#napalmrecords — Public Fediverse posts

Brymir are back with their new album, ‘What We Leave Behind,’ a dark exploration of loss and regret. Check out our review of the Finnish melodic death metal outfit’s fifth album.

Read Here: https://metalinsider.net/new-music/album-review-brymir-what-we-leave-behind

#Brymir #WhatWeLeaveBehind #NapalmRecords #NewMusic #AlbumReview

Brymir are back with their new album, ‘What We Leave Behind,’ a dark exploration of loss and regret. Check out our review of the Finnish melodic death metal outfit’s fifth album.

Read Here: https://metalinsider.net/new-music/album-review-brymir-what-we-leave-behind

#Brymir #WhatWeLeaveBehind #NapalmRecords #NewMusic #AlbumReview

Frozen Crown does not seem like a group that’s content to sit still for very long. Since The Fallen King in 2018, they have yet to let more than two years go by between full-length releases. These Italians have tinkered with their signature blend of power metal and various other subgenres over the years, on which Eldritch Elitist has expertly expounded with overall positive results. Most recently, he praised 2024’s War Hearts for its concise, pop-leaning compositions. Their sixth album, The Legend of the Six Kings, is a continuation of this sleek, streamlined strategy, with outcomes that may be surprising for longtime fans.

The most immediately obvious change is in Frozen Crown’s velocity, as they move away from a fast-paced Wintersun sound and towards a mid-paced Battle Beast emphasis on rousing anthems. Whereas the melodic death metal influence used to be heard in the instrumentation alone, The Legend of the Six Kings flips the script with simpler heavy metal instrumentation and occasional melodeath growls by Federico Mondelli. This isn’t to say that Frozen Crown is abandoning their Europower roots, though. Cuts such as “Lightning in the Sky” and “Through the Fire” showcase Giada “Jade” Etro’s gritty singing alongside galloping guitar leads, and there is still some swift soloing to be found in some of the songs (“Winter Hearts,” “The One”).

Yet, The Legend of the Six Kings almost always feels watered down in tempo and technicality when compared to its predecessors. Although Frozen Crown is no stranger to soaring choruses, the main focus now appears to be audience engagement during live performances. In a recorded setting, this works better at times than others. The title track’s chorus evokes a similar epic and triumphant feeling as Ancient Bards, whereas “Who Wants to Burn in Heaven” hinges on a catchy, oft-repeated refrain that grows tired after only four minutes. In general, the hooks are not mind-blowingly catchy enough to justify this priority shift to slower, sing-along songwriting. “Winter Hearts” is where Frozen Crown sounds the most like their old selves, with spirited riffs and double bass drumming. It makes me miss when these core elements used to coexist with the thrilling anthems on prior albums.

But Frozen Crown’s reduced pace doesn’t mean they can’t still play some great tunes. In “River of Time,” the vocals and the guitars harmonize to create a warm Brothers of Metal tone that I enjoy. There’s even a cover of “Iris” (Goo Goo Dolls) which sounds surprisingly good in power metal form. The decision to slot “Iris” in the middle of the record rather than tacking it onto the end was a bold one that I’m not sure was fully warranted, but it does help inject some needed vitality into the back half, which has stronger pacing than the front. In terms of song lengths, The Legend of the Six Kings is quite rushed, with most of the ten tracks lasting less than four minutes. I would have preferred more time to flesh out the ideas on display, as the compositions sound a little undercooked and blur together somewhat.

