longer songs, Albion are quite eager to just let the music run free through the meadow in spacious explorations of riffs and solos, but it never feels aimless. The melodies of “The Green Knight” and “Eldest” in particular see the guitars and flutes bounce merrily along in an endless up-and-down like the rolling hills stretching before you as you prepare for adventure. The closer, “Calan Mai,” is the longest at ten minutes, but even at its most unrestrained, the song’s melodies wield graceful finality in a way that always feels satisfying.

    It Was In The Month of May is almost 20 minutes shorter than its predecessor, Lakesongs, which makes for an overall cleaner listening experience. However, the album’s pacing does waver a little by over-saturating the latter half with lower-energy tunes. I really quite love “Hymn to Elbereth,” as it has this gently twisting nature to it that happily makes me think of Glass Hammer, but it’s misplaced between the otherwise pleasantly acoustic “She Is The River” and the ballad “Cherry Hill,” making for an overly languid sequence of songs. “Cherry Hill” in particular leans a bit too heavily on chorus repetition for its six-minute runtime. Still, the album ends on the right note with “Calan Mai,” and there are no other noteworthy structural issues or damaging patterns affecting the album. However, I simply must mention the “la-da-da’s” and “doo-do-do’s” in the chorus of “Down With The Hero.” I don’t mind vocalizations at all and they work perfectly well as little interstitial passages like in “Eldest,” but I find it to be a heavily misguided choice for them to carry the chorus of the album’s most upbeat song.

    It Was In The Month of May is warm, adventurous, inviting, and once again, and I simply cannot stress this enough, extraordinarily British. While this album never gripped me quite like Lakesongs of Elbid did, the final word on this review is nevertheless one of eager positivity. Albion is a band I tend to think of no matter the musical flavor I’m looking for, and It Was In The Month of May only furthers that trend. This is music that is just so pleasant to listen to, no matter the day, and there are some damn good bangers to be found here for any fan of folk, British rock, or prog.

    Rating: Good!
    DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: FLAC
    Label: Self-Release
    Websites: official | facebook | bandcamp
    Releases Worldwide: May 26th, 2026

    Killjoy

    In the year 2021, I unexpectedly became acquainted with the debut EP of a very special folk rock group from England. The potential that Albion showed on Pryderi was immediately obvious, and I longed for more. My wish was granted in 2024 by the whopping 70-minute full-length debut Lakesongs of Elbid, for which my esteemed colleague (and now review partner), Mystikus Hugebeard, wrote a splendid filter piece. Albion has wasted no time since then, here to regale our ears again with cheery tunes. It Was in the Month of May seeks to honor the magical time of year when spring sunsets and will soon cede to warmer temperatures.

    Albion’s music is wholesome for the soul, whispering to the part of human consciousness that yearns for carefree meadows and being in nature. They primarily achieve this through the exquisite pairing of flute and guitars (both acoustic and electric). This, of course, invites comparisons to Jethro Tull,2 although Albion perhaps hews a bit closer to folk music. Take, for example, the beautiful acoustic guitar fingerpicking and Welsh singing3 in “Mis Mai.” Further, Albion plays a more modernized style of rock than Jethro Tull. “Down with the Hero” is a rousing, ultra-catchy pub rock number and the guitarwork in “The Green Knight” is elaborate, sounding like a slightly slower and proggier Dark Forest. The way that Albion harmoniously blends the old with the new is genuinely refreshing.

    It Was in the Month of May similarly succeeds in striking a balance between humble and epic. In both the quiet and upbeat moments, there is an air of unassuming regality. Therefore, it makes perfect sense that Albion composed a pair of songs about Tolkien’s characters Tom Bombadil and his wife, Goldberry. “Eldest (Tom Bombadil)” contains gorgeous guitar and flute swells evoking endless verdant hillsides, as well as a Celtic folk-influenced jig reminiscent of Tuatha de Danann or Braia. “She Is the River (Goldberry)” is entirely acoustic and percussion-less (save for hand claps), with sunny guitar strumming and pleasantly poetic lyrics. Continuing with Tolkien subject matters, “Hymn to Elbereth” features vocal harmonization by Joe and Rhiannon Parrish-James which is as fair as the elves who Frodo, Sam, and Pippin overheard singing these very words in The Fellowship of the Ring. Rhiannon adds her voice to Joe’s at various other times throughout the record, and I would love to hear her take center stage in the future.

    Overall, It Was in the Month of May is sharper and more focused than its predecessor. As much as I loved Lakesongs of Elbid, opening with a 9-and-a-half minute instrumental track didn’t help it find its footing. “The Green Knight,” the first full song here, isn’t much shorter but its structure is more disciplined, never wavering from its gallant, galloping theme. The other 8+ minute songs, “Eldest (Tom Bombadil)” and “Calan Mai,” also mostly justify their lengths, although the latter feels a bit meandering towards the end. But the larger issue with “Calan Mai” has to do with the track that precedes it. “Cherry Hill (Maya II)” hits like a lullaby, which might have been okay if it were 3 minutes instead of 6, so it ends up stifling the momentum leading into the ornate concluding track. I do appreciate that, with a total runtime of 52 minutes, It Was in the Month of May is easier to listen to in one sitting.

    It Was in the Month of May is great for drifting away and forgetting one’s troubles for a while. The uplifting compositions are easy on the ears while offering bountiful details to uncover during return visits. “Cherry Hill (Maya II)” is the main thing holding it back from unqualified greatness. That said, if Albion continues refining their songcraft at this pace, the next album will surely shatter our score safety counter. So, kick back and enjoy time outside with loved ones. It Was in the Month of May is an excellent way to ring in summer in the Northern Hemisphere.

    Rating: 3.5/5.0

    #2026 #30 #35 #Albion #BigBigTrain #Braia #BritishMetal #DarkForest #FolkMetal #FolkRock #GlassHammer #ItWasInTheMonthOfMayI #JethroTull #LakesongsOfElbid #May26 #ProgressiveRock #Pryderi #Review #Reviews #TuathaDeDanann
  6. Atavistia – Old Gods Awaken Review By Grin Reaper

    Melodic death metal had a banner year in 2025, brandishing outstanding releases from Aephanemer, Vittra, Buried Realm, Aversed, and others. Given that many of melodeth’s top tier releases came out in the back half of last year, there’s no cause for alarm yet, but with the exception of At the Gates’ opus The Ghost of a Future Dead, I can’t help feeling 2026 is off to a slow start.1 Throwing down the gauntlet with Old Gods Awaken, Vancouver collective Atavistia stakes their claim on this year’s melodeath throne. In his review of Cosmic Warfare, Doom_et_al noted that Atavistia made meaningful strides in songwriting since The Winter Way, but that plenty of room exists to further define an identity outside of Wintersun’s shadow. With the spotlight shining on folk metal influences throughout Old Gods Awaken, can Atavistia maintain their velocity after Cosmic Warfare, or would it have been better to let sleeping gods lie?

    For anyone who’s read about Atavistia at AMG before, you know there’s one band whose temple even these Old Gods pray at.2 If you expected that to change, shame on you. With their most flagrant foray into folk metal to date, Atavistia doubles down on Wintersun worship with Old Gods Awaken while succumbing to a feverish case of Ensiferumania. On the surface, this may sound like Atavistia regressing back towards The Winter Way, but instead the band continues to refine the overwrought compositions that Doomy dinged in that review and delivers a succinct forty-three minutes of symphonic melodeath. And though Wintersun and Ensiferum cast the longest shadows, shades of Children of Bodom and Kalmah broaden Old Gods Awaken’s footprint and enrich its well of influences.

    Despite Atavistia’s new musical folk-us and turning over half the band since Cosmic Warfare, they submit well-conceived orchestrations and tight performances throughout Old Gods Awaken. Specifically, Atavistia bade farewell to guitarist Dalton Meaden and bassist D’wayne Murray in 2024, welcoming Elia Baghbaniyan and Spencer Budworth in their stead. The quality of instrumentation remains consistent with previous albums, where guitars and synths steal the show as they trade earwormy melodic lines (“Mystic Tavern,” “I Skogens Djup”) that lead into heartfelt solos (“Goddess of My Dreams,” “Ride the White Storm”) and stirring, rustic breaks (“To a New World”). The haunting choirs on Cosmic Warfare have also been replaced by viking gang chants, which makes sense stylistically, but loses some of the flair that helped the former stand out. Longtime drummer Max Sepulveda lays down a commendable performance as well, spicing songs up with well-crafted fills that never overpower Old Gods Awaken’s dense compositions. Besides contributing guitar and supplying his best vocal performance to date, Atavistia ringleader Matt Sippola weaves together a rousing album that stands beside its inspirations.

