Review: Amorphis – Borderland
“Borderland” shows Amorphis standing at a crossroads: veterans with ground to cover still, eyes fixed ahead toward new borders even as they carry their legacy. This fifteenth studio album doesn’t reinvent what the Finns do, but refines it, polishing legends into sharper form and carving fresh contours around familiar truths. It is lush, it is melodic, it sometimes soars – by and large, it validates their relevance rather than just their history.
The record opens with “The Circle,” shimmering with keyboards that stretch like a dawn breaking over old ruins, before the guitars and drums push weight into the air, reminding you Amorphis still know how to balance atmosphere and heaviness. From “Bones,” with its darker heft, sinister riffs, and hints of Eastern-tinged strings, to “Light And Shadow,” which leans more melodic and anthemic, the band oscillates between introspection and catharsis. These moments are where “Borderland” is strongest: where melody becomes more than ornament, becomes spine.
Production under Jacob Hansen (HeavenShall Burn, Evergrey, Volbeat) gives the album clarity without taking away the lush layers. There is space in the mix: clean vocals shine, growls cut through, synths float, guitar leads linger. Not every song pushes the extremes, and that gives the album a restraint that works more often than not. It seldom feels overstuffed, even when arrangements grow complex. The transitions between clean and distorted, between soft keys and roaring guitar are handled with care.
Lyrical themes of wisdom vs modern life, of nature slipping, of continuity and disruption, are woven into the mood rather than shouted. They don’t feel like afterthoughts; they lift songs. When Amorphis let the folk inflections, the quiet passages, the melancholic voices carry weight, the emotional impact is real. Tracks like “The Lantern” and “Despair” bring out the strongest dualities: light and night, hope and grief, ancient roots and fractured futures.
Yet “Borderland” is not without its stumbles. Some songs blur together in their texture. The middle of the album slips into familiarity: mid-tempo riffing, sweeping keyboards, and sometimes the anticipation of a breakthrough that comes slower than desired. Where earlier albums might have leaned heavier or introduced sharper surprises, this one chooses refinement over rupture. Moreover, in trying to be both epic and accessible, certain moments risk feeling too polished, too safe. The anthemic choruses work, but sometimes feel designed as much for largeness as for emotional truth. The very polish that gives the record shine also smooths some of its rougher edges, which could have lent more character.
On balance, “Borderland” is a piece of excellent craftsmanship more than a revolution. For a band with three decades behind it, to still push forward, explore slightly new spaces, refresh the sound without severing its roots, is no small thing. The album rewards patience, multiple listens, and a willingness to be carried by melody and atmosphere as much as by riffs and power.
This is not Amorphis at their most radical, but Amorphis at their most coherent in a long while. For what it sets out to do, it largely succeeds, being melodic, dramatic, warm in its cold hues.”Borderland” is a strong addition to their catalogue, demonstrating both loyalty to identity and readiness for new horizons.
The vinyl variants are truly gorgeous:
