#vanrecords — Public Fediverse posts

The Ruins of Beverast has never released a bad album. Its architect, Nagelfar alum Alexander von Meilenwald, has both a devotion to the trve and old-school as well as a flexibility to experiment, creating a legendary discography that feels like a natural progression from beginning to end. From the early and raw marriage of black metal and doom that set the foundation with genre classics Unlock the Shrine and Rain Upon the Impure, to the more melodic and ritualistic horrors of Foulest Semen of a Sheltered Elite and Blood Vaults, culminating in the ritual-imbued pinnacle Exuvia, the act has an uncanny ability to recall the familiar while trudging into unexplored territory. Tempelschlaf is the newest installment of just that.

If I’m being honest, I was not a fan of predecessor The Thule Grimoires – not for a flaw on von Meilenwald’s part but of my own preferences. Case in point, its heavier Type O Negative Gothic leanings and interplay of chord structures and themes weren’t necessarily my cup of tea, although they definitely were the gone-but-unforgotten Akerblogger’s brew of choice. Tempelschlaf echoes The Thule Grimoires in psychedelic textures and a more prominent baritone clean vocal presence that conjures a ritualistic madness, streamlined into a stronger crescendo and sense of purpose, as well as its signature breed of atmospheric black-doom with a hint of death metal. Tempelschlaf is exactly what you’d expect from The Ruins of Beverast.

Tempelschlaf by The Ruins Of Beverast

As always, balance and songwriting are The Ruins of Beverast’s priority, demonstrating von Meilenwald’s dedication to both progression and devotion to the blackened arts. As seen throughout the act’s legendary discography, Tempelschlaf features seamless movements from furious blasting to simmering menace to crystalline psychedelia to climactic solos, which is a clear winning formula, bolstered by a dichotomy of plodding black/doom furor and ritualistic placidity. The opening title track is of special note for its shifts and subtlety: blackened intensity is placed in the background in favor of a mammoth and dense foray into doom-saturated goth rock, giving a blackened Depeche Mode vibe with a lack of harsh vocals and instead, baritone sermons atop pulsing ritualistic drums guiding into a dreary and menacing goth verses, drenched in frosted keys and psychedelic textures. It sets the tone for the rest of the album, giving The Ruins of Beverast perhaps their biggest crescendo yet.

While the focus shifts from a mind-altering breed of psychedelic and dense doom metal in the opener, the rest of the album offers no gentle reprieve. While the wavering between the simmering and the searing is an asset for The Ruins of Beverast, it’s far more intense with a trve blackened assault guiding the proceedings (“Day of the Poacher”), but the back half of the album finds the album remarkably cohesive – the collision of ideas creating some of the most epic and grandiose movements since Exuvia. The drums’ mammoth pace, the guitar tone whose heft and barb are equally displayed, the venomous and toxic shrieks, and the otherworldly atmosphere through classic synth textures assemble in a massive sound that already feels like AOTY material (“Cathedral of Bleeding Statues,” “Alpha Fluids,” “The Carrion Cocoon”), interspersed by moments of furious blackened intensity (“Babel, You Scarlet Queen!”) and the lull before the storm (“Last Theatre of the Sea”). These tracks are the exemplar for The Ruins of Beverast’s breed of blackened doom, once again reinforcing itself as the upper echelon through von Meilenwald’s legendary career.

It’s nearly impossible for Beverast to top Exuvia, but without its first two tracks, Tempelschlaf comes damn close. It is not that the title track or “Day of the Poacher” fall short, but rather that their place in the album is to set the stage for the better pieces, complete with more abrupt tonal shifts, heightened melody, and just a bit too much chaos. That being said, von Meilenwald once again outdoes himself with an album devoted to blackened fury, monolithic doom, and otherworldly atmospheric textures, incorporating hints of the psychedelic goth rock of The Thule Grimoires in a far more streamlined capacity. Tempelschlaf is The Ruins of Beverast doing business as usual: growth, experimentation, and excellence.

Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Ván Records
Websites: theruinsofbeverast.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/the.ruins.of.beverast
Releases Worldwide: January 9th, 2026

Árstíðir lífsins – Aldrlok Review

By Twelve

Árstíðir lífsins seem to not believe much in fanfare. Since I discovered the Icelandic/German group via their very good fourth full-length Saga á tveim tungum I: Vápn ok viðr, I never learn about their releases until AFTER they show up. The followup to Saga I never reached the Angry Metal Promo Sump, and their most recent release, the enjoyable Hermalausaz, arrived quietly at the end of last year. Now they’re back with Aldrlok (“Death [of an age]”), their sixth full-length release, which follows the band’s familiar vein of mountainous black metal adorned with gorgeous folk passages and lyrics sung in Old Norse-Icelandic. It’s a super-potent combo, and these guys have the smarts to back up their premise, so how does that translate into eighty-three minutes of music?

Compared with recent releases, Aldrlok is familiar territory. This time around, the riffs feel heavier (“Stormr, hvítundit grand gundar gjálfrs”) and the orchestrations are more elaborate (“Er faðir kulda ok myrkrs hopar fyrir endalausum vegi Ránar”), creating a strong melodic black metal feel for the album. Of course, it’s as folky as ever, in that Old Norse sort of way that Árstíðir lífsins excel at. Marsél, credited as ever as the band’s storyteller, provides deep, intoning singing, guttural narrations (to superb effect on “Nú er lengstu miskunndir dalreyðar ná hátindi”), and vicious black metal rasps, while frequent acoustic and orchestral passages break up the black metal assaults provided by Stefán (guitars and bass) and Árni (percussion and string instruments) (both of whom also provide vocals). The sound is elaborate, dense, and well done. Aldrlok is the sound of a band that knows exactly what they are doing.

This also means that the strongest and coolest element of Aldrlok is the storytelling. The album tells a tale semi-mythological fiction, taking place in Iceland around 1040, during a period of societal upheaval, and borrows material from Skaldic and Eddic poetry. Through their music, Árstíðir lífsins transport the listener back in time. The album opener, “Hvítir hjǫrvar Heimdalls aldraðra fjallgylða,” takes the listener on a journey, opening slowly with deep chants that make way for passages of solemn vocal melody that evoke a great tale about to begin. When the black metal arrives, it does so climactically, being built up to grandiosity by a band that is more than happy to take its time. From here, the song—and indeed, the album—does a great job of balancing black metal, melody, and folk. “Nauð greyprs élreka” does the best job of striking this balance. A band with a keyboardist could certainly mimic the style, but Aldrlok asks: “why do with a keyboard what you could do with your own voices?” Suitably, the close of the song, where massive black metal riffing gives way to solemn, near-reverent chanting, is one of the best moments, not only on this album but on any Árstíðir lífsins release to date.

Of course, some will be put off by the lengths of both the individual songs on Aldrlok and the length of the whole. Nine songs covering eighty-three minutes is a lot of music. I do wish the mix and production favored the metal elements more, as they tend to be muted. I’m sure it’s a stylistic choice, but it’s hard not to think that more prominence for the drumming and a touch less distortion on the guitars could net a really heavy album in the vein of a contemporary like Mistur. On the other hand, the grand length of the album contributes to its “Norse epic” feel, emulating the poetry it’s based on. The long songs that often flow into one another create the feeling of a mythology told in two parts (“Nú er lengstu miskunndir dalreyðar ná hátindi” breaks up the album expertly, and is a terrific dark folk song), and while it is a lot to take in all at once, there aren’t any actual weak spots on Aldrlok.

Árstíðir lífsins are consistently releasing interesting, well-researched, and very good black metal. I would argue that Aldrlok is their strongest yet, but it will be very familiar to you if you’re a fan of their recent work. It takes you back into the past in a way that most art struggles to do, and continues to fill a unique space in the world of metal. It demands a certain mood, but if you’re in it, this album will bring you back in time.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ván Records
Websites: arstidirlifsins.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/arstidirlifsins
Releases Worldwide: May 31st, 2024

#2024 #35 #Aldrlok #ArstidirLifsins #BlackMetal #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #IcelandicMetal #May24 #Mistur #Review #Reviews #VanRecords