    While Atavistia successfully plunges headlong into folk, the move erodes some of the identity they established previously. Tracks on Cosmic Warfare recalled Wintersun, but just as much reminded me of Brymir and the choral arrangements in The Phantom Menace. Old Gods Awaken forsakes these subtle nods, and though that isn’t bad on its own, the Ensiferum influence is a safer path that deteriorates some of Atavistia’s idiosyncrasies. Additionally, some of the melodies and song structures on Old Gods Awaken blur together. “Mystic Tavern,” “Seeker of Time,” and “Goddess of My Dreams”3 all have similar-sounding leads, and the first two also have somewhat predictable compositions that stand out since the songs are back-to-back, particularly in terms of pacing and the timing of more subdued moments. Ultimately, these are minor complaints on very well-executed material, but diversifying the song structures could unveil even greater heights.

    Old Gods Awaken subverts my expectations of what I thought a new Atavistia record would sound like, and even though they lean into a well-defined arena, they do so capably. Monster hooks and intricate, engaging arrangements keep the replay value of Old Gods Awaken tantalizingly high, especially with tight songwriting across the album. I’m curious where Atavistia goes next, as there’s no clear indication of what direction they’ll take. Whatever it is, the persistent urge to evolve their songcraft proves Atavistia will make it interesting and fun, and that every once in a while, you can teach Old Gods new tricks.

    Rating: Very Good
    DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
    Label: Self-Release
    Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook
    Releases Worldwide: May 15th, 2026

    #2026 #35 #Aephanemer #AtTheGates #Atavistia #Aversed #BlackMetal #BuriedRealm #CanadianMetal #ChildrenOfBodom #Ensiferum #FolkMetal #Kalmah #May26 #MelodicDeathMetal #OldGodsAwaken #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #SelfReleased #SelfReleases #VikingMetal #Vittra #Wintersun
  7. Vansind – Hævnen Review By ClarkKent

    If these Danes had their way, the entrance to Valhalla would greet the deceased with the sounds of bagpipes, tin whistles, violins, and, of course, your standard heavy metal instruments. Vansind has been marrying Viking metal with folk instruments since 2019. While it took them four years to release their debut, Mørket, they released singles and an EP in trickles while showing off their stuff live. Now, 2026 sees them return with a vengeance on Hævnen. I mean that semantically rather than literally—hævnen is the Danish word for revenge, and Vansind seeks to explore “themes of revenge, betrayal, freedom, and sacrifice.”1 So put on your best Viking garb and pour yourself a heaping cup of mead as we check out what these Danes have to offer.

    Take the melodic death metal of Amon Amarth and mix it with the energetic folk of Finntroll, and you’ve got a good base for Vansind. Despite the darker subject matter at hand, Hævnen is a much more upbeat sort of Viking metal than the likes of Bathory or Thyrfing—in fact, it’s much closer in style to symphonic power metal. Songs follow formulaic structures with catchy choruses and tons of hooks. Vansind has a little Coronatus in them, and their blend of beauty and beast style vocalists bears comparisons to Epica. J. Asgaard takes on the role of the beast, with death growls reminiscent of Amon Amarth’s Johann Hegg, and he allows enough melody to permeate his performance to create a compelling presence. Line Burglin, as Asgaard’s foil, has an uplifting, folky lilt and practically steals the show. Just listening to her part on the showstopping opener “Det Største Offer,” as she accompanies an inspired tin whistle, is pure bliss. Then on “Alvild,” while Asgaard’s growls portend darkness, Burglin’s catchy chorus transports you to a happier place. When Hævnen ends on the lower energy “Skæbnens Tunge Vej,” it’s thanks to her that the track doesn’t feel out of place.

    Due to their adherence to unique folk instruments, Vansind has a distinct sound. And boy do they have hooks: guitar hooks, bagpipe hooks, tin whistle hooks, vocal hooks, right hooks, left—whoops! Wrong sport. The promo credits Rikke Klint Johansen with the bulk of the folk stuff, namely bagpipes, tin whistles, and keyboards. She does a commendable job of making those instruments some of the most memorable parts on Hævnen. The whistle in particular, plays a surprisingly prominent role. Along with the opening song, Johansen performs some catchy whistle parts on “Blodhævn” and “Det Sidste Nådeskys.” She’s also excellent on the bagpipes, with some great moments on “Alvild,” “I Yggdrasils Skygge,” and the finale.2 And, of course, the heavy metal parts are no slouch either. Danni Jelsgaard’s work on the kit provides a huge boost of energy that never wavers until the final tune. Kirk Backarach and Nikolaj Madsen both play some enjoyable melodic leads (“Det Største Offer,” “Blodhævn,” “Truslen Fra Dybet”) and a nice solo on “Alvild.” Instrumentally, there’s no weak link.

    Though tons of fun, Hævnen lacks the edge and daring to really push it into great territory. One issue is Asgaard’s vocals. While overall an enjoyable performance, they feel too polished, monotonous, and lacking in power. Some extra volume and depth from his growls would have helped the tracks carry more weight, but either Asgaard or the mixing falls short. While the formulaic nature of the music serves to highlight the hooks, it also means Vansind plays things a little too safe. Some might also take issue with the song lengths, which mostly run at 5+ minutes. “Det Største Offer,” for example, is the longest at nine minutes, but I personally never felt bothered by this. When the hooks are as great as they are here, it’s tough to complain about repetitive formulas or songs running a little longer than usual.

    Vansind have put out an incredibly fun piece of folk metal. “Det Største Offer” currently sits atop my song o’ the year list, and it’s going to be a tough one to top. While the rest of Hævnen doesn’t quite reach the lofty heights of that opener, there are plenty of other bangers throughout. This fun sophomore outing instills lots of hope for what Vansind can offer in the future. While the halls of Valhalla promise plenty of ecstasies for warriors slain in battle, Hævnen serves as an adequate substitute for the rest of us, especially alongside a generous helping of mead.

    Rating: 3.5/5.0
    DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
    Label: Mighty Music
    Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
    Releases Worldwide: May 1st, 2026

    #2026 #35 #AmonAmarth #Bathory #Coronatus #DanishMetal #Epica #Finntroll #FolkMetal #Hævnen #May26 #MightyMusic #Review #Reviews #Thyrfing #Vansind
  8. Cnoc An Tursa – A Cry for the Slain Review By Grin Reaper

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

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

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

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

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

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

    #2026 #35 #ACryForTheSlain #ApocalypticWitchcraftRecordings #Apr26 #BlackCrossHotel #BlackMetal #CnocAnTursa #Finntroll #FolkMetal #Hellripper #IronMaiden #Otyg #Review #Reviews #ScottishMetal #Turisas
  9. Equilibrium – Equinox Review

    By Samguineous Maximus

    More than almost any other metal niche, folk metal has to walk a treacherously thin line between “actually good music” and “full-body cringe.” For every band that can fuse arena-sized melodies with genuine folk charm, there are three more tumbling headfirst into the Neckbeard Abyss™, condemned to soundtrack the Nordic-themed house parties of Reddit mods everywhere. Equilibrium has stood proudly on both sides of that divide. Their early triumphs of Turis Frayter and Sagas were mead-soaked romps packed with syrupy pagan hooks and enough triumphant Bjoriffs to level a longhouse, but ever since, the spark has dimmed, and each new release has brought diminishing returns. Armageddon (2016) was passable, and Renegades (2019) marked a true low point, trading their Viking swagger for a baffling electro-trance-metal makeover that landed with all the grace of a drunken troll. Now, six years later, Equilibrium returns with Equinox, a tightened lineup and a new vocalist in tow, promising a glorious reclamation of their folk-metal throne. Have they forged another worthy slab of epic, mead-raising metal? Or are they destined to spend eternity staring wistfully at the echoes of their own past conquests?

    Equinox marks a clear return to form for Equilibrium after the detour of Renegades. The electronic and metalcore elements from their last record still linger, occasionally poking their neon-tinted heads out, but the heart of the band’s sound is back in full force: that boisterous blend of Finntroll and Ensiferum filtered through the Europower cheese of Rhapsody of Fire, now with a touch of Avatar added. The songs are built on a familiar mix of traditional woodwinds, thick distorted guitars, and gaudy synth lines, with newcomer Fabi’s fearsome growl leading the charge through straightforward verses and repeated choruses. When these ingredients click, and the newer sonic flourishes collide with the band’s classic, folk-driven sense of epic grandeur, the result can be exhilarating. Tracks like “Gnosis,” “Awakening” and “Bloodwood” move easily between core-tinged riffs and massive, sing-along Viking choruses, delivered with the bombast Equilibrium is known for. Unfortunately, the rest of the album doesn’t reach the same heights.

