Fyrnask - VII - Kenoma (2021)^{Release ID: 28493}

If proof was needed on the occasional success of music streaming service recommendations, then my discovery of Fyrnask’s fourth full-length release is testimony to the random brilliance that algorithms can throw up. The timing of this find is perfect as I have spent much time in recent months trying to rationalise the place that music (namely metal of course) has in my life alongside all the intensity and relentless pace and pressure of work, as well as the general tumult of life. In doing so, I have found the need for me to truly immerse myself in a record to truly reach the level of escapism required to isolate myself from the routine in which I find myself rolling through on most days. That sentence may sound a little too deep, but I think it sets the tone nicely for my explanation of this album and the relevance of it to that mindset I have alluded to.

 VII-Kenoma is an album I feel I can unburden myself with (and perhaps into also). It feels like that escape, a safe place that I can truly become embroiled in. There is an emotional response to most of what the band share on this album and that reaction feels instinctive and at times mandatory. It is not that there is any overwhelming sense of sadness, sorrow or melancholy (even though those things are most definitely present). Indeed, I find that I am not caught on individual parts of the record or tracks. What resonates so well is that the album has a completeness to it as it uses the atmospheres so well to frame whatever feeling I am getting from a track or a particular passage within a track. Nothing feels like it has not been accounted for, like every component to the music is considered essential to the success of the whole.

Whether it is the cavernous vocals that sound almost buried behind lush and rich riffs that create walls of sublimely menacing melodies, or even the choral elements that embed a sense of unholy communion and belonging to something dark and mysterious, VII-Kenoma is a real exploration of sound and texture. The compelling desperation behind the pacing does not lead to unrestrained gushing however and for all the many angles being presented here there is a real understanding of control eminent in the song writing. I believe it is the ritualistic nature of the songs that embed this control, the sense that each track must happen that way to complete the individual parts of the ceremony being performed.

The keening horns at the start of Nidhamykur sound like an orc army’s assembly call, filled with wailing grief for those who will inevitably fall in the ensuing battle as layers of riffs fall over the track. The vocals end up sounding lost and empty as they are decried in the face of unending futility. The dark choral beauty of final track Blótguð are haunting and alluring like some gathering of sirens designed to keep you listening long after the track itself has finished playing.

Since starting to draft this review I have managed to visit bits of the entire Fyrnask discography, and this album represents the zenith of their talents. The rest of the material sounds like a band looking for a direction and being unafraid to push at boundaries to find their path. The reason why VII-Kenoma works so well in comparison is because they set out a clear desire early on to tread a darkly emotive path that sees a careful eye for quality being deployed so that no element detracts from the ethos the band chose to go with.