Árstíðir lífsins – Aldrlok Review

By Twelve

Árstíðir lífsins seem to not believe much in fanfare. Since I discovered the Icelandic/German group via their very good fourth full-length Saga á tveim tungum I: Vápn ok viðr, I never learn about their releases until AFTER they show up. The followup to Saga I never reached the Angry Metal Promo Sump, and their most recent release, the enjoyable Hermalausaz, arrived quietly at the end of last year. Now they’re back with Aldrlok (“Death [of an age]”), their sixth full-length release, which follows the band’s familiar vein of mountainous black metal adorned with gorgeous folk passages and lyrics sung in Old Norse-Icelandic. It’s a super-potent combo, and these guys have the smarts to back up their premise, so how does that translate into eighty-three minutes of music?

Compared with recent releases, Aldrlok is familiar territory. This time around, the riffs feel heavier (“Stormr, hvítundit grand gundar gjálfrs”) and the orchestrations are more elaborate (“Er faðir kulda ok myrkrs hopar fyrir endalausum vegi Ránar”), creating a strong melodic black metal feel for the album. Of course, it’s as folky as ever, in that Old Norse sort of way that Árstíðir lífsins excel at. Marsél, credited as ever as the band’s storyteller, provides deep, intoning singing, guttural narrations (to superb effect on “Nú er lengstu miskunndir dalreyðar ná hátindi”), and vicious black metal rasps, while frequent acoustic and orchestral passages break up the black metal assaults provided by Stefán (guitars and bass) and Árni (percussion and string instruments) (both of whom also provide vocals). The sound is elaborate, dense, and well done. Aldrlok is the sound of a band that knows exactly what they are doing.

This also means that the strongest and coolest element of Aldrlok is the storytelling. The album tells a tale semi-mythological fiction, taking place in Iceland around 1040, during a period of societal upheaval, and borrows material from Skaldic and Eddic poetry. Through their music, Árstíðir lífsins transport the listener back in time. The album opener, “Hvítir hjǫrvar Heimdalls aldraðra fjallgylða,” takes the listener on a journey, opening slowly with deep chants that make way for passages of solemn vocal melody that evoke a great tale about to begin. When the black metal arrives, it does so climactically, being built up to grandiosity by a band that is more than happy to take its time. From here, the song—and indeed, the album—does a great job of balancing black metal, melody, and folk. “Nauð greyprs élreka” does the best job of striking this balance. A band with a keyboardist could certainly mimic the style, but Aldrlok asks: “why do with a keyboard what you could do with your own voices?” Suitably, the close of the song, where massive black metal riffing gives way to solemn, near-reverent chanting, is one of the best moments, not only on this album but on any Árstíðir lífsins release to date.

Of course, some will be put off by the lengths of both the individual songs on Aldrlok and the length of the whole. Nine songs covering eighty-three minutes is a lot of music. I do wish the mix and production favored the metal elements more, as they tend to be muted. I’m sure it’s a stylistic choice, but it’s hard not to think that more prominence for the drumming and a touch less distortion on the guitars could net a really heavy album in the vein of a contemporary like Mistur. On the other hand, the grand length of the album contributes to its “Norse epic” feel, emulating the poetry it’s based on. The long songs that often flow into one another create the feeling of a mythology told in two parts (“Nú er lengstu miskunndir dalreyðar ná hátindi” breaks up the album expertly, and is a terrific dark folk song), and while it is a lot to take in all at once, there aren’t any actual weak spots on Aldrlok.

Árstíðir lífsins are consistently releasing interesting, well-researched, and very good black metal. I would argue that Aldrlok is their strongest yet, but it will be very familiar to you if you’re a fan of their recent work. It takes you back into the past in a way that most art struggles to do, and continues to fill a unique space in the world of metal. It demands a certain mood, but if you’re in it, this album will bring you back in time.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Ván Records
Websites: arstidirlifsins.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/arstidirlifsins
Releases Worldwide: May 31st, 2024

#2024 #35 #Aldrlok #ArstidirLifsins #BlackMetal #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #IcelandicMetal #May24 #Mistur #Review #Reviews #VanRecords

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