While Frozen Crown may not be inclined to sit still in their career, their music shows signs of running out of steam. They inexplicably discarded the majority of the rapid riffs and rhythms that served as their solid foundation until this point, and it saddens me to hear them so diminished in urgency. The songs are all decent enough on their own, but the relative homogeneity in tempo and the simpler guitar leads cause The Legend of the Six Kings to drag more than its 36-minute runtime would suggest. Similarly, the band members’ individual performances are very well executed, as usual, but the songwriting is a lot safer and more generic across the board. That said, Frozen Crown has never released the same record twice, so I maintain hope for the future. Until then, you’ll find me back at War Hearts.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: frozencrown.bandcamp.com | frozencrown.net | facebook.com/frozencrownofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 2nd, 2026

Frozen Crown does not seem like a group that’s content to sit still for very long. Since The Fallen King in 2018, they have yet to let more than two years go by between full-length releases. These Italians have tinkered with their signature blend of power metal and various other subgenres over the years, on which Eldritch Elitist has expertly expounded with overall positive results. Most recently, he praised 2024’s War Hearts for its concise, pop-leaning compositions. Their sixth album, The Legend of the Six Kings, is a continuation of this sleek, streamlined strategy, with outcomes that may be surprising for longtime fans.

The most immediately obvious change is in Frozen Crown’s velocity, as they move away from a fast-paced Wintersun sound and towards a mid-paced Battle Beast emphasis on rousing anthems. Whereas the melodic death metal influence used to be heard in the instrumentation alone, The Legend of the Six Kings flips the script with simpler heavy metal instrumentation and occasional melodeath growls by Federico Mondelli. This isn’t to say that Frozen Crown is abandoning their Europower roots, though. Cuts such as “Lightning in the Sky” and “Through the Fire” showcase Giada “Jade” Etro’s gritty singing alongside galloping guitar leads, and there is still some swift soloing to be found in some of the songs (“Winter Hearts,” “The One”).

Yet, The Legend of the Six Kings almost always feels watered down in tempo and technicality when compared to its predecessors. Although Frozen Crown is no stranger to soaring choruses, the main focus now appears to be audience engagement during live performances. In a recorded setting, this works better at times than others. The title track’s chorus evokes a similar epic and triumphant feeling as Ancient Bards, whereas “Who Wants to Burn in Heaven” hinges on a catchy, oft-repeated refrain that grows tired after only four minutes. In general, the hooks are not mind-blowingly catchy enough to justify this priority shift to slower, sing-along songwriting. “Winter Hearts” is where Frozen Crown sounds the most like their old selves, with spirited riffs and double bass drumming. It makes me miss when these core elements used to coexist with the thrilling anthems on prior albums.

But Frozen Crown’s reduced pace doesn’t mean they can’t still play some great tunes. In “River of Time,” the vocals and the guitars harmonize to create a warm Brothers of Metal tone that I enjoy. There’s even a cover of “Iris” (Goo Goo Dolls) which sounds surprisingly good in power metal form. The decision to slot “Iris” in the middle of the record rather than tacking it onto the end was a bold one that I’m not sure was fully warranted, but it does help inject some needed vitality into the back half, which has stronger pacing than the front. In terms of song lengths, The Legend of the Six Kings is quite rushed, with most of the ten tracks lasting less than four minutes. I would have preferred more time to flesh out the ideas on display, as the compositions sound a little undercooked and blur together somewhat.

While Frozen Crown may not be inclined to sit still in their career, their music shows signs of running out of steam. They inexplicably discarded the majority of the rapid riffs and rhythms that served as their solid foundation until this point, and it saddens me to hear them so diminished in urgency. The songs are all decent enough on their own, but the relative homogeneity in tempo and the simpler guitar leads cause The Legend of the Six Kings to drag more than its 36-minute runtime would suggest. Similarly, the band members’ individual performances are very well executed, as usual, but the songwriting is a lot safer and more generic across the board. That said, Frozen Crown has never released the same record twice, so I maintain hope for the future. Until then, you’ll find me back at War Hearts.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: frozencrown.bandcamp.com | frozencrown.net | facebook.com/frozencrownofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 2nd, 2026

Frozen Crown does not seem like a group that’s content to sit still for very long. Since The Fallen King in 2018, they have yet to let more than two years go by between full-length releases. These Italians have tinkered with their signature blend of power metal and various other subgenres over the years, on which Eldritch Elitist has expertly expounded with overall positive results. Most recently, he praised 2024’s War Hearts for its concise, pop-leaning compositions. Their sixth album, The Legend of the Six Kings, is a continuation of this sleek, streamlined strategy, with outcomes that may be surprising for longtime fans.