    According to the band, Equinox was originally intended as an EP rather than a full-length release, and the pacing issues and filler make that easy to believe. Large sections of several songs feel like padding before the actual track begins. Both “Borrowed Waters” and “Legends” open with long, drawn-out “atmospheric” intros that sap the impact of what follows, and the album includes no fewer than three interludes (“Archivist,” “Rituals of Sun and Moon” and “Tides of Time”). These moments don’t do the record any favors. They’re often delivered through a jarring mix of electronic trap drums, over-the-top synth lines and the band’s more traditional woodwind flourishes, creating a stylistic mishmash that feels pulled straight from a fantasy-themed Fortnite event. At times, these elements collide with simplistic, “tribal,” repetition-heavy vocals (“Earth Tongue”), resulting in something that sounds closer to a hyper-dramatic Nordaboo YouTube montage than classic Equilibrium. Even though the album does contain plenty of fully formed songs, these detours make the overall experience feel uneven and lopsided.

    There are moments on Equinox where Equilibrium’s updated approach works despite its flaws. “I’ll Be Thunder” is a concise, effective track that blends electronic and orchestral elements into a tightly written folk-metal package. Even the seemingly toxic trance-metal/rap/metalcore hybrid verse in “One Hundred Hands” is intriguing, though the autotuned chorus and generic breakdown drag the song down. To the band’s credit, the mixing is solid across the album. It’s polished without being crushed by excessive loudness for a Nuclear Blast release, and producer Daniel McCook does an admirable job balancing the electronic, orchestral, and metal components. The result is a surprisingly even production that rewards multiple listens. I just wish there were more aspects of Equinox I could praise without reservations.

    Equinox is a difficult album to recommend despite its strengths. Equilibrium have mostly abandoned the divisive sound of their previous record, while adapting its electronic elements in a return to form. The singles here do capture the bombast of their earlier work and are fun enough on their own, but the record around them is inconsistent and, at time,s baffling in its execution. Equilibrium could certainly do a lot worse, but this is far from the re-conquest of the folk metal throne it could’ve been.

    Rating: 2.0/5.0
    DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kb/s mp3
    Label: Nuclear Blast Records
    Websites: equilibrium-metal.net | facebook.com/equilibrium
    Releases Worldwide: November 28th, 2025

    #20 #2025 #avatar #electronicMetal #ensiferum #equilibrium #equinox #finntroll #folkMetal #germanM #melodicDeathMetal #metalcore #nov25 #nuclearBlast #orchestralMetal #review #reviews #rhapsodyOfFire

  10. Metal Blade Video 🤘 The mighty Ensiferum throwing it down at Summer Breeze 2025 with "Fatherland"! #ensiferum #folkmetal: Ensiferum's latest record, 'Winter Storm' is out now.
    Grab your copy/listen HERE: metalblade.com/ensiferum/ dlvr.it/TP44V3 LinkInBio for More 🤘 #MetalBladeRecords #HeavyMetal #Metal

  11. Cemican – U k’u’uk’ankil Mayakaaj Review

    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

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

  12. Æl-Fierlen – All Is Far Away Review

    By Killjoy

    Like a specter emerging from the mist, Æl-Fierlen is a brand new post-black metal act that materialized in Southern England in 2024. Their name comes from an Anglo-Saxon phrase meaning “all is far away,” making their debut something of an eponymous record. This phrase resonates with me because, despite living so close to many wonderful outdoor locations, I don’t make nearly as much time as I ought to experience them. As if beckoning to me, Æl-Fierlen sums up their sound with the simple declaration, “We are what the woods sounds like.” If you long to become lost in mystic marvels, come take a walk through the metaphorical trees.

    Just as a forest has both light and dark spots, so does the music of Æl-Fierlen. In this way, they sound very much like a sister group of Helga, weaving elegant post-rock together with strands of black metal. There is also a discernible folk tinge akin to cousin groups Kalandra and Suldusk. Æl-Fierlen mainly sticks to the brighter style of Kalandra, like a well-lit clearing near the outskirts. But sometimes the compositions dare to venture into darker Suldusk territory with ominous whispers and guitar strumming that erupt into blast beats and shrieks without warning. What these three related groups have in common is a captivating female lead vocalist, and Æl-Fierlen is similarly rooted in Stephanie Moffatt’s enchanting voice.

    A lot hinges on Moffatt’s vocals and she comes through in a big way. Her singing has an otherworldly, spectral quality, yet is also warm and inviting. Then, in the final verse of “To Sleep Eternal,” she shifts to a higher octave which heightens the drama for a flourishing finish. However, much like Sylvaine, she is not confined to ethereal tones, adopting a piercing bite when the occasion calls for it. “Eðe”1 is the prime example of her masterful mixture of chilling rasps and guttural growls, and it also happens to be the song with the most black metal influence. Her coarse whispers cast a menacing shadow over “Pulrose,” just enough for an underscoring effect without being overused. All in all, Moffatt’s versatility is one of Æl-Fierlen’s most important assets.

    Examined holistically, though, All Is Far Away seems a little thin in both sound and content. This is partly because the instrumental side often takes a stripped-back form, likely to accommodate the vocals. The other band members do have their moments to shine; I particularly enjoy it when Rob Melville’s guitar tremolos intertwine with drummer Ginger’s knotted double bass drum rhythms in the back half of “Ællmiht.” It’s just that these moments aren’t as pronounced or developed as I’d prefer. This might not have been much of an issue if there were a bit more to chew on. Clocking in at 33 minutes across only four tracks, All Is Far Away is barely longer than an EP. To Æl-Fierlen’s credit, even though most of the songs are in the 8-11 minute range, they flow silkily and hardly feel their length. One more such song would have been perfect.

    Æl-Fierlen has a keen sense of grace and beauty. If, like me, you find it hard to set aside time to be physically present in nature, All Is Far Away offers a charming aural jaunt through the woods. Stephanie Moffatt’s delightful and multifaceted voice perfectly suits the evocative atmosphere. Each of the four tracks has its own distinct character, one leading into the next like a gently flowing brook. All Is Far Away is a cohesive and convincing first effort from a nascent group, albeit a tad on the lean side. While this may be more of a foundational work, I look forward to hearing what Æl-Fierlen builds atop it in the future.

    Rating: 3.0/5.0
    DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
    Label: Self-Release
    Websites: ael-fierlen.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/AElFierlen
    Releases Worldwide: September 19th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #AllIsFarAway #ÆlFierlen #BlackMetal #BritishMetal #FolkMetal #Helga #Kalandra #PostRock #Review #Reviews #SelfRelease #Sep25 #Suldusk #Sylvaine

  13. Stuck in the Filter: June 2025’s Angry Misses

    By Kenstrosity


    Sweat pours out of our pores. Heat blisters metal and scorches dirt. Power bills rise relentlessly, without mercy. These are the signs of summer in the brutal ductwork that is our hallowed Filter. But we continue onward in search of those metallic scraps that provide such unbridled joy to our masses. The only variable: who of my trusted team will survive this season, and who will perish in the service of this sacred duty?

    We won’t know the answer until this article gets published. And when it is, the statistics will be fabricated and obfuscated accordingly. So ignore the death toll and instead peep the haul!

    Kenstrosity’s Meanest Meanies

    Shadow of Intent // Imperium Delirium [June 12th, 2025 – Self-Release]

    For over a decade, Connecticut/Rhode Island melodic deathcore independents Shadow of Intent challenged the standards of the genre by offering album after album of ripping tracks filled with drama, clever songwriting, and demolishing vocal talent. In their catalog, Elegy was the one record of theirs that didn’t stick with me. However, Imperium Delirium rapidly righted the ship with 55 minutes of opulent, evil, and crushing melodic destruction. Raging through its first half without a single misstep, Imperium Delirium is a focused effort chock full of devastating heft, buttery smooth songwriting, and a favorable riffs-to-breakdowns ratio. The back half focuses on drama and orchestration just a touch more, but songs like “Feeding the Meatgrinder,” “Vehement Draconian Vengeance,” and “No Matter the Cost” still bring the violence required to annihilate entire planets. Championing this unending assault of killer tunes, Ben Duerr’s vocal performance is intimidating to say the least, easily reinforcing his rightful place as one of the very best extreme vocalists in the scene today. Of course, the record is still too long by about 10 minutes, and a fair amount of that bloat comes from the slightly overblown self-titled closer. Additionally, while I appreciate the reverent nod to the instrumental talent on “Apocalypse Canvas,” I don’t believe it adds enough to the story of this record. Nonetheless, Imperium Delirium might be one of my favorite Shadows of Intent, and I look forward to where it leads me next.

