HEIMLAND

There are those of us who are so ancient that the second wave of Norwegian black metal seems like it was yesterday. This was back when glaciers still scoured the earth clean, and the only thing more grim and frostbitten than the riffs was the actual breeze of the Ice Age howling through our weary bones. Of course, time has plodded on, as it is so apt to do, leaving most of us elders behind, revelling in the timeless classics of the era. As we drowned our sorrows in nostalgia, a whole new breed of Nordic black metal maestros dug themselves deep into the Pagan archives. What they’ve unearthed is not simple mimicry. With youthful exuberance, they’ve injected life into a sub-genre that has seen better days. This isn’t to say they’ve reinvented the wheel. What they have done is dragged that broken and battered wheel back across the barren tundra, reforged its spokes with a blizzard-born ferocity, and set it ablaze atop a mountain peak so that even the black metal gods awoke from their slumber and muttered, “Alright… that’s actually pretty damn good.”

Of these bands, one stands out: Norway’s Heimland. Uniting musicians from Hordaland and Karmøy (Rogaland), the band draws on influences from across the fatherland, with the west coast and Bergen being the epicentre. Through two EPs (2021’s Fimbulvinter and 2024’s Tronearvingens Doed), and one full-length (2023’s Forfedrenes Taarer), the four-piece have steadily climbed the icy rungs of the black metal ladder, culminating in a European tour this past spring with their Nordic buds in Taake. Hot on the spiked heels of that successful tour, the guys recently unleashed their much-anticipated sophomore full-length, Der Torv Moeter Hav (translating to: Where The Soil Meets The Sea).

If you are new to the band, let me draw some comparisons for you (as it relates to the core of Heimland‘s sound): think early Enslaved and Windir at a barbecue hosted by Helheim, with Einherjer deejaying whilst Kampfar recites Skaldic poetry around a blazing campfire. Sounds like a fantastic evening, right? Well, leave it to Heimland to storm in like blizzard beasts from the edge of Jotunheimr, with riffs so frigid they turn flame to ice, blacken fingers and freeze lungs, leaving everyone unlucky enough to be alive clutching their drinking horns like popsicles. Yep. That’s Heimland. It’s not all ice all of the time. Der Toev Moeter Hav definitely has its… toastier… moments. Like warm apple cider served in a frosted mug, the album is filled to the brim with melodic passages, each carrying a fragile warmth beneath the frost, all topped with an icy rim of truly epic pagan atmosphere. As I spun the album, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d heard this battle of warm vs. cold somewhere before. After several front-to-back listens, it finally hit me: Der Torv Moeter Hav, whether intentional or not, sounds like a spiritual successor to Against the Seasons: Cold Winter Songs from the Dead Summer Heat, the 2002 debut EP by Canadian black metal legends Woods Of Ypres. It’s probably pure coincidence, sure… but the similarities are undeniable—borderline eerie, even.

Of course, any comparison made is purely subjective, as each of us will experience this incredible album in different ways. For some, I’m sure this will be their first foray into Nordic black metal. For others, it will be a return to familiar territory, just another step along the left-hand path they’ve wandered countless times before, yet still find endlessly compelling. Whatever the case may be, Heimland have crafted an album that both honours the frostbitten lineage from which they were birthed and boldly propels Norwegian black metal forward into the grimness of eternity.