The most immediately obvious change is in Frozen Crown’s velocity, as they move away from a fast-paced Wintersun sound and towards a mid-paced Battle Beast emphasis on rousing anthems. Whereas the melodic death metal influence used to be heard in the instrumentation alone, The Legend of the Six Kings flips the script with simpler heavy metal instrumentation and occasional melodeath growls by Federico Mondelli. This isn’t to say that Frozen Crown is abandoning their Europower roots, though. Cuts such as “Lightning in the Sky” and “Through the Fire” showcase Giada “Jade” Etro’s gritty singing alongside galloping guitar leads, and there is still some swift soloing to be found in some of the songs (“Winter Hearts,” “The One”).

Yet, The Legend of the Six Kings almost always feels watered down in tempo and technicality when compared to its predecessors. Although Frozen Crown is no stranger to soaring choruses, the main focus now appears to be audience engagement during live performances. In a recorded setting, this works better at times than others. The title track’s chorus evokes a similar epic and triumphant feeling as Ancient Bards, whereas “Who Wants to Burn in Heaven” hinges on a catchy, oft-repeated refrain that grows tired after only four minutes. In general, the hooks are not mind-blowingly catchy enough to justify this priority shift to slower, sing-along songwriting. “Winter Hearts” is where Frozen Crown sounds the most like their old selves, with spirited riffs and double bass drumming. It makes me miss when these core elements used to coexist with the thrilling anthems on prior albums.

But Frozen Crown’s reduced pace doesn’t mean they can’t still play some great tunes. In “River of Time,” the vocals and the guitars harmonize to create a warm Brothers of Metal tone that I enjoy. There’s even a cover of “Iris” (Goo Goo Dolls) which sounds surprisingly good in power metal form. The decision to slot “Iris” in the middle of the record rather than tacking it onto the end was a bold one that I’m not sure was fully warranted, but it does help inject some needed vitality into the back half, which has stronger pacing than the front. In terms of song lengths, The Legend of the Six Kings is quite rushed, with most of the ten tracks lasting less than four minutes. I would have preferred more time to flesh out the ideas on display, as the compositions sound a little undercooked and blur together somewhat.

While Frozen Crown may not be inclined to sit still in their career, their music shows signs of running out of steam. They inexplicably discarded the majority of the rapid riffs and rhythms that served as their solid foundation until this point, and it saddens me to hear them so diminished in urgency. The songs are all decent enough on their own, but the relative homogeneity in tempo and the simpler guitar leads cause The Legend of the Six Kings to drag more than its 36-minute runtime would suggest. Similarly, the band members’ individual performances are very well executed, as usual, but the songwriting is a lot safer and more generic across the board. That said, Frozen Crown has never released the same record twice, so I maintain hope for the future. Until then, you’ll find me back at War Hearts.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: frozencrown.bandcamp.com | frozencrown.net | facebook.com/frozencrownofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 2nd, 2026

Frozen Crown does not seem like a group that’s content to sit still for very long. Since The Fallen King in 2018, they have yet to let more than two years go by between full-length releases. These Italians have tinkered with their signature blend of power metal and various other subgenres over the years, on which Eldritch Elitist has expertly expounded with overall positive results. Most recently, he praised 2024’s War Hearts for its concise, pop-leaning compositions. Their sixth album, The Legend of the Six Kings, is a continuation of this sleek, streamlined strategy, with outcomes that may be surprising for longtime fans.