    ClarkKent’s Literary Listen

    Nightbearer // Defiance [June 13, 2025 – Testimony Records]

    Anyone looking for a mashup of Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy and Gothenburg melodeath, look no further than the latest album from Germany’s Nightbearer. Defiance marks album number three in the band’s repertoire, and a continuation of their worship of fantasy epics.1 Right off the bat, the catchy harmonic guitar lead of “His Dark Materials” summons Dark Tranquillity and At the Gates. The guitar work by Dominik Hellmuth and Tristan Schubert is fantastic throughout–their creative melodies bring to mind lively outfits like Brymir. Michael Torka’s beastly growls and Manuel Lüke’s thunderous drumming add some brutality and weight to the harmonious riffs. A few songs even go full brutal death metal (“One Church Over All”, “Dying Knows No Bounds”). Perhaps the standout track comes from the 9-minute epic, “Ascension.” It starts with an eerie synth intro before breaking out into some of the best riffs on Defiance. Then, just as things settle down, the song builds back up and explodes into something straight from Blackwater Park-era Opeth. Overall, this is an impressive collection of songs that’s sure to scratch that HM-2 itch.

    Tyme’s Juxtaposed Jotting

    Lipoma // No Cure for the Sick [June 13th, 2025 – Gurgling Gore]

    Melodic gore-grind. Yeah, it’s a thing. And California-based Lipoma’s new album, No Cure for the Sick, proves it’s a pretty fucking cool thing at that—the brainchild of one Max Pierce (aka Dr. Lipoma).2 Since going live in 2021, Lipoma has been insanely active, releasing a slew of splits and EPs along with two full-length albums: 2022’s Horrors of Pathology and 2023’s Odes to Suffering. And while Lipoma has steadily worked to make comparisons with fellow purveyors like Carcass, Lymphatic Phlegm, and Pharmacist less relevant, No Cure for the Sick moves things to a different ballpark, one full of Gothenburgian melodicism (“Cult of the Firehealers,” “Glory to the Blade”), post-metallic pop-punk optimism (“Cardiac Scars Forever,” “Psalms of Psoriasis”), indecipherable gurgles, and organ, which is what sets Lipoma’s No Cure for the Sick apart not only from previous efforts, but the pack in general. From the circus-like atmosphere shrouding opener “The Sea Surgeon,” Pierce’s use of organ permeates much of No Cure for the Sick’s forty minutes, buoying the melodic heaviness and excellent solo work with jig-like danceability (“Remedies of Pagan Medicine,” “Last Anatomy of Johan Ziegler,” “No Cure for the Sick”). Pierce’s melodically charged instrumentation, when juxtaposed against his gore-ground gurglings—a combo that works in a way it has no right to—sees Lipoma doing something I find wholly unique, a rarity in today’s digital age. I have had a ton of fun with No Cure for the Sick, and if you’ve not checked it out yet, do so post haste.

    Iceberg’s Frosty Forget-Me-Nots

    Puppe Magnetik // Laudans Deum [June 6th, 2025 – The Circle Music]

    Laudans Deum is not for the faint of heart, if that album cover didn’t quite convince you. The debut compilation of Puppe Magnetik, the record dives deep into the recesses of the human psyche. Aina Virtanen weaponizes industrial metal, ambient, and drone, wrapped up in the stylings of the Weimar Republic. An accomplished classically-trained musician, Virtanen uses her clean vocals sparingly (“Who Will Sing This Sorrow,” “Labyrinth”) but to great effect, reminiscent of Diablo Swing Orchestra. But the accessibility stops there; Laudans Deum’s thirteen tracks are comprised of ambient meditations (“Moritat”), ear-splitting electronic barrages (“Suspendium, Rosarium et Crucifixu”), and mood music fit for a throwback horror movie (“The Pregnant Nun,” “Patient AV”). But within the graveyard are scattered moments of respite; the gorgeously rendered classical guitar of “Timeless Serenade” and the haunting vocals of “Laments From The Desert.” While the album is unforgivingly through-composed, making for an exceptionally difficult first listen, there’s something darkly endearing about it. I’m reminded of Sergei Prokofiev, the Russian composer whose music was often described as both grotesque and starkly beautiful. Puppe Magnetik have produced a challenging record, but it’s worth a listen for those who enjoy avant-garde music and the stranger, more terrifying corners of the aural arts.

    All Men Unto Me // Requiem [June 27th, 2025 – The Larvarium]

    A little more metal, but a lot more challenging, All Men Unto Me’s Requiem brings to bear the full weight of spiritual suffering. Requiem is a direct interpretation of the Latin Mass for the Dead, it’s eight tracks playing all the hits. Fuzzed out, half-time doom takes a supporting role in a record that heavily features pipe organ, acoustic guitar, and string leads. Rylan Greaves takes a unique approach here, subverting the natural tension and release of the rite by injecting clanging noise into passages normally reverent. Their vocal performance is the unrepentant star of the show, at times crystalline (“Introit”) at others sobbing (“Kyrie”) straining (“Agnus Dei”) and howling (“Sequentia”). The album takes its time to sink its claws into you, with long track lengths and extended droning chords requiring patience. But pay close attention to Greaves’ lyrics and you can’t help but be pulled into the raw, emotional drama of Requiem. The rising, ethereal sunset of “In Paradisum,” the falsetto whisper speaking “God knows what I’d be without you” against an impossibly high, ever so slightly off-key bell-tone. One’s left wondering the true meaning of that line as the track ends, and the dead remain silent. A powerful statement indeed.

    Killjoy’s Fabulous Find

    Fabula Rasa // Tome II: The Beyond [June 13th, 2025 – Self-Release]

    The words “fabulous” and “fable” are interconnected, both derived from the Latin word “fabulosus.” And since folk music and power metal draw heavily from fables and myths, the portmanteau Fabula Rasa is a fitting name for a group that blends both genres. Following the lead of forebears Elvenking and early Mägo de Oz, this spirited crew from Düsseldorf, Germany, infuses what would otherwise be standard—but good!—heavy/power metal with lots of violin. The violin and guitar trade off playing the lead melodies, though the former tends to have greater emphasis. But fret not, shred-heads, for the guitar solos are also exemplary in the more power metal-leaning songs, like “Dragon Rising” and “Vengeance Is Mine.” The violin often carves its own folksy space, the cheery, zippy fiddling akin to Dalriada (“At Full Moon,” “Anthem of the North”). Most songs are energetic, but “Burning Innocence” is a pleasant surprise midway through the record, with hand drums and the other band members’ vocal contributions creating an intimate group setting. Don’t miss this charismatic performance from these fabulous musicians.

    Maddog’s Sludgy Selection

    Dimscûa // Dust Eater [June 3rd, 2025 – Self-Release]

    While sludge is a dime a dozen, few bands scratch the same itch as Amenra’s best work. The UK’s Dimscûa aims to correct this oversight. Dust Eater opens with “Elder Bairn,” whose rhythmic riffs evoke the meditative power of LLNN. After this appetizer, the album’s interplay between brawn and heart rivals Amenra. While Dimscûa’s muscular riffs drive the album forward (“Existence/Futility”), Dust Eater stands out through its hypnotic melodies. The heartache in these melodies is palpable, magnified by tortured vocals that recall Julie Christmas. Because of this ebb and flow, the album never feels bloated despite its eight-minute average track length. For instance, “Existence/Futility” abandons and then suddenly resurrects its driving main riff, adding unexpected variety and lodging into my memory. Dust Eater’s climaxes sometimes fall short, like the fizzle-out ending of “The Dusteater.” But despite its imperfections, Dimscûa’s debut is a powerful outing in a neglected style.3

    Dear Hollaback’s Ain’t No B-A-N-A-N-A-S

    Various Artists // KPop Demon Hunters [Original Motion Picture Soundtrack] [June 20th, 2025 – Republic Records]4

    Okay, look. Look. K-Pop is not metal, I get that. But the gang over at Sony concocted what just recently earned the title of Netflix’s most watched movie of all time, and holy shit, what a soundtrack.. I’d like to use the classic “my daughter made me do it” schtick but she only likes “Takedown.”5 KPop Demon Hunters creates insanely catchy pop music that’s also focused and intentional, a commentary on the rigid and flagellant nature of K-Pop alongside feel-good messages of self-acceptance and healing (“Golden,” “What It Sounds Like”). The focal girl group HUNTR/X does most of the heavy lifting, also tossing in enough pop culture-inclined battle hymns to make the republic jealous (“How It’s Done,” “Takedown”). Their on-screen rivals Saja Boys offer entendre-layered sugary pop (the infamous “Soda Pop”) and sinister Gregorian-influenced choruses (“Your Idol”). Beyond the novelty is intentionality: clever chord progressions that feel continually transcendent rather than stagnantly by-the-numbers (“What It Sounds Like”), diminuendos of authenticity among bombasts of a glossy sheen (“Golden”), touches of dissonance paired with unsettling slant rhymes (“Your Idol”), and rhythmic complexity building to ethereal climaxes of soaring belts (“Free”). While yes, I’m telling you to give it a spin, I am also giving excuses for why my review count dropped to critical this summer. Fuck off, I’m gonna be, gonna be golden.

