Among the slew of bands to come out of the late 00s-early-10s “djent” scene, Vildhjarta are one of few that has always felt genuinely distinct. After Meshuggah, they are arguably the band who was most able to foster their own unique identity and style, largely built around their evolution of the djent guitar tone into what they’ve indirectly coined as “thall.” A sound they’ve been evolving themselves since forming way back in 2005, utilizing creative pitch-shifting, precise string-bends and releases, and pushing the cutting edge of what guitar effects processors and extended-range guitars will allow. With that has come a cult-following of sorts, lore, and a slowly increasing number of copycats. To put it in modern parlance, Vildhjarta have aura. On the new album + där skogen sjunger under evighetens granar + (eloquently translating to “where the forest sings under the neighbors of eternity”) they’ve put their stamp down on why they remain at the forefront of this subgenre of progressive metal, by tangibly progressing what it can sound like.
First, to not get too ahead of ourselves… If you’ve heard Vildhjarta before, you generally know what you’re getting into here. There’s not a lot that is radically different from the sound we’ve heard evolve over their 2011 debut and long-awaited follow-up Måsstaden Under Vatten back in 2021. This is despite the fact it’s easy to forget that there is technically zero original members left from when this band originally formed, with guitarist Calle joining in 2009 being the longest mainstay.
Yet, relative to all the “thall” inspired bands out there, Vildhjarta is the most efficient, getting the most out of every note and rest. Because it’s not a density thing with them. They make the most out of the gaps between notes, building tension as the unpredictable syncopation grooves hypnotically. A sensation elevated by staring at the vibrant and unnerving medieval-folk style album cover. Musically, nothing seems forced or rushed, drawing seemingly much more from post- and avant-garde metal than most of their deathcore leaning contemporaries such as drummer/bassist Buster and Calle’s other band Humanity’s Last Breath. Rather than relentless obliteration, atmosphere and ambience is heavily leaned on here, bringing shifting tones and moods from contemplative and cloud-floating bliss, to anxious terror.
Compared to the last album, things feel less static, as riffs are constantly undulating, evolving and bending into strange forms. Vocalist Vilhelm Bladin is a living beast across this album, flexing from these viciously diabolical screams to demonic lows. His deliberate emphasis on certain pronunciations really adds this organic immersive tone. The range of singing is also expanded, adding both affectionate and powerfully distraught clean melodies over the discordant rhythms. Buster again just knows how to perfectly craft percussion into this style of music, manipulating tempos and syncopated patterns to elevate the atmosphere and specific moods.
Not to dunk on deathcore too much, but it feels like a pertinent example of how much more can be done with this sound when it’s not limited to your typical deathcore song-structuring and writing. They’re not just turning their breakdowns into these seismic otherworldly tones using some fancy interface and a downtuned 8-string, they’re using these modern tools to augment what would already be brilliant prog metal, and finding some glorious harmony between bizarrely genius creativity, emotional expression, and technology. And it’s not just the breakdowns, the riffs. Goodness, these things are jarring even for a seasoned dissonant death metal and mathcore listener. They rival Car Bomb for pure “how is a guitar making those sounds” bewilderment, as innovation and creativity continues to be their calling card, and ultimately what keeps me coming back to them.
Like most great prog metal albums, + där skogen sjunger under evighetens granar + feels like it takes you on a journey, with the individual songs feeling bigger than themselves, and subsequently the album itself feels like one cohesive work of art. Continuing from their previous releases, you’re transported into a strange land of Swedish folklore and imagination. Minor elements of the musical folk-infusion that we saw experimented with on their last release have snuck in again, notably on “+den spanska kanslan+” giving it this mythical, extra-scandinavian fairytale energy. All the lyrics being emphatically sung in Swedish don’t hinder this vibe either. While the previous release Masstaden Under Vatten had a more somber autumnal vibe, things feel more midsommar bonfire here. With an unsettling dream-like haze, that turns nightmarish dread.
If one had to nitpick, the question could be raised as to if this style of music and especially style of production suits the hour-long runtime. Surely die-hard Vildhjarta fans will scoff at that suggestion, but djent by its nature is inherently repetitive, and while they certainly do much more with it than your average djent band, some ear fatigue may still rise for less obsessive listeners. But the heightened eclecticism works well to curb that.
This is one of those albums where you think “how does one even begin to write music like this?” It feels like it would have taken so much out of every member, both in time, and mental and physical capacity. This was echoed by Calle on his social media, posting “During the making of this album, every one of us thought about quitting more than once. But here we are.” And we are thankful for it. + där skogen sjunger under evighetens granar + is their strongest, most complete and consistent album to date. Vildhjarta have delivered a continuously flowing listening experience carried by unbridled creativity and beautifully perverse imagination.
Thall.