The most immediately obvious change is in Frozen Crown’s velocity, as they move away from a fast-paced Wintersun sound and towards a mid-paced Battle Beast emphasis on rousing anthems. Whereas the melodic death metal influence used to be heard in the instrumentation alone, The Legend of the Six Kings flips the script with simpler heavy metal instrumentation and occasional melodeath growls by Federico Mondelli. This isn’t to say that Frozen Crown is abandoning their Europower roots, though. Cuts such as “Lightning in the Sky” and “Through the Fire” showcase Giada “Jade” Etro’s gritty singing alongside galloping guitar leads, and there is still some swift soloing to be found in some of the songs (“Winter Hearts,” “The One”).

Yet, The Legend of the Six Kings almost always feels watered down in tempo and technicality when compared to its predecessors. Although Frozen Crown is no stranger to soaring choruses, the main focus now appears to be audience engagement during live performances. In a recorded setting, this works better at times than others. The title track’s chorus evokes a similar epic and triumphant feeling as Ancient Bards, whereas “Who Wants to Burn in Heaven” hinges on a catchy, oft-repeated refrain that grows tired after only four minutes. In general, the hooks are not mind-blowingly catchy enough to justify this priority shift to slower, sing-along songwriting. “Winter Hearts” is where Frozen Crown sounds the most like their old selves, with spirited riffs and double bass drumming. It makes me miss when these core elements used to coexist with the thrilling anthems on prior albums.

But Frozen Crown’s reduced pace doesn’t mean they can’t still play some great tunes. In “River of Time,” the vocals and the guitars harmonize to create a warm Brothers of Metal tone that I enjoy. There’s even a cover of “Iris” (Goo Goo Dolls) which sounds surprisingly good in power metal form. The decision to slot “Iris” in the middle of the record rather than tacking it onto the end was a bold one that I’m not sure was fully warranted, but it does help inject some needed vitality into the back half, which has stronger pacing than the front. In terms of song lengths, The Legend of the Six Kings is quite rushed, with most of the ten tracks lasting less than four minutes. I would have preferred more time to flesh out the ideas on display, as the compositions sound a little undercooked and blur together somewhat.

While Frozen Crown may not be inclined to sit still in their career, their music shows signs of running out of steam. They inexplicably discarded the majority of the rapid riffs and rhythms that served as their solid foundation until this point, and it saddens me to hear them so diminished in urgency. The songs are all decent enough on their own, but the relative homogeneity in tempo and the simpler guitar leads cause The Legend of the Six Kings to drag more than its 36-minute runtime would suggest. Similarly, the band members’ individual performances are very well executed, as usual, but the songwriting is a lot safer and more generic across the board. That said, Frozen Crown has never released the same record twice, so I maintain hope for the future. Until then, you’ll find me back at War Hearts.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: frozencrown.bandcamp.com | frozencrown.net | facebook.com/frozencrownofficial
Releases Worldwide: October 2nd, 2026

Four years after Brymir dropped fourth LP Voices in the Sky, the Finnish quartet reemerges with fifth opus, What We Leave Behind. Despite parting ways with longtime guitarist Sean Haslam last year, fans of the band will be happy to hear Brymir’s core sound remains intact. Sleek melodic leads coat What We Leave Behind’s three-quarters of an hour, and they go down smoother than an ice-cold lonkero after an honest day’s work. Brymir’s third album Wings of Fire introduced me to the ensemble, and as Dr. Wvrm alluded to in his Voices in the Sky write-up, I was one of those won over by Wings’ spectacular apotheosis of symphonic melodeath. Voices in the Sky cleared the goalpost as well, and so I come to What We Leave Behind with great expectations—does it complete the Bryfecta?

A natural continuation of Voices in the Sky, the front half of What We Leave Behind brings sweet, candy-coated confections dusted with spirited orchestrations and earworms galore. This sort of songcraft can inundate systems with a sucrose-fueled sugar rush, but fortunately Brymir adds enough substance to their numbers that they don’t rely on sweetmeats alone. The opening batch of songs kicks off What We Leave Behind with exactly the kind of pop-forward stickiness that Brymir thrives on. “Tempestbound” supplies a scorching cut of soaring melodeath, “What We Leave Behind” beckons with wistful melodies and synth accents that remind me of Insomnium, and “Sleipnir” kicks with the strength of eight legs, buoying Joona Björkroth’s (Battle Beast) incendiary guitar work and drummer Patrik Fält’s blistering performance with infectious verve. “True Darkness” rounds out the front of the album, and it swaps the high ‘n’ mighty splendor of the preceding tracks with an iciness recalling Wintersun’s symphodeath and engendering a balanced attack through What We Leave Behind’s side A.