    #2025 #AllMenUntoMe #Ambient #AmericanMetal #AtTheGates #AvantGarde #Brymir #Carcass #Dalriada #DarkTranquility #Deathcore #Defiance #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dimscûa #Drone #DustEater #Elvenking #FabulaRasa #FinnishMetal #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #GurglingGore #HeavyMetal #HUNTRX #ImperiumDelirium #IndustrialMetal #Jun25 #KPop #KPopDemonHunters #LaudansDeum #Lipoma #LymphaticPhlegm #MägoDeOz #MelodicDeathMetal #MelodicDeathcore #Nightbearer #NoCureForTheSick #Opeth #Pharmacist #PowerMetal #PuppeMagnetik #RepublicRecords #Requiem #Review #Reviews #SajaBoys #SelfRelease #SelfReleased #ShadowOfIntent #StuckInTheFilter #TestimonyRecords #TheCircleMusic #TheLarvarium #TomeIITheBeyond #UKMetal #VariousArtists

  14. Burden of Ymir – The Long Winter Review

    By Twelve

    Joe Caswell of Sudbury, Canada first caught the attention of this blog in 2023, as the sole member of Drowstorm and Burden of Ymir. Both projects released albums in 2023, impressing all who wrote about them. In my case, Heorot was a fantastic introduction to the latter band, a blackened-yet-folky display of Viking metal that appealed to both my appreciation for mythologically-themed metal and my longheld belief that the accordion is the most metal of all the instruments. Now, just over two years later, Burden of Ymir return with its sixth full-length release (in as many years!): The Long Winter, with an album cover that promises just as much blackened goodness as we’ve come to hope for. At this point in the year, I’d love a long winter, but I’ll settle for some frosty metal if that’s what’s being offered!

    At first glance, The Long Winter is exactly what you expect from Caswell and Burden of Ymir; the Norse influence is tangible, the black metal is blisteringly fast, and the accordion is present. And yet, The Long Winter is a darker, heavier record than its predecessor. Caswell does not hold back in the riffs department, and it’s a testament to his songwriting that The Long Winter feels heavy for the full forty-five minutes without sounding forced. Compared to Heorot, The Long Winter sees Burden of Ymir treading slightly less folk-y waters, focusing more on its black metal influences and allowing the concept to do some more of the lifting on the folk side. Songs like “Like Blood in the Snow” are angry, pulling no punches and letting riffs and blast beats shine. It’s recognizably Burden of Ymir, but sees a definitive step in a new—but still familiar—direction.

    Still, folky fusion and blackened metal are two things Burden of Ymir do extremely well, and having the metal heavier only enhances the union. Opener “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” is a multifaceted gem with hooks, moody, tense interludes, and a galloping chorus that’ll have you setting sail before you know it. “Strange Craft” builds around an accordion lead in its intro into an unsettling, melodic journey through dark magic and black forests before exploding into black metal fury. “Another Seed of Yggdrasil” breaks out the clean singing for a mystical chorus that counterbalances Caswell’s rasps—as up to the task as ever, but at their most effective working alongside these more melodic elements. All this is to say that Caswell’s ability to blend black metal and Viking themes is as strong as ever, and The Long Winter is more enjoyable for it.

    I’ve mentioned that The Long Winter dials back a bit on the “Viking” quality that was so apparent in Heorot, resulting in a listen that ultimately leans blacker and heavier than folky. The aforementioned accordion makes a few, brief appearances, and Caswell’s clean singing is much diminished. More notably, the hooky writing from Heorot is curiously absent; more songs are carried by riffs than leads, resulting in an overall less melodic listen. This makes tracks like “Strange Craft” and “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” stand out—they’re generally more energetic than the rest of the album, particularly the closing third. While it’s certainly all strong, it feels like the blend doesn’t quite mesh the way it should. There are a bunch of songs I love here, several that I like, and a few that feel like they’re there to beef up The Long Winter more so than entertain. They are entertaining—I can’t stress that enough—but I would hazard a guess that Burden of Ymir has a slightly different vision for The Long Winter than what I’ve personally experienced.

    Still, Caswell is a great songwriter, strong guitarist, and knows his mythologies, meaning The Long Winter is a fun listen that continues his hot streak over several one-man projects, styles, and album releases. If black metal is your thing, there’s something for you here. If Viking folk is your thing, there’s something for you here. I won’t say it all comes together perfectly, but it doesn’t really have to. It just has to be enjoyable to listen to for most of an hour, and it is. If you like any of the above styles, I would happily recommend you take a break from the awful weather we’re having (read: warm) and enjoy a long winter instead.

    Rating: 3.0/5.0
    DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
    Label: Flowing Downward
    Websites: burdenofymir.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/BurdenOfYmir
    Releases Worldwide: July 4th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #BlackMetal #BurdenOfYmir #CanadianMetal #Drowstorm #FlowingDownward #FolkMetal #Jul25 #Review #Reviews #TheLongWinter #VikingMetal

  15. Burden of Ymir – The Long Winter Review

    By Twelve

    Joe Caswell of Sudbury, Canada first caught the attention of this blog in 2023, as the sole member of Drowstorm and Burden of Ymir. Both projects released albums in 2023, impressing all who wrote about them. In my case, Heorot was a fantastic introduction to the latter band, a blackened-yet-folky display of Viking metal that appealed to both my appreciation for mythologically-themed metal and my longheld belief that the accordion is the most metal of all the instruments. Now, just over two years later, Burden of Ymir return with its sixth full-length release (in as many years!): The Long Winter, with an album cover that promises just as much blackened goodness as we’ve come to hope for. At this point in the year, I’d love a long winter, but I’ll settle for some frosty metal if that’s what’s being offered!

    At first glance, The Long Winter is exactly what you expect from Caswell and Burden of Ymir; the Norse influence is tangible, the black metal is blisteringly fast, and the accordion is present. And yet, The Long Winter is a darker, heavier record than its predecessor. Caswell does not hold back in the riffs department, and it’s a testament to his songwriting that The Long Winter feels heavy for the full forty-five minutes without sounding forced. Compared to Heorot, The Long Winter sees Burden of Ymir treading slightly less folk-y waters, focusing more on its black metal influences and allowing the concept to do some more of the lifting on the folk side. Songs like “Like Blood in the Snow” are angry, pulling no punches and letting riffs and blast beats shine. It’s recognizably Burden of Ymir, but sees a definitive step in a new—but still familiar—direction.

    Still, folky fusion and blackened metal are two things Burden of Ymir do extremely well, and having the metal heavier only enhances the union. Opener “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” is a multifaceted gem with hooks, moody, tense interludes, and a galloping chorus that’ll have you setting sail before you know it. “Strange Craft” builds around an accordion lead in its intro into an unsettling, melodic journey through dark magic and black forests before exploding into black metal fury. “Another Seed of Yggdrasil” breaks out the clean singing for a mystical chorus that counterbalances Caswell’s rasps—as up to the task as ever, but at their most effective working alongside these more melodic elements. All this is to say that Caswell’s ability to blend black metal and Viking themes is as strong as ever, and The Long Winter is more enjoyable for it.

