Solstafir
I Blodi Og Anda

THE REVIEW

Finally, in 2002, after years spent in the darkness of a genre that inherently relegates most of its authors to a rather unenviable condition, played in this case with a completely unique style, Ars Metalli decided to bring to light one of the most innovative and alternative black-viking works in the now sleepy and depressingly empty scene of genuine extreme metal.

Solstafir, hailing from Iceland, having absorbed the entire icy and dark black imprint, and having a decent repertoire of demos and minis that I won't list here, express themselves without reservation, in search of something beyond common imagination and normal knowledge: an album sung three-quarters in Icelandic, with rhythms and fingerprints almost not at all hybridized with those of the "common" world, can only evoke a sharp surprise and unparalleled charm.

To the listener’s ears, the first thing that stands out is the extreme speed and roughness of the riffs by one Saethor Marius Saethorsson (I apologize for the unreproducibility of special characters of the Icelandic language…), and the voice of Adalbjorn Tryggvason, a true piercing scream, disturbing, apparently senseless... I admit it's hard to get used to it, but with a bit of patience, one can begin to appreciate the immeasurable dose of malice initially confined in the cold, and then finally released in the Radiant Rays of the Sun (no, it’s not my idea, but the translation of the band’s name, and what they themselves have claimed about their very particular sound…) that the singer’s vocal cords manage to transmit with surprising directness...

It's impossible here to conduct a track-by-track analysis, as I find it much more appropriate to give a general definition of the album and its lividly atmospheric but no less brutal character.

The tracks that definitely lend themselves best to this description are "The Underworld Song", an almost instrumental piece highly dramatic, with an apparently softer opening, but in which Tryggvason's vocal tone becomes even more paroxysmal in his screams; "2000 Ar", where that cold and darkness I spoke of are fully revealed, both in the slow and atmospheric suite and in the umpteenth display of energy that Tryggvason does not spare; "Bitch in Black", which, beyond the dubious meaning of the title, turns out to be a sort of ballad, a love song of high artistic value, almost as if it were one of the sagas of Sturluson, where it is impossible not to appreciate the qualities of the clean singing of someone who up until now has battered our eardrums, or of his excellent growl, measured, deep, full; and finally, the fantastic almost-ambient "I Viking", no less legendary and Nordic, where I leave to you a personal comment and interpretation, finding it impossible to provide reasons for a personalistic impression.

Not an unmissable work, therefore, but a high example of neo-viking coming from a land unknown or almost to ordinary mortals. Congratulations, therefore, to the two members already mentioned, to the drummer Svavar Austman, and to the bassist Oli Palmason.