The back half of What We Leave Behind retains the same sweeping grandeur as the fore, although a few small hiccups inform a hint of choppiness that leaves the album a tad front-loaded. “Buried Legion” rips listeners asunder with an atmospheric malevolence heretofore unexplored by Brymir, but it’s bookended by instrumentals that dull its impact. In the promo materials, Brymir mentions that What We Leave Behind is the band’s most ‘sinister album yet.’ While this assertion misses me through “What We Leave Behind,” “True Darkness” and “Buried Legion” indeed embody some of Brymir’s most ominous textures to date. “The Roaring King” and “Broken Dawn” likewise elicit undercurrents of foreboding and lament, although Brymir never loses the threads of invigorating power that keep What We Leave Behind from ever sounding downright malignant. Album closer “How Much Is the Fish”1 ends matters on a fun note, leaving behind an uplifting aftertaste.

What We Leave Behind glimmers with a glossy production while the music brims with big riffs and choruses, but Brymir’s impact can be better qualified by how it makes me feel. Those allergic to major chords and triumphant choral swells might not be convinced, but power and energy electrify Brymir’s music with galvanizing gusto. Thrilling surges of technicality collide with rousing vocals and stirring choirs, investing tracks like “Tempestbound” and “What We Leave Behind” with an unbridled opulence that makes me want to take up a cause. Overall, What We Leave Behind radiates a majestic earnestness I find utterly charming, and even with a few minor structural qualms, I can’t resist Brymir’s draw. Unfortunately, issues with the stream interrupted the transition between songs with buffering every time, constantly taking me out of the experience and making it difficult to appreciate the album’s flow and cohesion.

Ultimately, What We Leave Behind dazzles with highly polished melodeath that lends itself to repeated spins. Despite a tonal shift a third of the way through the album, Brymir never sounds less than slick and stunning. Each song bears its own identity, yet they all weave together with masterful performances, concise songwriting, and massive guitar and synth hooks. Though I don’t think What We Leave Behind completely measures up to Wings of Fire or Voices in the Sky, I’m open to being wrong once I can experience the album as intended rather than being at the mercy of a glitchy stream. Either way, Brymir beams with bouncy ebullience even at their darkest, and this undeniable jubilance is exactly the sort of melodeath ingredient I find utterly irresistible.2 Of all the records you could Leave Behind as the year starts winding down, don’t let Brymir be one of them.

Rating: Very Good
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Bry Me a River (Stream)
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 2nd, 2026

Four years after Brymir dropped fourth LP Voices in the Sky, the Finnish quartet reemerges with fifth opus, What We Leave Behind. Despite parting ways with longtime guitarist Sean Haslam last year, fans of the band will be happy to hear Brymir’s core sound remains intact. Sleek melodic leads coat What We Leave Behind’s three-quarters of an hour, and they go down smoother than an ice-cold lonkero after an honest day’s work. Brymir’s third album Wings of Fire introduced me to the ensemble, and as Dr. Wvrm alluded to in his Voices in the Sky write-up, I was one of those won over by Wings’ spectacular apotheosis of symphonic melodeath. Voices in the Sky cleared the goalpost as well, and so I come to What We Leave Behind with great expectations—does it complete the Bryfecta?

