Nechochwen – Spelewithiipi Review

By Killjoy

It can be healthy for artists to periodically take time to reset and remember what first compelled them to start creating music. Aaron Carey originally founded Nechochwen in West Virginia as an unostentatious acoustic guitar project paying homage to his Native American lineage. It didn’t take long for black metal influence to emerge and with the addition of Andrew D’Cagna as the rhythm section, the two styles proved a potent pairing to explore the cultural history sewn into every note. 2015’s Heart of Akamon was well-received in the metal community and by our Vice Overlord Steel Druhm, who later went on to underrate their very good1 follow-up Kanawha Black. During all this time,2 Nechochwen had been quietly working on Spelewithiipi, a fully instrumental acoustic folk album akin to their debut full-length Algonkian Mythos. Can Nechochwen come full circle and revisit an older style without feeling like a step backward?

Nechochwen was always more inclined to reach for an acoustic guitar than an electric, but Spelewithiipi takes it a step further. Carey’s multi-tracked acoustic guitars enjoy near total exclusivity, plucking and strumming along like a bolder variation of older (and newer) October Falls. This is something of a double-edged sword—there is little to distract from the graceful guitar melodies, but the emotive burden of proof falling solely upon one instrument can be a challenging songwriting prospect. This may be why similar-minded neofolk albums from Thurnin and Wÿntër Ärvń in recent months opted to diversify with various other folk instrumentation, and Spelewithiipi follows suit, albeit sparingly. Here and there, indigenous drum beats (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi,” “Primordial Passage”), a full drum kit (“Precipice of Stone”), and a gentle flute (“Lenawe’owiin,” “Spelewithiipi”) provide embellishment. This pared-back instrumentation is an important part of Spelewithiipi’s reverent, intimate nature.

At this point in his career, Carey can wring seemingly every ounce of breadth and depth from his weapon of choice. The acoustic guitar lines, usually appearing in pairs, flow and breathe as they fluctuate in intensity and complexity. Sometimes they’re straightforward, with clear lead and rhythm roles (“Nemacolin’s Path,” “Spelewithiipi”). Elsewhere, Nechochwen weaves multiple distinct melodies together into a more elegant soundscape (“Tpwiiwe,” “Precipice of Stone”). Unsurprisingly, the music is intrinsically bonded with nature, the rain sounds in “Othaškwa’alowethi behme” adding a mystical effect to the stream of twanging guitar notes. The best and most passionate performance lies in “Mthothwathiipi,” which features a gentle, cascading tune that gives way to vigorous fingerpicking laced with percussive slaps. The immense skill on display almost convinces me that Nechochwen might be better off in this unplugged realm.

Almost. Like a phantom limb, I find it impossible not to miss Nechochwen’s black metal side. In my view, their appeal mainly stemmed from the meticulous melding of acoustic folk with metal, not either component taken individually. Therefore, an attempt to decouple them was, perhaps, destined to yield a diminished result. Even setting aside genre preferences, Spelewithiipi lacks much of the structure and focus from when Nechochwen were grounded in black metal conventions. The first half of the record fares better thanks to more developed melodies, whereas the back half feels more barren and aimless (particularly “Primordial Passage”), but nearly every song suffers to some extent from rocky transitions or promising ideas cut short. With fewer musical handholds on Spelewithiipi, the overall songwriting needed to be more coherent and engaging to make up the difference.

Spelewithiipi is not an immediate album; it invites rather than seizes the listener’s attention. Accordingly, fans of Nechochwen’s recent work will likely need to manage expectations and exercise patience. As I spent time with it and let go of what I wanted to hear from Nechochwen, I gained greater appreciation of what they created. Aaron Carey plays heartfelt, stirring acoustic guitar lines the likes of which I’ve never heard before, and I’m in awe of his instrumental mastery. Yet, even the best guitarwork on Spelewithiipi is not quite as captivating as that of Heart of Akamon or Kanawha Black. This, plus the relinquishment of metal influence and its short 31-minute runtime, make it hard to see Spelewithiipi as a complete Nechochwen record. But, even so, this is still a pleasant walk through the woods worth taking.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 13 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Nordvis Produktion
Websites: nechochwen-nordvis.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/nechochwen
Releases Worldwide: May 9th, 2025

#2025 #30 #AmericanMetal #DarkFolk #DarkNeofolk #Folk #Instrumental #May25 #Nechochwen #NordvisProduktion #NotMetal #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #Spelewithiipi #Thurnin #WÿntërÄrvń

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

By Twelve

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#NowPlaying #FullAlbum

I've now played 85 hours of Divinity: Original Sin 2... still not finished, but what a great game! But also 85 hours in which I didn't listen to any music outside the game. Starting my Saturday with some relaxing instrumental acoustic dark folk by atmospheric black metal/neofolk band October Falls from Finland.

