Vansind – Mørket
Release Date: 17th November 2022
Label: Mighty Music
Bandcamp
Genre: Folk Metal
FFO: Svartsot, Trold, Vanir, Manegarm.
Review By: Kira L. Schlechter
The first time I heard Manegarm, I was hooked. And the first time I heard Denmark’s Vansind – as I just did on their debut full-length album, “Morket” – I was equally hooked. The level of excellence in their blend of folk metal is on a par with the Swedish masters.
The band is singers J. Asgaard (he of the growls) and Line Burglin (she of the magical clean singing), guitarist Kirk Backarach, bassist Mikael Christensen, keyboardist Rikke Klint Johansen (who also plays tin whistles and bagpipes), and drummer Danni Lyse Jelsgaard. It draws its members from the bands Panzerchrist, Iron Fire, Vanir, Detest, and Mindmare.
Vansind has been together since just 2019 and released an EP in 2021. The lyrics, all in their native tongue, are inspired by, as the bio says, “the darker side of Nordic mythology and Scandinavian history.”
And a more solid and professional first effort – loaded with terrific songs and performances – you’d be hard-pressed to find.
The very short introduction “Den Store Ask” (“The Big Ash”; all translations are as accurate as I can get them) is J’s chanting spoken voice and Line’s low wordless croon, set to a chilling monotonic drone and a single drumbeat.
Opening track “Grib Til Vaben” (“Take Up Arms”) is powered by an irresistible blend of piping, a lilting, swinging groove, and punching, assertive guitar riffing. J’s growled lyrics in the verses are suitably gruff and guttural, but they’re also clearly mixed and separated. Later, Line’s voice cuts like a crystalline blade in the chorus, holding its own amidst the heaviness. The guitar solo is straightforward, a take on the main melody; the bridge is quieter, intentionally undermixed, leading into a blast beat segment and an elongated tempo. The transition back into the main groove and a final verse and chorus is effortless in this tight, well-constructed piece.
Rikke’s tin whistle provides the compelling melody of the wonderful “Blodmosen” (“The Bog”), while Danni’s drumming boots it sprightly along. Mikael’s absolutely fabulous bass line builds tension before the first verse, which features J’s growling and Kirk’s guitar spitting in angry commentary alongside him. Line’s wordless singing in the background adds texture and drama to the chorus, although I wish she were a bit more audible in the mix. She does get her turn, though, in the bridge, which seems like a turning point in the action – it dies away to whistles and what sounds like cello and low-end guitar. Kirk then delivers a slow, luscious, heart-rending guitar solo before the main theme and another verse and chorus segment begins anew. Line’s bridge part returns; she does it twice, the band adding a wicked fast blast beat the second go-round, before that beginning swing and whistle part brings it to a close. Such a great song.
It only gets better with “For Dygen Grir” (“For the Day is Crying”). This time, drums and bass give us the groove before whistles and guitars take over with the melody, playing it in unison. Line is at the lead here; she’s sparse and open, with a little cry in her voice, before J comes in and her singing becomes wordless accompaniment. The two take turns like this, interspersed by the opening whistle and guitar section, throughout, including into the bridge. Vansind is skilled at tempo changes to convey mood – witness the trippy, mystical section midway here, with Line’s high vocal, J’s bitten-off growls, and a relentless groove that segues gently into a hushed guitar solo and a tick-tock rimshot/cymbal rhythm. The tension creeps back in with J and Line’s interwoven singing and Kirk’s repetitive guitar part, before it bursts free anew with J’s impassioned roars. The whistle and guitar section at the start finishes it, with the two singers in their back-and-forth and Line taking wonderful liberty with the melody the last time in the chorus. The songs are long, but boy, are they meaty and delicious.
And each masters the folk and metal combo in its own way. “Den Forste Fejde” (“The First Feud”) begins with the singers merging in a wordless drone, which serves as a transition between each verse. Line then sings to a backdrop of acoustic and strings, her voice light and natural, without affectation. Blast beats take over, with guitar strumming a la Wolfheart, then after the transition (with bagpipes added), J gets his crack at a verse, set to a more swinging tempo. After Line’s chorus, J’s growls punctuate the legato of the transition with staccato. They alternate in this manner until the bridge section, which pairs the pipes and singing with guitars and more of J’s roars – when a blast beat is added to the pipes, they get a bit drowned out, but that’s a minor criticism. Line delivers one more chorus, set to a slightly less dense arrangement, before the beginning part returns. The mournful melody, just Rikke’s pipes this time, brings it to a melancholic close.
A crackling fire, an ominous drone, and an acoustic/whistle melody with that customary folk lilt begin “Blot” (“Just”). The singers continue alternating parts that are innately suited to them: Line sings to the acoustic melody and rhythmic passes that are set off by little chimes of tambourine at the end of each. J’s part is more aggressive, of course, with guitars and drums adding power to the already-established swing. She sings a descant in each of his portions, and again could be a bit louder. The bridge is Line on a different, slightly less dark melody, with wonderful drumming and guitars, and J, also on a slightly altered take on his earlier part, and that is also alternated. Line’s solo at the end, on more wordless singing, is just lovely, ringing and full – the acoustic has a turn, and then she closes it.
“Rejsen Mod Nord” (“The Journey to the North”) has a marvellously eerie beginning, pairing acoustic strumming with jaw harp, Line’s ethereal croon, and foreboding drumming. A purely metal set of riffing and drumming takes over, picking up the melody a bit and adding a terrific, almost martial, hitching stop at the end of each verse and in the chorus as well – you find yourself looking forward to it each time, it’s that good. Here, J handles the verses and Line does the choruses – and her final take modulates spectacularly, ending on the glorious cry in her voice.
Speaking of spectacular, it doesn’t get much more so on the closer, “Frigg” (“Free”). The blending and adding of instrumentation here is superb – an acoustic and low whistle melody is joined by Line’s deep, lush voice. The whistle returns, weaving in and out, then fiddle is added to the blend in the second verse. The melody changes in a bridge section and Line’s voice is overdubbed, adding a stunning low harmony. When it becomes metal, it’s just as gorgeous, the guitars taking over the whistle melody, the initial swing becoming even more potent. J then has his say on his version of the melody, similar and yet so different, proving how well the two genres blend. Line weaves beneath him on that bridge melody, which would be even more amazing if it were a bit louder. The ending is masterful, Line’s overdubbed vocals going a cappella, then merging with the guitars, then back again.
The album’s title may translate to “darkness,” but “Morket” shines a brilliant light on the Danes of Vansind that is unlikely to be dimmed in the future.
(5 / 5)
