Review: Helheim – HrabnaR / Ad vesa

Helheim’s twelfth studio outing, “HrabnaR / Ad vesa”, is the first record where songwriting duties have been split between the band’s two main songwriters. But don’t be fooled: it’s still Helheim, marching their weathered warbands through black metal wastes, albeit with a twin-headed twist, eager to deliver another high-class black metal record.

In the first half, H’grimnir delivers four tracks soaked in raw, screeching black metal fury. “Geist” rears its head with icy riffing and harsher vocal tones before tumbling into surprisingly melodic choruses. “Sorg er dødens spade” follows with melancholic pacing and clean singing that leans into gothic textures. Then “Livsblot” and the sprawling epic “Mennesket er dyret i tale” trade brutality for atmosphere, reminding fans that Helheim remain adept at phrasing slower-burning sonic assaults without collapsing into generic tremolo chug.

Flip the disc, and V’gandr’s “Ad vesa” half emerges as a more experimental, concept-driven affair. His songs, “Fylgja”, “Hamingja”, “Hugr”, and “Hamr”, draw on Norse soul mythology, balancing melody with dissonant swells, tribal grooves, and Hammond organ flourishes. His approach as cohesive rather than disjointed – the pair of halves complement each other surprisingly well.

But here’s the rub: this album’s grand experiment—splitting creative duty—answers more questions than it raises. In theory, the contrast is compelling; in practice, both halves blur together. What was billed as a groundbreaking split feels like two solo EPs stapled together.

Still, diehard diehards will find plenty to sink their teeth into. The production anchors the material in a raw yet polished space; bass and drums breathe underneath the swirl of guitars and occasional clean vocals. The songwriting remains sharp, the musicianship tight, and the mythic overtones intact. Each track carries an air of gravitas, evoking frostbitten fjords, long-forgotten rites, and ancient ritual. There’s a confidence here born of experience, and moments, particularly in “Mennesket er dyret i tale” and “Hugr, that shimmer with primal menace and beauty. Subtle folk melodies, layered chants, tempo shifts, dissonant passages, and Hammond-tinged flourishes provide texture and intrigue. Yet for all its strengths, “HrabnaR / Ad vesa” often treads familiar ground rather than blazing new trails and lacks a coherent vision.