The summer holidays of my childhood have always been a huge pain in the ass, except for the time my old man took me to semi-unknown, and therefore little frequented, beaches in Sicily and the Gargano. There I was finally able to love the salty solitude of the Mediterranean waves and the silent saltiness that imbued the mid-August sunsets. For me, who was born and raised basically at the foot of the mountains, from that moment the sea, the one so far from the chattering of the partying Riviera, began to take shape as a mysterious and, therefore, fascinating element. This is to say that I am particularly attracted to music inspired, in one way or another, by the sea.
And 2024 of the Hamferð opens with a “marine” record, whose music and lyrics contextualize the events of February 13, 1915. Then one of many grindadrap, cetacean hunting activity which occupies a fundamental place in the economic structure of the Faroe Islands, which started from the village of Sandvík (the keyboardist’s birthplace) ended in tragedy, with the destruction of two boats and their crews irremediably swallowed by the jaws of the sea. The only survivor of the catastrophe, a sailor on one of the two boats, reflecting on what happened, will then pronounce in a radio interview the phrase that will give the album its title, Men Guðs hond er sterk (But the hand of God is strong). The story therefore provides material to work on, and the aura of epic tragedy of the album communicates precisely the alternation between inevitable desperation and, albeit minimal, a sort of relief.
Hamferð propose a traditional approach to doom/death metal, a genre they have handled to perfection since the beautiful Támsins Likam (2018). The difference, however, is that this work slightly increases the speed of the songs, which very often, as you understand as soon as you press play, they are rockily energetic. A curiosity about the production: the band chose to record the entire album live, in the studio, without resorting to multitrack recordings.
Men Guðs hond er sterk he also offers us particularly well-chosen melodies, which sometimes have an aftertaste of Opeth old school (those from the Candlelight period so to speak). We can then find some space rock quotes in songs like Glæman, and serves to give breathing space after the most tense musical parts. This type of sound is less surprising if we consider that the singer (Jón Aldará) also played in Barren Earthalready authors of very valid studio tests which also recalled the sound of our Swedish colleagues, extreme yes but particularly receptive to certain “intuitions” with a Pink Floyd flavour.
The vocals are superb and play a key role in making the album more engaging. It’s worth saying that one of the highest moments of the entire album is found after just a minute and a half, where an imposing tenor voice stands out among the roar of the guitars which literally gave me goosebumps. The good balance that we find at the level of musical structures is also repeated with regard to the overall duration of the work, just under forty-five minutes, and therefore not long-winded.
Men Guðs hond er sterk presents us the Hamferð in excellent form, perhaps slightly less surprising than Támsins likam but still on point, inspired and concrete. (Bartolo da Sassoferrato)
Tags: sweet shipwrecked sea HAMFERÐ