Marras by October Falls, on bandcamp here:
https://octoberfalls.bandcamp.com/album/marras-album

#Music #DarkFolk #Acoustic #Instrumental #OctoberFalls

Grylle – Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards Review

By Twelve

I like Antiq Records. Generally, their albums tread the line between different, powerful, and weird very nicely, so it’s always a treat when one of their new releases happens by the Angry Metal Offices. It should come as no surprise that I’m a fan of Hyvermor. He’s the co-owner of the label and has been a part of several projects that I love—Hanternoz, Véhémence, and Grylle, to name a few. Grylle is perhaps the least “metal” of the three1, and also the folkiest, leaning fully into the medieval themes that serve Hyvermor and Antiq Records so well. Boasting an impressive lineup of guest musicians on all kinds of fun instruments, Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is the third full-length release from Gylle, and is, as per usual, a treat to explore.

Now, when I say an impressive lineup of guest musicians on all kinds of fun instruments, I mean it. Apart from bass and drums by KK and Cadavre respectively, there are no fewer than seven guest musicians on Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards, whose contributions include a small horn section, citole, bagpipes, flutes, a hurdy gurdy, and something called a mandocello. As a result, Grylle’s music feels more multifaceted than it ever has before. More than previous records, Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is a black metal album firmly entrenched in medieval and folk themes, with one major difference—nearly all of the leads are performed by what I believe is the mandocello. Nearly all of the tremolo leads are acoustic, and even the distorted guitars are medieval instruments, though those are distorted enough to resemble the electric instruments of today. The result is what I imagine October Falls would sound like if you made them play the metal and acoustic bits at the same time; the riffs have that slick-yet-dark edge to them, while the acoustic sections enliven and enhance.

Of course, that’s not a perfect comparison, because Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is unquestionably a folk metal album. The gorgeous brass and trumpets (Lazareth) on”Mauvais Sang” work with mandocello and (I think) psaltery to add a shining, hopeful dimension to the song, while the hurdy gurdy (Sparda, Hanternoz, and Créatures) makes “Réservement de Confortale Présence” a uniquely mournful march, evoking Apocalypse Orchestra. Hearing acoustic and stringed instruments race to keep up with a full metal outfit on “Moribond Flétri d’Orgueil” is a fascinating experience, and it makes for an entertaining and strangely uplifting tune. Throughout it all, Hyvermor’s vocals (joined occasionally by La Griesche (Tour d’Ivoire) and Sparda, chant, rasp, and shout out stories for the ages, binding together the eclectic sound in a firmly metal base.

I’m not sure if Grylle has a particular weakness, but there are a number of small things about Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards that keep me from being fully drawn in. “Grande Marche des Covidards” and “Réservement de Confortale Présence” both have nice moments musically, but give the impression of being half-finished, or containing ideas that never made it to full songs. As intro and interlude tracks, they’re easily forgettable, but without them, the album is only about half an hour. With only so much in the way of metal music, every moment has to count, and while most songs are very good—”Le Tropique du Cancer” in particular is exceptional—there are a few less exciting tracks, such as closer “La Triomphe de la Mort.” Hyvermor’s vocals are also an acquired taste; his delivery is expressive and strong but sits in an odd realm of being too strong for medieval folk and not quite dark enough for black metal. I wouldn’t say it doesn’t work, but there are moments here and there where you can imagine an alternate delivery or style suiting the song better. With that said, it is hard to blame Grylle for chasing an authentic sound, and most of the time, it works well.

Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards is a fun album and Grylle is a project to keep an eye on. This is a style of music that is familiar and new, an approach to something established that I’ve never heard before. Grylle has written and performed it extremely well. As ever, I am eager to see where medieval metal goes from here—based on Egrotants, Souffreteux, Cacochymes, Covidards, the possibilities seem endless.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Websites: grylle.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/grylleofficiel
Releases Worldwide: November 10th, 2024

#2024 #30 #AntiqRecords #ApocalypseOrchestra #BlackMetal #Créatures #EgrotantsSouffreteuxCacochymesCovidards #FolkMetal #FrenchMetal #Grylle #Hanternoz #Nov24 #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #TourDIvoire #Vehemence

Liljevars Brann – Helja Kor Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

They say that 75% of a Finnish park ranger’s job is finding black metal bands that got lost in the woods shooting album covers. Suppose the park rangers in Germany had a similar issue. In that case, I imagine they would have the hardest time finding atmospheric black metal newcomers Liljevars Brann, given how musically deep into the woods they seek to take us in their debut album Helja Kor. Written in a fictional blend of German and Norwegian languages and dubbed “mystical black metal with a folkloric edge,” is Helja Kor a strong debut that conjures grasping roots to drag you into the heart of the forest, or are these woods still too close to the parking lot?