A natural continuation of Voices in the Sky, the front half of What We Leave Behind brings sweet, candy-coated confections dusted with spirited orchestrations and earworms galore. This sort of songcraft can inundate systems with a sucrose-fueled sugar rush, but fortunately Brymir adds enough substance to their numbers that they don’t rely on sweetmeats alone. The opening batch of songs kicks off What We Leave Behind with exactly the kind of pop-forward stickiness that Brymir thrives on. “Tempestbound” supplies a scorching cut of soaring melodeath, “What We Leave Behind” beckons with wistful melodies and synth accents that remind me of Insomnium, and “Sleipnir” kicks with the strength of eight legs, buoying Joona Björkroth’s (Battle Beast) incendiary guitar work and drummer Patrik Fält’s blistering performance with infectious verve. “True Darkness” rounds out the front of the album, and it swaps the high ‘n’ mighty splendor of the preceding tracks with an iciness recalling Wintersun’s symphodeath and engendering a balanced attack through What We Leave Behind’s side A.

The back half of What We Leave Behind retains the same sweeping grandeur as the fore, although a few small hiccups inform a hint of choppiness that leaves the album a tad front-loaded. “Buried Legion” rips listeners asunder with an atmospheric malevolence heretofore unexplored by Brymir, but it’s bookended by instrumentals that dull its impact. In the promo materials, Brymir mentions that What We Leave Behind is the band’s most ‘sinister album yet.’ While this assertion misses me through “What We Leave Behind,” “True Darkness” and “Buried Legion” indeed embody some of Brymir’s most ominous textures to date. “The Roaring King” and “Broken Dawn” likewise elicit undercurrents of foreboding and lament, although Brymir never loses the threads of invigorating power that keep What We Leave Behind from ever sounding downright malignant. Album closer “How Much Is the Fish”1 ends matters on a fun note, leaving behind an uplifting aftertaste.

What We Leave Behind glimmers with a glossy production while the music brims with big riffs and choruses, but Brymir’s impact can be better qualified by how it makes me feel. Those allergic to major chords and triumphant choral swells might not be convinced, but power and energy electrify Brymir’s music with galvanizing gusto. Thrilling surges of technicality collide with rousing vocals and stirring choirs, investing tracks like “Tempestbound” and “What We Leave Behind” with an unbridled opulence that makes me want to take up a cause. Overall, What We Leave Behind radiates a majestic earnestness I find utterly charming, and even with a few minor structural qualms, I can’t resist Brymir’s draw. Unfortunately, issues with the stream interrupted the transition between songs with buffering every time, constantly taking me out of the experience and making it difficult to appreciate the album’s flow and cohesion.

Ultimately, What We Leave Behind dazzles with highly polished melodeath that lends itself to repeated spins. Despite a tonal shift a third of the way through the album, Brymir never sounds less than slick and stunning. Each song bears its own identity, yet they all weave together with masterful performances, concise songwriting, and massive guitar and synth hooks. Though I don’t think What We Leave Behind completely measures up to Wings of Fire or Voices in the Sky, I’m open to being wrong once I can experience the album as intended rather than being at the mercy of a glitchy stream. Either way, Brymir beams with bouncy ebullience even at their darkest, and this undeniable jubilance is exactly the sort of melodeath ingredient I find utterly irresistible.2 Of all the records you could Leave Behind as the year starts winding down, don’t let Brymir be one of them.

Rating: Very Good
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Bry Me a River (Stream)
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 2nd, 2026

Four years after Brymir dropped fourth LP Voices in the Sky, the Finnish quartet reemerges with fifth opus, What We Leave Behind. Despite parting ways with longtime guitarist Sean Haslam last year, fans of the band will be happy to hear Brymir’s core sound remains intact. Sleek melodic leads coat What We Leave Behind’s three-quarters of an hour, and they go down smoother than an ice-cold lonkero after an honest day’s work. Brymir’s third album Wings of Fire introduced me to the ensemble, and as Dr. Wvrm alluded to in his Voices in the Sky write-up, I was one of those won over by Wings’ spectacular apotheosis of symphonic melodeath. Voices in the Sky cleared the goalpost as well, and so I come to What We Leave Behind with great expectations—does it complete the Bryfecta?