    I’ve mentioned that The Long Winter dials back a bit on the “Viking” quality that was so apparent in Heorot, resulting in a listen that ultimately leans blacker and heavier than folky. The aforementioned accordion makes a few, brief appearances, and Caswell’s clean singing is much diminished. More notably, the hooky writing from Heorot is curiously absent; more songs are carried by riffs than leads, resulting in an overall less melodic listen. This makes tracks like “Strange Craft” and “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” stand out—they’re generally more energetic than the rest of the album, particularly the closing third. While it’s certainly all strong, it feels like the blend doesn’t quite mesh the way it should. There are a bunch of songs I love here, several that I like, and a few that feel like they’re there to beef up The Long Winter more so than entertain. They are entertaining—I can’t stress that enough—but I would hazard a guess that Burden of Ymir has a slightly different vision for The Long Winter than what I’ve personally experienced.

    Still, Caswell is a great songwriter, strong guitarist, and knows his mythologies, meaning The Long Winter is a fun listen that continues his hot streak over several one-man projects, styles, and album releases. If black metal is your thing, there’s something for you here. If Viking folk is your thing, there’s something for you here. I won’t say it all comes together perfectly, but it doesn’t really have to. It just has to be enjoyable to listen to for most of an hour, and it is. If you like any of the above styles, I would happily recommend you take a break from the awful weather we’re having (read: warm) and enjoy a long winter instead.

    Rating: 3.0/5.0
    DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
    Label: Flowing Downward
    Websites: burdenofymir.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/BurdenOfYmir
    Releases Worldwide: July 4th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #BlackMetal #BurdenOfYmir #CanadianMetal #Drowstorm #FlowingDownward #FolkMetal #Jul25 #Review #Reviews #TheLongWinter #VikingMetal

  16. Burden of Ymir – The Long Winter Review

    By Twelve

    Joe Caswell of Sudbury, Canada first caught the attention of this blog in 2023, as the sole member of Drowstorm and Burden of Ymir. Both projects released albums in 2023, impressing all who wrote about them. In my case, Heorot was a fantastic introduction to the latter band, a blackened-yet-folky display of Viking metal that appealed to both my appreciation for mythologically-themed metal and my longheld belief that the accordion is the most metal of all the instruments. Now, just over two years later, Burden of Ymir return with its sixth full-length release (in as many years!): The Long Winter, with an album cover that promises just as much blackened goodness as we’ve come to hope for. At this point in the year, I’d love a long winter, but I’ll settle for some frosty metal if that’s what’s being offered!

    At first glance, The Long Winter is exactly what you expect from Caswell and Burden of Ymir; the Norse influence is tangible, the black metal is blisteringly fast, and the accordion is present. And yet, The Long Winter is a darker, heavier record than its predecessor. Caswell does not hold back in the riffs department, and it’s a testament to his songwriting that The Long Winter feels heavy for the full forty-five minutes without sounding forced. Compared to Heorot, The Long Winter sees Burden of Ymir treading slightly less folk-y waters, focusing more on its black metal influences and allowing the concept to do some more of the lifting on the folk side. Songs like “Like Blood in the Snow” are angry, pulling no punches and letting riffs and blast beats shine. It’s recognizably Burden of Ymir, but sees a definitive step in a new—but still familiar—direction.

    Still, folky fusion and blackened metal are two things Burden of Ymir do extremely well, and having the metal heavier only enhances the union. Opener “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” is a multifaceted gem with hooks, moody, tense interludes, and a galloping chorus that’ll have you setting sail before you know it. “Strange Craft” builds around an accordion lead in its intro into an unsettling, melodic journey through dark magic and black forests before exploding into black metal fury. “Another Seed of Yggdrasil” breaks out the clean singing for a mystical chorus that counterbalances Caswell’s rasps—as up to the task as ever, but at their most effective working alongside these more melodic elements. All this is to say that Caswell’s ability to blend black metal and Viking themes is as strong as ever, and The Long Winter is more enjoyable for it.

    I’ve mentioned that The Long Winter dials back a bit on the “Viking” quality that was so apparent in Heorot, resulting in a listen that ultimately leans blacker and heavier than folky. The aforementioned accordion makes a few, brief appearances, and Caswell’s clean singing is much diminished. More notably, the hooky writing from Heorot is curiously absent; more songs are carried by riffs than leads, resulting in an overall less melodic listen. This makes tracks like “Strange Craft” and “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” stand out—they’re generally more energetic than the rest of the album, particularly the closing third. While it’s certainly all strong, it feels like the blend doesn’t quite mesh the way it should. There are a bunch of songs I love here, several that I like, and a few that feel like they’re there to beef up The Long Winter more so than entertain. They are entertaining—I can’t stress that enough—but I would hazard a guess that Burden of Ymir has a slightly different vision for The Long Winter than what I’ve personally experienced.

    Still, Caswell is a great songwriter, strong guitarist, and knows his mythologies, meaning The Long Winter is a fun listen that continues his hot streak over several one-man projects, styles, and album releases. If black metal is your thing, there’s something for you here. If Viking folk is your thing, there’s something for you here. I won’t say it all comes together perfectly, but it doesn’t really have to. It just has to be enjoyable to listen to for most of an hour, and it is. If you like any of the above styles, I would happily recommend you take a break from the awful weather we’re having (read: warm) and enjoy a long winter instead.

    Rating: 3.0/5.0
    DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
    Label: Flowing Downward
    Websites: burdenofymir.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/BurdenOfYmir
    Releases Worldwide: July 4th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #BlackMetal #BurdenOfYmir #CanadianMetal #Drowstorm #FlowingDownward #FolkMetal #Jul25 #Review #Reviews #TheLongWinter #VikingMetal

  17. Burden of Ymir – The Long Winter Review

    By Twelve

    Joe Caswell of Sudbury, Canada first caught the attention of this blog in 2023, as the sole member of Drowstorm and Burden of Ymir. Both projects released albums in 2023, impressing all who wrote about them. In my case, Heorot was a fantastic introduction to the latter band, a blackened-yet-folky display of Viking metal that appealed to both my appreciation for mythologically-themed metal and my longheld belief that the accordion is the most metal of all the instruments. Now, just over two years later, Burden of Ymir return with its sixth full-length release (in as many years!): The Long Winter, with an album cover that promises just as much blackened goodness as we’ve come to hope for. At this point in the year, I’d love a long winter, but I’ll settle for some frosty metal if that’s what’s being offered!

    At first glance, The Long Winter is exactly what you expect from Caswell and Burden of Ymir; the Norse influence is tangible, the black metal is blisteringly fast, and the accordion is present. And yet, The Long Winter is a darker, heavier record than its predecessor. Caswell does not hold back in the riffs department, and it’s a testament to his songwriting that The Long Winter feels heavy for the full forty-five minutes without sounding forced. Compared to Heorot, The Long Winter sees Burden of Ymir treading slightly less folk-y waters, focusing more on its black metal influences and allowing the concept to do some more of the lifting on the folk side. Songs like “Like Blood in the Snow” are angry, pulling no punches and letting riffs and blast beats shine. It’s recognizably Burden of Ymir, but sees a definitive step in a new—but still familiar—direction.

    Still, folky fusion and blackened metal are two things Burden of Ymir do extremely well, and having the metal heavier only enhances the union. Opener “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” is a multifaceted gem with hooks, moody, tense interludes, and a galloping chorus that’ll have you setting sail before you know it. “Strange Craft” builds around an accordion lead in its intro into an unsettling, melodic journey through dark magic and black forests before exploding into black metal fury. “Another Seed of Yggdrasil” breaks out the clean singing for a mystical chorus that counterbalances Caswell’s rasps—as up to the task as ever, but at their most effective working alongside these more melodic elements. All this is to say that Caswell’s ability to blend black metal and Viking themes is as strong as ever, and The Long Winter is more enjoyable for it.

    I’ve mentioned that The Long Winter dials back a bit on the “Viking” quality that was so apparent in Heorot, resulting in a listen that ultimately leans blacker and heavier than folky. The aforementioned accordion makes a few, brief appearances, and Caswell’s clean singing is much diminished. More notably, the hooky writing from Heorot is curiously absent; more songs are carried by riffs than leads, resulting in an overall less melodic listen. This makes tracks like “Strange Craft” and “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” stand out—they’re generally more energetic than the rest of the album, particularly the closing third. While it’s certainly all strong, it feels like the blend doesn’t quite mesh the way it should. There are a bunch of songs I love here, several that I like, and a few that feel like they’re there to beef up The Long Winter more so than entertain. They are entertaining—I can’t stress that enough—but I would hazard a guess that Burden of Ymir has a slightly different vision for The Long Winter than what I’ve personally experienced.

