Written: 23rd November 2024
Forndom (Swedish multi-instrumentalist and Nordic folk musician Ludvig Swärd) bases his music around the use of an acoustic sound, eschewing more modern elements. The key to the enthralling nature of the music is Ludvig’s voice, which is delivered through a range of captivating incantations and invocations. Those of you who have been following my album reviews for a while will know that I am fan of a variety of metal and rock; Forndom does not fit into either of those categories, residing in the realms of Ambient Nordic Folk. However, such is the irresistible nature of the music and atmospheres explored by Forndom, his previous release Faþir (released in 2020) topped my albums of the year list. Now he returns with Moþir, the female counterpart to Faþir, which delves into the complexities of female deities and their relationship with humanity.
Opening with the sound of distant rain and the intriguing soft jangle of metallic percussion, there is the feeling of something unknown approaching as first track Tunridor (which translates as Tun Riders) begins. This builds until the steady beat of a drum and other percussion coalesce into a beguiling, hypnotic rhythm. Immediately, the listener is transported into the world that Forndom conjures; once entered, it is difficult to leave. There is little change to rhythmic structure throughout the track but mesmerising violin by Thomas von Wachenfeldt and the evocative lyrics (sung entirely in Swedish) ensure our attention does not wander. Hören mig Hei / Du som högt på himlen far / Trenne gånger bränd / Och ändock finns du kvar / Hören mig moder / Till onda kvinnors dåd / Du som rider stav / Och känner varje tråd, which translates as (Hear me Heid / You who fly high in the sky / Thrice burned / And yet you remain / Hear me mother / To the deeds of wicked women / You who ride pole / And knows every thread). The fact that the album is sung in a language not my own does not affect my enjoyment of the album, making it even more mysteriously alluring. Inspired by the Norse concept of witches, Tunridor explores feminine darkness. Swärd explains: “The tenth rune, according to the Uthark system, is Ís – the rune of death. This rune is chanted eight times by Janne Posti in the song, representing the transformative power of death and rebirth.”
Urd assumes a slightly faster tempo with Janne Posti’s wondrous choral vocals adding a deep layer of grandeur to the song. Across the entire album, the arrangements and harmonies are never less than spectacular, with each instrument and voice crystalline yet enigmatic. Urd is among the best examples of this. Moderstårar (Mother’s Tears) brings another aspect of Forndom’s sound to light, taking two minutes to build its compelling introduction through the use of detached, far away horn and picked strings. With a restrained, contemplative vocal, Ludwig begins a heartfelt lament. Säg mig fagra moder / Skall du stå mig bi / Genom sorgens floder / Genom plågeri (Tell me fair mother /Will you stand by me / Through the rivers of sorrow / Through torture). In pained questioning, the song continues steadily for several minutes until – just before the five minute mark – it blooms magnificently. Tempo and dynamics increase and thus begins one of the most haunting segments of the album, a violin solo of incredible grace that brings each of the pleading lyrics to life through its beauty.
Disar – the second single from the album – is, in Swärd’s words, “inspired by the mythical dísir and their complex relationship with humans – both as dark figures who can bring illness and misfortune, but also as protectors of their chosen ones, as well as female guardians and guides of families and ancestral lines. In many ways, the song also welcomes death with open arms, not as an end, but as the beginning of something new.” Returning to the slower, more deliberate tempos of Tunridor, Disar highlights the nuances of each voice that weaves the steady, seductive narrative. Conversely, instrumental Jord allows us to focus purely on its delightfully thoughtful structure, bringing to mind sweeping, majestic landscapes with the aura of optimism in its melodies. Penultimate song Rán is another instrumental that opposes the sanguinity of Jord with its altogether more introspective disposition. This trio of tracks, while displaying similarities in their moderate tempos, each has its own character and this is one of the key strengths of Moþir, in that Swärd is a master at playing with ambiance, tone and the energy within any given song.
Final song Den kärlek som vi gav (The Love That We Gave) explores themes of faithfulness, mortality and transcendence while referencing Sutur of Norse mythology and suggesting that love will be tested or revealed in the face of destruction. Må Surturs eldar se / Vad vi är gjorda av / Nog skola dödens horn / Mig givas vid min vrå / Men lysa skall ett torn / Och kärleken bestå (May the fires of Surtur see / What we are made of /The horn of death will come / I am given at my corner / But a tower shall shine / And love endure). Encompassing a central section that is the most musically urgent on the album, together with a glorious finale that leaves us reaching to play the album again, Forndom brings Moþir to a close with a track that displays all the best constituents it has to offer.
At a little over thirty five minutes (similar in length to Faþir), there is no danger of the album outstaying its welcome. For those who enjoyed Faþir, there is a familiar comfort in the arrangements of Moþir, and due to its concept and lyrics, it serves as a sister album to the previous release. Having listened to the two albums back to back several times, it is clear how well they work as a pair, favouring mood and atmosphere over theatrics and fireworks. With a layered tapestry of sound that often borders on the cinematic, Forndom has produced another remarkable album that will, without doubt, rankly highly during my end of year deliberations. Numinous, mystical and utterly enchanting.
Moþir is released on 6th December 2024
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