A natural continuation of Voices in the Sky, the front half of What We Leave Behind brings sweet, candy-coated confections dusted with spirited orchestrations and earworms galore. This sort of songcraft can inundate systems with a sucrose-fueled sugar rush, but fortunately Brymir adds enough substance to their numbers that they don’t rely on sweetmeats alone. The opening batch of songs kicks off What We Leave Behind with exactly the kind of pop-forward stickiness that Brymir thrives on. “Tempestbound” supplies a scorching cut of soaring melodeath, “What We Leave Behind” beckons with wistful melodies and synth accents that remind me of Insomnium, and “Sleipnir” kicks with the strength of eight legs, buoying Joona Björkroth’s (Battle Beast) incendiary guitar work and drummer Patrik Fält’s blistering performance with infectious verve. “True Darkness” rounds out the front of the album, and it swaps the high ‘n’ mighty splendor of the preceding tracks with an iciness recalling Wintersun’s symphodeath and engendering a balanced attack through What We Leave Behind’s side A.

The back half of What We Leave Behind retains the same sweeping grandeur as the fore, although a few small hiccups inform a hint of choppiness that leaves the album a tad front-loaded. “Buried Legion” rips listeners asunder with an atmospheric malevolence heretofore unexplored by Brymir, but it’s bookended by instrumentals that dull its impact. In the promo materials, Brymir mentions that What We Leave Behind is the band’s most ‘sinister album yet.’ While this assertion misses me through “What We Leave Behind,” “True Darkness” and “Buried Legion” indeed embody some of Brymir’s most ominous textures to date. “The Roaring King” and “Broken Dawn” likewise elicit undercurrents of foreboding and lament, although Brymir never loses the threads of invigorating power that keep What We Leave Behind from ever sounding downright malignant. Album closer “How Much Is the Fish”1 ends matters on a fun note, leaving behind an uplifting aftertaste.

What We Leave Behind glimmers with a glossy production while the music brims with big riffs and choruses, but Brymir’s impact can be better qualified by how it makes me feel. Those allergic to major chords and triumphant choral swells might not be convinced, but power and energy electrify Brymir’s music with galvanizing gusto. Thrilling surges of technicality collide with rousing vocals and stirring choirs, investing tracks like “Tempestbound” and “What We Leave Behind” with an unbridled opulence that makes me want to take up a cause. Overall, What We Leave Behind radiates a majestic earnestness I find utterly charming, and even with a few minor structural qualms, I can’t resist Brymir’s draw. Unfortunately, issues with the stream interrupted the transition between songs with buffering every time, constantly taking me out of the experience and making it difficult to appreciate the album’s flow and cohesion.

Ultimately, What We Leave Behind dazzles with highly polished melodeath that lends itself to repeated spins. Despite a tonal shift a third of the way through the album, Brymir never sounds less than slick and stunning. Each song bears its own identity, yet they all weave together with masterful performances, concise songwriting, and massive guitar and synth hooks. Though I don’t think What We Leave Behind completely measures up to Wings of Fire or Voices in the Sky, I’m open to being wrong once I can experience the album as intended rather than being at the mercy of a glitchy stream. Either way, Brymir beams with bouncy ebullience even at their darkest, and this undeniable jubilance is exactly the sort of melodeath ingredient I find utterly irresistible.2 Of all the records you could Leave Behind as the year starts winding down, don’t let Brymir be one of them.

Rating: Very Good
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Bry Me a River (Stream)
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 2nd, 2026

Four years after Brymir dropped fourth LP Voices in the Sky, the Finnish quartet reemerges with fifth opus, What We Leave Behind. Despite parting ways with longtime guitarist Sean Haslam last year, fans of the band will be happy to hear Brymir’s core sound remains intact. Sleek melodic leads coat What We Leave Behind’s three-quarters of an hour, and they go down smoother than an ice-cold lonkero after an honest day’s work. Brymir’s third album Wings of Fire introduced me to the ensemble, and as Dr. Wvrm alluded to in his Voices in the Sky write-up, I was one of those won over by Wings’ spectacular apotheosis of symphonic melodeath. Voices in the Sky cleared the goalpost as well, and so I come to What We Leave Behind with great expectations—does it complete the Bryfecta?