    Still, Caswell is a great songwriter, strong guitarist, and knows his mythologies, meaning The Long Winter is a fun listen that continues his hot streak over several one-man projects, styles, and album releases. If black metal is your thing, there’s something for you here. If Viking folk is your thing, there’s something for you here. I won’t say it all comes together perfectly, but it doesn’t really have to. It just has to be enjoyable to listen to for most of an hour, and it is. If you like any of the above styles, I would happily recommend you take a break from the awful weather we’re having (read: warm) and enjoy a long winter instead.

    Rating: 3.0/5.0
    DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
    Label: Flowing Downward
    Websites: burdenofymir.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/BurdenOfYmir
    Releases Worldwide: July 4th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #BlackMetal #BurdenOfYmir #CanadianMetal #Drowstorm #FlowingDownward #FolkMetal #Jul25 #Review #Reviews #TheLongWinter #VikingMetal

  18. Burden of Ymir – The Long Winter Review

    By Twelve

    Joe Caswell of Sudbury, Canada first caught the attention of this blog in 2023, as the sole member of Drowstorm and Burden of Ymir. Both projects released albums in 2023, impressing all who wrote about them. In my case, Heorot was a fantastic introduction to the latter band, a blackened-yet-folky display of Viking metal that appealed to both my appreciation for mythologically-themed metal and my longheld belief that the accordion is the most metal of all the instruments. Now, just over two years later, Burden of Ymir return with its sixth full-length release (in as many years!): The Long Winter, with an album cover that promises just as much blackened goodness as we’ve come to hope for. At this point in the year, I’d love a long winter, but I’ll settle for some frosty metal if that’s what’s being offered!

    At first glance, The Long Winter is exactly what you expect from Caswell and Burden of Ymir; the Norse influence is tangible, the black metal is blisteringly fast, and the accordion is present. And yet, The Long Winter is a darker, heavier record than its predecessor. Caswell does not hold back in the riffs department, and it’s a testament to his songwriting that The Long Winter feels heavy for the full forty-five minutes without sounding forced. Compared to Heorot, The Long Winter sees Burden of Ymir treading slightly less folk-y waters, focusing more on its black metal influences and allowing the concept to do some more of the lifting on the folk side. Songs like “Like Blood in the Snow” are angry, pulling no punches and letting riffs and blast beats shine. It’s recognizably Burden of Ymir, but sees a definitive step in a new—but still familiar—direction.

    Still, folky fusion and blackened metal are two things Burden of Ymir do extremely well, and having the metal heavier only enhances the union. Opener “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” is a multifaceted gem with hooks, moody, tense interludes, and a galloping chorus that’ll have you setting sail before you know it. “Strange Craft” builds around an accordion lead in its intro into an unsettling, melodic journey through dark magic and black forests before exploding into black metal fury. “Another Seed of Yggdrasil” breaks out the clean singing for a mystical chorus that counterbalances Caswell’s rasps—as up to the task as ever, but at their most effective working alongside these more melodic elements. All this is to say that Caswell’s ability to blend black metal and Viking themes is as strong as ever, and The Long Winter is more enjoyable for it.

    I’ve mentioned that The Long Winter dials back a bit on the “Viking” quality that was so apparent in Heorot, resulting in a listen that ultimately leans blacker and heavier than folky. The aforementioned accordion makes a few, brief appearances, and Caswell’s clean singing is much diminished. More notably, the hooky writing from Heorot is curiously absent; more songs are carried by riffs than leads, resulting in an overall less melodic listen. This makes tracks like “Strange Craft” and “As Witches Under Cloak of Night” stand out—they’re generally more energetic than the rest of the album, particularly the closing third. While it’s certainly all strong, it feels like the blend doesn’t quite mesh the way it should. There are a bunch of songs I love here, several that I like, and a few that feel like they’re there to beef up The Long Winter more so than entertain. They are entertaining—I can’t stress that enough—but I would hazard a guess that Burden of Ymir has a slightly different vision for The Long Winter than what I’ve personally experienced.

    Still, Caswell is a great songwriter, strong guitarist, and knows his mythologies, meaning The Long Winter is a fun listen that continues his hot streak over several one-man projects, styles, and album releases. If black metal is your thing, there’s something for you here. If Viking folk is your thing, there’s something for you here. I won’t say it all comes together perfectly, but it doesn’t really have to. It just has to be enjoyable to listen to for most of an hour, and it is. If you like any of the above styles, I would happily recommend you take a break from the awful weather we’re having (read: warm) and enjoy a long winter instead.

    Rating: 3.0/5.0
    DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
    Label: Flowing Downward
    Websites: burdenofymir.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/BurdenOfYmir
    Releases Worldwide: July 4th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #BlackMetal #BurdenOfYmir #CanadianMetal #Drowstorm #FlowingDownward #FolkMetal #Jul25 #Review #Reviews #TheLongWinter #VikingMetal

  19. Månegarm – Edsvuren Review

    By Angry Metal Guy

    Once upon a time, Månegarm was an apex predator of the blackened folk metal scene that took metal by storm (er, Storm) in the early-to-mid-2000s. For a brief moment, as Heathenfests proliferated and white guys from Wisconsin,1 fell in love with songs about Vikings and runes, the Viking metal/folk metal subgenre was the Next Big Thing, fueled by a surprisingly liquid supply of fiddles, jaw harps, gallops, and flask-swinging choruses. Yet, time wasn’t kind. Turisas ghosted us after leaving us a weird note, Finntroll got lost in the woods and returned changed, and even Thyrfing and Moonsorrow have slowed to a crawl. But Månegarm has never stopped.2 With the impending release of Edsvuren (Oathbound or Sworn), their thirteenth full-length and fifth since signing with Napalm Records, this Swedish trio stands as one of the last standard-bearers of this once-ferocious scene.

    Månegarm’s arc explains how we got here. From Havets vargar (2000) to Nattväsen (2009), Månegarm was among the hardest-hitting of the folk metal vanguard. They blended black metal’s blasting intensity with violin counterpoint (and solos), and Erik Grawsiö’s gravel-throated roar. But following Nattväsen, Månegarm underwent a serious change. With the departure of their violinist and bassist, Grawsiö moved to bass, but more importantly, they emerged with a retooled sound. By 2013’s Legions of the North, Månegarm had begun shaping themselves towards something more akin to Amon Amarth’s mid-paced crunch than the blastful abandon of their black metal roots. Edsvuren continues the same trajectory, letting the flames burn low rather than trying to rekindle the blaze; content to let the embers glow.

    When the wind blows right, however, Månegarm’s fire burns bright. When these Swedes go heavy, the results are still vital—some of the best metal they’ve released in years. The opening trifecta demonstrates this: “I skogfruns famn” brims with trem-picked harmonies, fiddle, and melodies and pacing that evoke Isengard or Lumsk. “Lögrinns värn” picks up the pace and builds on Amon Amarthian heft, while “En Blodvittneskrans”—one of the album’s standout tracks—crackles with surprisingly punk-inflected drumming and tremelos that transport me to Bjoergvin. On the album’s back half, we again find heavy tracks that brim with harmonic minor riffing, fantastic vocal harmonies, and creative songwriting. “Skild från hugen” stretches into a seven-minute epic, weaving gallops, fiddle, and a doomy interlude where Elinor Videfors’ smoky alto helps to elevate the song. While “Likgökens fest” follows with another blast of urgency. In these moments, Månegarm is vibrant and confident, with a powerful sound and presence.

    Much of Edsvuren, however, lives in the embers. Acoustic folk tracks like “Rodhins hav,” “Till gudars följe,” and “I runor ristades orden” aren’t filler; they’re beautiful. The production places each acoustic strum and hand drum with care, and Videfors’ voice adds a crystalline, haunting quality. Ancient and evocative, these songs are built on droning harmonies and modal folk melodies. And they sound great. In listening to these, I’m reminded of Panopticon’s Laurentian Blue, folk music with fiddle and a deep melancholy.3 The problem is proportion. Nearly half the record lives in this slower, acoustic, or mid-paced heavy space. And when stacked back-to-back (“Rodhins hav” through “Hör mitt kall,” and then again in the closing pair of songs), the album sputters. At 51 minutes, Edsvuren isn’t overlong, but there are moments when the pacing lengthens the album.

