The cycle of life and nature is a precious and wondrous thing. We are born. We learn. We live. We die. And after death, another life awaits. When the world succumbs to the cold, dark grasp of winter, the promise of a spring birthing everything anew keeps hope alive. Such is the journey we make, and such is the lifespan of “Faþir”. Heaving, pulsating, filled with contrasts: ardent hostility and fiery revenge, blossoming life and lush fertility, soul-wrenching grief and deep anguish. Such is the path we walk under the guidance of the deities – the helping hand of a father, the nurturing wisdom in times of need. But sometimes, a treacherous god leads us into death and despair, albeit always with an underlying purpose. Such is “Faþir”.
With eloquence, elegance, and emotion, L. Swärd has created another monolith of sublime art to add to Forndom’s impeccable discography. This highly awaited follow-up to 2016’s “Dauðra Dura” is nothing short of a modern masterpiece, rooted in ancient ways. Expressive vocals and strings soar atop a foundation of unyielding drums, like spirits dancing in the skies yet bound to the human pulse. Never surrendering its strong connection to our mortal world, “Faþir” carries a deeply sacred dimension – a glimpse of the divine, seen through a lens of devotion and veracity. The joining of death and life, if you will.
The thick atmospheres and vast inner landscapes Forndom creates are more prevalent than ever, and from the first trembling string introduction of “Jakten” to the last wistful beat of “Hemkomst”, one is transported to another time, another place, and another mindset – leaving behind the calamity, stress, and superficiality of the modern world, and rediscovering the lost wisdom hidden behind the veil of passing years.
