From Bandcamp, “Lyksalver” was born from an insatiable thirst for self-determination and is dedicated to those who are battle-weary: the desolate, the sorrowful, and above all, the souls unwillingly hollowed out—those for whom the sacred reflection of what once was has silently decayed into the suffocating stench of severe putrescence.” The album has five songs, and “Afschynsel” is first. Out of the gate, the thirsty beast with razor sharp fangs comes straight at you bearing its jaws. From that point forward, you are running blindly for your life. As you run, the ground beneath you seems to get thicker and thicker with underbrush until your vision is severely limited. You can feel the hot breath of the beast on your neck, and hear his pangs of hunger for blood. Suddenly, he vanishes.

“Per Nefer” is a little less overgrown, but its branches are still many and its reach extends far. Some melodies are given room to enter, but are ushered away quickly, and pace seems to quicken. You look over your shoulder again, because you can feel it out there still. “Folgertogt” is both deeper and heavier, and carries with it an incredible burden of grief. Still, the hard jabs of pain remind you that you are still alive, and have persevered, no matter what the price. Some of the tones that come in after the half-way mark are torturous. “Hersielingh” is longest, and hears the thick sound continue, with a side plate of fright. There are also some vocal chants that sound monumental, like you are caught up in a middle age ceremony of coronation. The intensity is unmatched.

“Sluymerval” closes the album, and it opens a wondrous clean melody from guitars and vocals, showcasing a completely different side of the band. It is very, very somber however. Suddenly, the beast reemerges from the shadows, more massive than ever. By the time the final notes fade, the album does not leave the listener in despair—it leaves them hardened, standing in the wreckage of the storm, still breathing, still unbowed. This is not an album of submission but of struggle. It is proof that within agony, within rage, within absolute torture, there is still the power to choose—either to be broken or to rise.