Liljevars Brann weaves together slow-tempo black metal with winding acoustic guitar passages. It worked when heavier bands like Panopticon or Ulvik did it,1 and it works here in Helja Kor. Melancholic guitar riffs plod beneath high-pitched harmonizing guitar wails like a reborn The 3rd and the Mortal with a harsher, black metal edge, regularly interspersed with panoramic acoustic sequences. Liljevars Brann excels at folk music; the guitars have a satisfying pluck and pace that happily reminds me of Uaral. The vocals, by frontman Sjelvindur, are one of the most compelling parts of Helja Kor. His clean vocals marry a mysterious folksiness with a warbling gothic cadence, and some of the album’s best moments come from Sjelvindur’s percussive intonation in the outro of “Helja Kor” and the somber shakiness of the beginning of “Krieglande.” Between the winning combination of black metal and folk music with the added edge of Sjelvindur’s unique vocals, the components of a great album are all here.

Unfortunately, Helja Kor struggles to truly find its footing due to meandering songwriting that begins to drag early on. Low intensity is one thing, but Helja Kor is also low energy, which makes it difficult to stay engaged. From the opener “Helja Kor” to the second-to-last “Krieglande,” every song is in the same torturously slow 3/4 time signature with minimal evolution or differentiation between songs. Even the rare black metal sections of the primarily acoustic “Sjelvind” feel melodically identical to those of the more predominantly heavy “Krieglande.” A 3/4 time signature isn’t an issue by itself, but after 40 minutes of overtly similar riffs in a stagnant tempo, it’s impossible not to crave variation. That comes in, blessedly, in “Brannstjeringen,” which ends the album on a miraculously high note through dynamic songwriting in a refreshing 4/4 time signature. “Brannstjeringen” builds towards an exciting, emotionally charged apotheosis that highlights how the remainder of Helja Kor lacks meaningful direction in its song structure, devoid of stirring peaks that move me like “Brannstjeringen” does.

Helja Kor touts a mystical, woodsy atmosphere, and this atmosphere is strong enough to partly compensate for what the songwriting lacks. The folk guitars are effectively paired with Sjelvindur’s vocals, and they just ooze arboreal mysticism. It’s a shame that an excess of melodic/harmonic repetition and languid structure permeate Helja Kor, because by themselves, the guitar harmonies in “Dansa Mej Brodar I Fyre” and “Krieglande” are enjoyable. It boggles the mind, then, how much the drums clash with Helja Kor’s atmosphere through a distracting mix that fails to effectively integrate them. The strength of Liljevars Brann’s acoustics is frequently undone in “Helja Kor,” “Dansa Mej Brodar I Fyre,” and “Sjelvind” by the incessant ting-ting-ting of the cymbals. Even towards the end of “Brannstjeringen,” the drums leave a stain on the song’s highest point with loud, off-tempo blast beats. It’s clear that Liljevars Brann has put a lot of thought into the unique atmosphere they want to create, but it unravels at almost every turn through songwriting that doesn’t support it and a mix that dilutes it.

Helja Kor is the type of record where it’s easier to appreciate what Liljevars Brann is trying to do than enjoy its execution. There are glimpses of a compelling folkloric atmosphere to be found, but Helja Kor flounders in excessive repetition, frequently dissatisfying structure, and irritating production choices. And yet, I abhor the thought of abandoning Liljevars Brann for good because there is a real vision here, and I want to see it realized. Helja Kor has enough individually solid aspects—Sjelvindur’s vocals, the Uaral-esque acoustics, the black metal harmonies, the peaks of “Brannstjeringen”—to compel me to keep my eye on Liljevars Brann in hopes that their next release finds me more lost in the woods than a mere park ranger can handle.

