From Bandcamp, “The long Canadian winter has many voices, but few speak with the introspective clarity of FINNR’S CANE. Emerging from the icy expanse of Sudbury, Ontario, the duo’s self-titled fourth album is a meditation on transition: the slow dying of autumn, the silence of snowfall, and the liminal space between nature and civilization. Though rooted in atmospheric black metal, they forgo many of the genre’s conventions. There is no bass guitar; instead, low-end warmth and mournful resonance are carried by cello and keyboard, lending the music an organic, almost spectral quality. Rather than follow rigid structures, their songs unfold through improvisation, guided by mood and instinct.”

The album has eight songs, and “Wayward Souls” is first. It eases in, then the bomb drops. It’s a thick, overgrown song with plenty of exploratory branches. The landscape is somber, and barren, and the clean vocals bring some diversity to the table. “Twilight Glow” brings more melody with it, but very stark and sober ones, and it captures the magic of twilight…that magical time when the sun descends and just before the creatures emerge from the night. “Awaken the Sleeping Forest” shoots from out of the darkness with a measure of aggression and rage. The vocals are tortured, and the fact that they are clean does not detract from the aggression. They are also some fleeing moments of melody here.

“In Shadows” capitalizes on that darkness that is the counterpart to every person…the thing that accompanies them everywhere they do…their alter ego. The harsh vocals reflect that darkness very well. “The Northwind” is that breeze of frigid air that blasts down into your little world, and it brings a cold sterility with it. It nips and bites at your skin, and leaves you numb. “The Everwinter Grey” takes that feeling a step further to the area where the cold North wind came from…a place of “ever-grey.” It carries with it a deep burden of total depression and hopelessness. “The Spell of the Change of Seasons” you would think might bring hope to the table, but instead, it bring more despondence. It’s not winter changing to spring, it’s fall changing to winter.

“Harvest” is the final offering. It sounds like a dark ritual to me…like something you might utter making a sacrifice. This was a dreadfully delightful album to listen to. It reminded me of a cold winter’s day that you have to traverse. Even when you are bundled up, the bite of the wind and frigid air don’t let up until you are safely at home again. In a strange way, its depressive tones were also somewhat comforting. Call that the power of music.