Faþir

The cycle of life and nature is a precious and wondrous thing. We are born. We learn. We live. We die. And after death, another life awaits. When the world succumbs to the cold and dark grasp of winter, the promise of a spring birthing everything anew keeps hope alive. Such is the journey we make, and such is the lifespan of "Faþir". Heaving, pulsating, filled with contrasts. Ardent hostility and fiery revenge, blossoming life and lush fertility, soul-wrenching grief and deep anguish. Such is the path we walk, under the guidance of the deities. The helping hand of a father. The nurturing wisdom in times of need. But, sometimes, a treacherous god who leads us into death and despair - albeit always with an underlying purpose. Such is "Faþir".

With eloquence, elegance and emotion, L. Swärd has created another monolith of sublime art to add to Forndom's impeccable discography. This highly awaited follow-up to 2016's "Dauðra Dura" is nothing short of a modern masterpiece, rooted in ancient ways. The expressive vocals and strings soar on top of a foundation of unyielding drums, like spirits dancing in the skies yet connected to the human pulse. Never surrendering the strong connection to our mortal world, there is a deeply sacred dimension to "Faþir". A glimpse of the divine, seen through a lens of devotion and veracity. The joining of death and life, if you will.

The thick atmospheres and vast inner landscapes Forndom creates are more prevalent than ever, and from the first trembling string introduction of "Jakten" to the last wistful beat of "Hemkomst", one is transported to another time, another place, and another mindset, leaving behind the calamity, stress and superficiality of the modern world and finding anew the lost wisdom hidden by the veil of years passed. Who needs movies when you can listen to "Faþir"?