Forseti
Erde

Andreas Ritter is the one who played the accordion for Douglas P. in "All Pigs Must Die," and to this, we probably owe the recognition of his Forseti. Success, of course, well-deserved since Forseti, along with compatriots Orplid and Sonne Hagal, are the pinnacle of today's Teutonic neo-folk scene. However, one should not think of apocalyptic folk in the strict sense, but rather of a classical folk that shares nothing with the dark scene other than its gloomy moods and introspective gaze.

"Erde," from 2004, is Forseti's second full-length: acclaimed loudly by almost all industry insiders, even though it's nothing sensational, it's indeed a good work. A work that will undoubtedly delight lovers of Nordic folk in its most mythical and atavistic form: sung strictly in German, permeated by melancholic and fantastic atmospheres, it represents the perfect meeting between the decadent spleen of intimate songwriting and the soaring flights of folk, lively and poignant at the same time, painting ancestral scenarios, propitiatory dances, the melancholy of a winter landscape.

Andreas Ritter, a respectable multi-instrumentalist, handles guitars, accordions, and percussion quite well. A little less in singing, which is certainly inspired but somewhat monotonous. Assisting him are friends and acquaintances called to lend their talents—some on violin, some on cello, some on flute, some on voice. Noteworthy is the presence of Uwe Nolte (from the aforementioned Orplid) and Kim Larsen (directly from Of the Wand and the Moon). The standout name, however, is Ian Read (Fire + Ice), another glory of apocalyptic folk who, after Douglas P.'s cameo in the debut "Windzeit," renews the tradition of luxury guests called to parade at Forseti's home. Precisely the pagan folk of Fire + Ice is the closest reference to understand Forseti's music, and it is no coincidence that the song sung by Read, "Empfindsamkeit," is among the most beautiful on the album.

The album divides between ballads evoking autumns and winters of distant epochs and pressing tracks that betray a certain love for a more rustic and festive folk. Because unlike the music of other minstrels of the End, Forseti's music is not a macabre excursion filled with dark omens aimed at conveying one's discomfort to the entire universe. Forseti's music is in a sense neutral, neutral like the blind forces of Nature, capturing from it the beauty, melancholy, poetry.
Forseti's music, driven by a sincere pagan love for Nature, is actually a regression to a happy era in which humans lived in full symbiosis with it, which through this music becomes part of us again, or rather we return to belong to Her, a mirror of our soul. Music that aspires to a panicked annulment within the vastness of the landscape, in the spirit of the beloved places, in the moods of a time now lost.

A pleasant confirmation, this "Erde," which presents us with an inspired and mature artist, able to move with ease, imagination, and class within the limited confines the genre imposes. But also a step forward compared to "Windzeit": finally emancipated from apocalyptic folk in its grayest and most monolithic form, Ritter ends up crafting eleven jewels that demonstrate greater compositional maturity and undeniable artistic growth. The compositions, better structured and arranged than in the past, flow simply but dynamically, rich in nuances and embellished by the contributions of various guests.

How not to mention, for example, the captivating opening track "Korn," a lively and thrilling piece where violin and cello intertwine in chilling melodies, later picked up by the flute, while Ritter's voice swirls in unison with that of Sabine Frost (and indeed the introduction of female voices is one of the main novelties of this album). These are followed by pearls of elegance, of humble and refined simplicity, where Ritter's guitar and accordion guide us: the calm revisitation of "Eismahd," directly taken from the repertoire of friends Sonne Hagal; the vigorous "Lichterflug," embellished by Melanie Kohler's singing; the powerful "Erdennacht," driven by the restless rasping of the cello and hand percussion; the melancholic acoustic evolutions of "Dunkelheit," listening to which will seem like walking on the dark blanket of dense clouds that threaten a storm.

The entire album is a succession of visions, sensations, fragrances: the resin of pines, the smell of bark, the coolness of dew on the skin. "Erde" is able to embrace the enormity of entire landscapes, the secrets of dark forests in which to lose oneself, the depth of water mirrors in which to find oneself again. But also majestic sunsets, dreamlike mists, glimpses of pink light on a dark background: because Ritter's secret perhaps lies in having found the invisible path that leads from the Soul to Nature. Or vice versa.

"Sterne," sung by a mysterious Kim Larsen, momentarily interrupts the sparkling interplay of elements, bringing us back to the monolithic sound of his Of Wand and the Moon, and almost we seem to hear Death in June. It will be the festive accordion and percussion of "Der Graue Konig" that bring us back to the wild dances between Man and Nature. Thus we reach the incredible final triptych: "Schmerzen" is another poignant duet with Melanie Kohler that brings the album back to an intimate and introspective dimension. "Muder Wander", on the other hand, is animated by the evocative singing of Uwe Nolte, and it too stands out among the most beautiful moments of this "Erde." But what is probably the true peak of the work is the closing track "Das Abendland," an epic ride that can only move us in the irresistible final crescendo, when our bodies are driven by hand tambourines, when our minds are drawn by the splendid violin solo, when our hearts are carried away by Odin-like choirs that blow like the cold northern winds.

"Erde": for those who after winter would like another autumn, and then a winter, and then another autumn again...