Vintersorg
Till Fjälls

Vintersorg, this strange guy who wanders in the most avant-garde environments of Black and Folk, is a genius who has demonstrated over the years, and with his multifaceted and varied career, how much it pays to be endowed with flair and talent that sets one apart even while being part of it, from certain themes where, among the multitude of bands and different projects, it always seems like hearing the same old reheated dish, finding nothing original in the end.

Affable charmer, first in love, at the time of this album, with the culture and barbaric yet profound folklore of his land (Sweden), then with the science fiction, physical, and metaphysical themes of the elements, he has always proven courageous in wanting to tread paths that others would never have dreamed of even grazing upon. This "Till Fjälls" is the work that will lead him towards epic terrains heavily imbued with Folk, which later decreed his fortune, earning him prestigious and increasingly successful collaborations: Borknagar above all, but also Otyg and Cronian among others. And it cannot be said that they are undeserved, given the extrinsic and intrinsic value this album has had over the years and for so many bands that subsequently decided to dedicate themselves to this genre so particular yet so deeply felt.

The CD, which has a base always present or perceptible in well-executed and masterfully conceived Black, often and willingly deviates (let's say "always" not to be wrong) into territories with strong cultural tints and "connections," as mentioned above, with the artist's land of origin. And it is immediately noticeable: all the songs are sung in the native language, the lyrics speak of senses of honor and of historical Norse complexes, and the traces of pride in belonging to a lineage of warriors are evident and precise in every groove; starting from the theatrical and almost intimate "Rundans", a semi-epic ballad that serves as an interlude to the backbone of the work, dictated first by a Black attack and then resized on a powerful and impactful base as "För Kung och Fosterland" ("for the King and the Motherland"). Stylistically, the song is a continuous taking and leaving a path compared to another, with, more or less at its center, a delightful and decidedly "strange" yet ingenious nugget, which is the reference to Edward Grieg's "Hall of the Mountain King". And the extraordinary features of the work are already well outlined and continuous, making it immediately clear to the listener that this is an album of "sensations" and "impressions", where the snowy peaks of the cover, the ice perceived in certain passages, the long, cold nights, the smell of blood, are an inseparable element of certain people's DNA. Moving forward, one is struck by Vintersorg's baritonal singing, his intelligence, and originality, his dialogues with nature, and the extraordinary yet restless power of the musical lines (almost all of which are the work of the same artist, here in the roles of multi-instrumentalist, arranger, and producer). And so, letting oneself be drawn in by "Vildmarkens Förtrollande Stämmor" with its incessant Heavy Folk hammering, or by the same "Till Fjälls" ("towards the mountains"), a track more linked to Black-epic styles, is a true relentless pleasure. No boredom, no botched blows, but infinite and fascinating climbs on the icy peaks of the Baltic chain, without light nor hope, alone with the company of snow whipping the face and the cawing of mountain birds of prey. The outcome, allow me to say, is literally stunning, for those who love this kind of things. Adding to its merits, "Urberget, Äldst Av Troner" and "Hednad I Ulvermånens Tecken" trace, with melancholic sincerity, the elusive and fleeting boundaries of the valleys that cross the dizzying Scandinavian heights, and the calls to the paganism of origin, now forgotten. And here, if there was still any need for it (and assuming the examples brought thus far were not enough for you), nothing can be indifferent, except perhaps the tedious and useless ordinary woes; woes that are brutally buried and disparaged in the subsequent, super-aggressive "Jökeln", with its constant bouncing between violent and fierce sonic assaults, ferocious screams, and cruel and ruthless choirs, which balance the melodic yet distressing slowdowns of the interludes. From here on, the register changes, and the more delicate and precious parts of Vintersorg, as well as the more gothic and decadent ones, reign supreme, starting with "Isjungfrun", where the singer duets with a seductive and fascinating female voice (that of Cia Hedmark, violinist and member for a time of the very same Otyg), creating an interesting and refined hybrid that nonetheless encompasses sensational parts dedicated to the roughness and character of the people inhabiting those harsh and unreachable places of which the artist is part. Then "Asatider" and "Fångad Utav Nordens Själ" close the work, and amid the lapping of clear waters, among the screams of women and children felled by battle, find room for death, the honor of battle, the wind of the end that invests everything and sweeps everything away; and it will not be a fortunate coincidence if, one evening, you find yourself dreaming of warriors riding the stars of the sky, of Hugin and Munin, Odin's crows, who will forewarn the Ragnarök and the beginning of a new era.