A natural continuation of Voices in the Sky, the front half of What We Leave Behind brings sweet, candy-coated confections dusted with spirited orchestrations and earworms galore. This sort of songcraft can inundate systems with a sucrose-fueled sugar rush, but fortunately Brymir adds enough substance to their numbers that they don’t rely on sweetmeats alone. The opening batch of songs kicks off What We Leave Behind with exactly the kind of pop-forward stickiness that Brymir thrives on. “Tempestbound” supplies a scorching cut of soaring melodeath, “What We Leave Behind” beckons with wistful melodies and synth accents that remind me of Insomnium, and “Sleipnir” kicks with the strength of eight legs, buoying Joona Björkroth’s (Battle Beast) incendiary guitar work and drummer Patrik Fält’s blistering performance with infectious verve. “True Darkness” rounds out the front of the album, and it swaps the high ‘n’ mighty splendor of the preceding tracks with an iciness recalling Wintersun’s symphodeath and engendering a balanced attack through What We Leave Behind’s side A.

The back half of What We Leave Behind retains the same sweeping grandeur as the fore, although a few small hiccups inform a hint of choppiness that leaves the album a tad front-loaded. “Buried Legion” rips listeners asunder with an atmospheric malevolence heretofore unexplored by Brymir, but it’s bookended by instrumentals that dull its impact. In the promo materials, Brymir mentions that What We Leave Behind is the band’s most ‘sinister album yet.’ While this assertion misses me through “What We Leave Behind,” “True Darkness” and “Buried Legion” indeed embody some of Brymir’s most ominous textures to date. “The Roaring King” and “Broken Dawn” likewise elicit undercurrents of foreboding and lament, although Brymir never loses the threads of invigorating power that keep What We Leave Behind from ever sounding downright malignant. Album closer “How Much Is the Fish”1 ends matters on a fun note, leaving behind an uplifting aftertaste.

What We Leave Behind glimmers with a glossy production while the music brims with big riffs and choruses, but Brymir’s impact can be better qualified by how it makes me feel. Those allergic to major chords and triumphant choral swells might not be convinced, but power and energy electrify Brymir’s music with galvanizing gusto. Thrilling surges of technicality collide with rousing vocals and stirring choirs, investing tracks like “Tempestbound” and “What We Leave Behind” with an unbridled opulence that makes me want to take up a cause. Overall, What We Leave Behind radiates a majestic earnestness I find utterly charming, and even with a few minor structural qualms, I can’t resist Brymir’s draw. Unfortunately, issues with the stream interrupted the transition between songs with buffering every time, constantly taking me out of the experience and making it difficult to appreciate the album’s flow and cohesion.

Ultimately, What We Leave Behind dazzles with highly polished melodeath that lends itself to repeated spins. Despite a tonal shift a third of the way through the album, Brymir never sounds less than slick and stunning. Each song bears its own identity, yet they all weave together with masterful performances, concise songwriting, and massive guitar and synth hooks. Though I don’t think What We Leave Behind completely measures up to Wings of Fire or Voices in the Sky, I’m open to being wrong once I can experience the album as intended rather than being at the mercy of a glitchy stream. Either way, Brymir beams with bouncy ebullience even at their darkest, and this undeniable jubilance is exactly the sort of melodeath ingredient I find utterly irresistible.2 Of all the records you could Leave Behind as the year starts winding down, don’t let Brymir be one of them.

Rating: Very Good
DR: NA | Format Reviewed: Bry Me a River (Stream)
Label: Napalm Records
Websites: Website | Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram
Releases Worldwide: October 2nd, 2026