    The vocals provide the oxygen that keeps Edsvuren burning, showcasing some of the finest arrangements Månegarm has ever recorded. Grawsiö’s extreme vocals remain commanding, but it’s his cleans—gravelly and full,4 at times evoking throat singing—that unite Edsvuren. The interplay with the guest vocalists—Elinor Videfors, Grawsiö’s daughter Lea on “I skogfruns famn”—is well balanced. And at its best, the record gives the impression that you’re sitting around the campfire and listening to them sing. Choruses bloom into layers of voices that feel almost ritualistic—but at least communal—and are balanced expertly in the mix (“Till gudars följe”). There’s an almost Finntrollian playfulness in the vocal arrangements at times (again, “Till gudars följe”), while at other times the harmonies are clinically tight like harmonic minor Bad Religion or early Soen. Even when the riffs tread familiar ground—or the album feels like it’s slowing down too much—the vocals continually elevate compositions and keep me hooked.

    Edsvuren is an album that’s easy to like, but tricky to love. But I can say with confidence that it’s my favorite Månegarm since the Napalm run began in 2013. The heavy material is vital, energetic, and it reminds me of why I fell in love with these Swedish wolves to begin with. The folk songs and feel are brittle and beautiful, and give the album character and variety. Unfortunately, the overall balance of the record leans a little too hard into mid-tempo riffs, rock feels rather than blastbeats, and acoustic folk music—resulting in pacing that makes it feel less than the sum of its Very-Good!-to-Great! parts. I enjoy the songs, I admire the craft, but taken as a whole, they leave Edsvuren a little low on bite. Edsvuren may not spark anew Månegarm’s flames, but it tends the embers—keeping them warm enough for fellowship, beer, and song.

    Rating: Good!
    DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream5
    Label: Napalm Records
    Websites: linktr.ee/manegarmofficial | manegarm.bandcamp.com
    Releases Worldwide: August 29th, 2025

    #2025 #30 #AmonAmarth #Aug25 #BadReligion #Edsvuren #Finntroll #FolkMetal #HavetsVargar #Isengard #LaurentianBlue #Lumsk #Månegarm #MelodicBlackMetal #MelodicDeathMetal #Moonsorrow #NapalmRecords #Nattväsen #Panopticon #Review #Reviews #Soen #Storm #Thyrfing #Turisas #VikingMetal

  20. Völur & Cares – Breathless Spirit Review

    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

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

  21. Burden of Ymir – Heorot [Things You Might Have Missed 2023]

    By Twelve

    Joe Caswell, of Ontario, Canada, is having quite the year; his newest band, Swamp Fiend, released their debut full-length this year, and both of his solo projects, Drowstorm and Burden of Ymir, put out new releases within two weeks of each other. It would be understandable if these solo releases were only fine; it would be impressive if they were decent. But instead, they’re actually good, and Burden of Ymir’s Heorot in particular stands as a shining example of folky black metal, playing with a level of quality that would make you think it’s the only thing Caswell had worked on all year. For fans of black metal, fans of folk metal, and those who understand that the accordion is the most metal of all the instruments, Heorot is here for you.

    But first, a fun fact: up until 10 minutes ago, when I downloaded the image you see over there for this article, I thought the cover image for Heorot was this image—the cover image for Burden of Ymir’s debut, Jötnar. At no point did I question this, because the image fits! Impressive, Norse, and huge—that’s this album in a nutshell. Whether in the chanted cleans that augment the snarls (with special effect on “Recounting on the Seas”), the always-welcome accordion (seriously, try getting “Monsters of the Lake” out of your head—not easy!), or the generally adventurous guitar tremolos (on basically every song), Heorot is an album that is filled with adventurous, exciting, Viking metal. Despite my earlier description of the music as “Norse,” the actual subject matter is Old English—Beowulf, to be precise. You can feel the presence of a unifying theme throughout; the album feels like an adventure, a quest, a noble table, and is a treat to listen to through its full forty-three-minute runtime.

    Of course, it helps that the songwriting is terrific. Burden of Ymir knows how to write hooks, whether vocally, through guitars, or via folky additions. You’ve got the short-and-sweet songs, like “Revenge Found in the Night,” which put the black metal on full blast, including dramatic shifts in tone that keep the song fresh. In a similar vein, “Monsters of the Lake” is a phenomenal folk metal tune, taking one super-catchy lead and running with it, with accordion and guitar lead both. These songs are quick, heavy, and fun. On the other side of the album are “Recounting on the Seas” and “The Ninth Hour Approaches,” both of which demonstrate that Caswell can kill a longer song too—the level of storytelling and musical variance on display keeps either song from overstaying their welcome, and I appreciate in particular the mid-pace tempo of the latter song. All throughout Heorot, the songwriting is sharp, making for a thoroughly enjoyable record.

    The colder it gets outside, the more I like Heorot. This is an album that, like its actual, correct cover image, embodies a wintry spirit and an adventurous style—something I’ve felt was sorely missing this year! So if you did miss out on the sophomore full-length from Burden of Ymir, this is your call to change that. Heorot is an adventure I you probably don’t want to miss out on. I’m certainly glad I didn’t.

    Tracks to Check Out: “Monsters of the Lake,” “Threat of Fire,” “The Great Mead Hall”

    #2023 #BlackMetal #BurdenOfYmir #CanadianMetal #Drowstorm #FlowingDownward #FolkMetal #Review #Reviews #SwampFiend #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2023

  22. Burden of Ymir – Heorot [Things You Might Have Missed 2023]

    By Twelve

    Joe Caswell, of Ontario, Canada, is having quite the year; his newest band, Swamp Fiend, released their debut full-length this year, and both of his solo projects, Drowstorm and Burden of Ymir, put out new releases within two weeks of each other. It would be understandable if these solo releases were only fine; it would be impressive if they were decent. But instead, they’re actually good, and Burden of Ymir’s Heorot in particular stands as a shining example of folky black metal, playing with a level of quality that would make you think it’s the only thing Caswell had worked on all year. For fans of black metal, fans of folk metal, and those who understand that the accordion is the most metal of all the instruments, Heorot is here for you.

    But first, a fun fact: up until 10 minutes ago, when I downloaded the image you see over there for this article, I thought the cover image for Heorot was this image—the cover image for Burden of Ymir’s debut, Jötnar. At no point did I question this, because the image fits! Impressive, Norse, and huge—that’s this album in a nutshell. Whether in the chanted cleans that augment the snarls (with special effect on “Recounting on the Seas”), the always-welcome accordion (seriously, try getting “Monsters of the Lake” out of your head—not easy!), or the generally adventurous guitar tremolos (on basically every song), Heorot is an album that is filled with adventurous, exciting, Viking metal. Despite my earlier description of the music as “Norse,” the actual subject matter is Old English—Beowulf, to be precise. You can feel the presence of a unifying theme throughout; the album feels like an adventure, a quest, a noble table, and is a treat to listen to through its full forty-three-minute runtime.

    Of course, it helps that the songwriting is terrific. Burden of Ymir knows how to write hooks, whether vocally, through guitars, or via folky additions. You’ve got the short-and-sweet songs, like “Revenge Found in the Night,” which put the black metal on full blast, including dramatic shifts in tone that keep the song fresh. In a similar vein, “Monsters of the Lake” is a phenomenal folk metal tune, taking one super-catchy lead and running with it, with accordion and guitar lead both. These songs are quick, heavy, and fun. On the other side of the album are “Recounting on the Seas” and “The Ninth Hour Approaches,” both of which demonstrate that Caswell can kill a longer song too—the level of storytelling and musical variance on display keeps either song from overstaying their welcome, and I appreciate in particular the mid-pace tempo of the latter song. All throughout Heorot, the songwriting is sharp, making for a thoroughly enjoyable record.

    The colder it gets outside, the more I like Heorot. This is an album that, like its actual, correct cover image, embodies a wintry spirit and an adventurous style—something I’ve felt was sorely missing this year! So if you did miss out on the sophomore full-length from Burden of Ymir, this is your call to change that. Heorot is an adventure I you probably don’t want to miss out on. I’m certainly glad I didn’t.

    Tracks to Check Out: “Monsters of the Lake,” “Threat of Fire,” “The Great Mead Hall”

    #2023 #BlackMetal #BurdenOfYmir #CanadianMetal #Drowstorm #FlowingDownward #FolkMetal #Review #Reviews #SwampFiend #ThingsYouMightHaveMissed2023

  23. Got tomorrow off work, I'll be going to the Underworld in Camden for the #Finntroll gig in the evening :)

    I don't think I've been to the Underworld since a year or two before the pandemic, weirdly this is probably the longest time without going there since university. Actually kind of looking forward to seeing the place as well as the gig.

    #HeavyMetal #FolkMetal