Band:	Myrkur
Album:	Folkesange
Style:	Folk
Release date:	March 20, 2020
A review by:	ScreamingSteelUS

01. Ella
02. Fager Som En Ros
03. Leaves Of Yggdrasil
04. Ramund
05. Tor I Helheim
06. Svea
07. Harpens Kraft
08. Gammelkäring
09. House Carpenter
10. Reiar
11. Gudernes Vilje
12. Vinter

Don't let that Sound Of Music cover art fool you; somehow we've arrived at the point where acoustic folk is more metal than folk metal.

Yes, that's right, acoustic folk. Myrkur has left blastbeats and growling behind - Folkesange is just folk songs (it's in the title) performed by Myrkur herself on a variety of traditional instruments, with an assortment of studio musicians to contribute depth to the arrangements. While I wouldn't call Folkesange quite as minimalist, this album seems like Myrkur's answer to Wardruna's Skald: stripped back to the project's most earthen elements, focused on the haunting resonance of Myrkur's vocals and layers of traditional instrumentation that are, if not always simplistic, far from ornamental. This album does not abide by the modern rhythms and structures of Myrkur's earlier material; any melody or echoing drum beat feels absolutely vital, carefully placed not out of expectation but out of necessity.

It takes only the first couple of tracks for Folkesange to mark itself out as Myrkur's most singular release to date. The best of Myrkur's compositions have always been those that strayed from black metal, where she typically seemed chained by convention and unable to connect to the inspiration that fueled her acoustic pieces. Mareridt, which dwelt more heavily on the nonmetal side, seemed to offer a more rewarding path forward, but Folkesange skips several steps along the way and lands firmly in the realm of pure folk, revealing Mareridt to be inescapably modern in retrospect. Even when eschewing high-volume blastbeats and riffs, Mareridt drew from ambient music or indie pop, backing otherwise bare vocal-and-drum pieces with synthesizers or placing effects on Myrkur's voice. Folkesange elides those fanciful tricks of production - it is layered and polished, yes, but it is committed to its grounded, ancient feeling.

Mareridt remains a great album, but Folkesange brings a sense of relief that Myrkur is diving with abandon into the place where she shines the most. Sumptuous vocal lines echo in valleys of creaking strings and distant, martial drums; luscious, dusky melodies unfurl like the settling of mountain mists. The harmonies on "Ella" alone, so delicate and stirring, are enough to inspire full faith in this album's direction - plenty of black metal out there is preoccupied with Tolkien's legendarium, but these are the songs actually sung throughout Rivendell. The dire "Ramund" and simple storytelling of "House Carpenter" also rank among the album's best, but there's no dividing an album as finely crafted as this. From the first peals of "Ella" to the last fading notes of "Vinter," Folkesange is a culturally rich and musically fascinating album. It's like listening to Steeleye Span if you knew that each member was secretly plotting to murder you.

Each piece on this album feels connected to those around it; Myrkur's rich voice floods the album with an unbroken flow of spiritual energy. The deep drones and strings underneath fill the album with a rich color found only in this kind of dark, ethereal Nordic music; while the vocals and instrumentation can be so ghostly that they verge on ambient music, the chants and melodies are ancient mountain songs right to their very roots. I don't regret the lack of black metal for a second, because to wedge modern styles into this album would be to rob Folkesange of so much grace and lustre. Folkesange reaches beyond what came before.