Rating: Disappointing
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s CBR MP3
Label: Argonauta Records
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: September 27th, 2024

#20 #2024 #ArgonautaRecords #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BlackFolkMetal #BlackMetal #GermanMetal #HeljaKor #LiljevarsBrann #OctoberFalls #OctopusRising #Panopticon #Sep24 #The3rdAndTheMortal #Uaral #Ulver #Ulvik

Vanessa Funke – Void Review

By Dr. A.N. Grier

I love it when a rando intrigues my old bones and half-deaf ears. Especially after so many years at AMG and so many damn reviews. But even with all my years of metal knowledge and undeniable musical taste,1 even I can be surprised by something that floats to the top of the pit. After seeing nothing of interest for a July 12th release date, I summoned Leviathan to tread the waters and bring forth something that would possess me and give my arthritic hands the strength to write. What that majestic creature brought up to the shore was the third full-length album from Vanessa Funke. This one-person band has been around for some time, releasing albums, singles, and splits, and yet has remained hidden by all those who’ve secured large label deals. But, for better or worse, her promo for Void has made it into the hands of grumpy, ole Grier.

After exploring Vanessa Funke’s previous material, one thing is apparent: Funke is an incredible instrumentalist, from clean and acoustic guitars to distorted ones, piano, and keys. Incorporating folk with melodic death and atmospheric black metal, her songwriting appears to have no limitations. For instance, after combining all these elements in an Alcestian way (including vicious rasps and distant cleans) on the debut record, Solitude, Funke completely changed course for last year’s Dawn. With only two songs in forty minutes, Dawn explores similar territories to October Falls’ brilliant acoustic compilation, Kaarna. Mostly instrumental, Funke shows off some impressive skills on the acoustic guitar and piano to paint a beautiful tapestry of blissful nature. Now, she’s back with perhaps the heaviest and most intricate record she’s ever created.

The back-to-back opening tracks roll into one another to introduce Void. “The First Word” begins with acoustic guitars, piano, and low whispers before the distortion introduces the atmoblack elements. It alternates between calming sections and a chugging riff on the back half before handing the baton to “Broken Ground.” With this track, the album gains steam as the guitar and key solos push this ditty to a climax of distant, overlapping clean/rasping vocals. When we arrive at “Infelicity,” the intensity increases ten-fold as Funke reaches for other influences. After opening with the standard acoustic guitars and soft vocals, the song transitions to a Insomnium-inspired melodeath charge that shows the diversity and power provided by the guitars, drums, and gnarly growls. But this eight-plus-minute track becomes more interesting when we pass through a Dark Tranquillity-like riff and vocal approach before closing with the crushing machine-gun fire of the guitars and drums—making this track the most rounded and pleasing of the bunch.

Other highlights are “Blood on My Hands” and the closer, “Closing the Book.” These two tracks are the black sheep of the album, showing another twist in Vanessa Funke’s approach and making it difficult to tie it to even a couple of genres. “Blood on My Hands” is cool because of its tone, using a muddled distortion for the guitars and vocals. Not to mention the completely unexpected midpoint where you’re hit square in the face with a trumpet lead. Throughout, that nifty distortion remains, giving the song a unique character compared to the rest of the tracks. “Closing the Book” is special because Funke invites the Rinke brothers from Germany’s melodeath outfit, Storm Unleashed. Magnus Rinke lends some clean vocals to pair with Funke’s, while Lukas Rinke contributes some flugelhorn to this beautiful track. Marcus’ part is gorgeous, giving off some While Heaven Wept vibes that work beautifully on a Funke song.

I can hear it already (and have already from other staffers), you don’t like Funke’s distant clean vocals. Get over it. It’s traditional to the style and with hopeful passages like those in “The Funeral” and “Closing the Book,” there are a lot of Alcestisms where it works. That said, the vocals were more dominant in Solitude, which I prefer. Funke’s guitar, bass, drums, and piano skills are impressive, and the stories the instruments tell deserve their limelight. The major downfall of an album with over an hour of material is when song introductions are predictable. Solitude was similar, but it had enough variation when introducing songs that I didn’t notice it so much. Regardless of the song, you’re sure to get clean/acoustic guitars and piano to kick things off, where the real differences between the songs come later. Once you experience Void, you’ll also wish for better dynamics to capture the performances even more. None of these criticisms cripple the album by any means because this band is an underappreciated treasure for those who like moods, impressive guitar work, and albums you can lose yourself in.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: WAV
Label: Liminal Dread Productions
Website: vanessafunke.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: July 12th, 2024

#2024 #35 #Alcest #AtmosphericBlackMetal #DarkTranquillity #FolkMetal #GermanMetal #Insomnium #Jul24 #LiminalDreadProductions #MelodicDeathMetal #OctoberFalls #Review #Reviews #StormUnleashed #VanessaFunke #Vøid #WhileHeavenWept