Fyrnask – Íosir

The German band Fyrnask, founded in 2008, emerged from a solitary vision in which black metal, ritual soundscapes, drones, and ambient-infused textures converged. From the very beginning, the project approached the genre not as an expression of pure aggression, but rather as a form of evocative ceremony. What initially started as a solo project evolved into a full live band in 2014, allowing Fyrnask’s dense and immersive atmosphere to unfold on stage as well. To date, the band has released four full-length albums: Bluostar (2011),  Eldir Nótt (2013), Fórn (2016), and VII Kenoma (2021). Five years after that last opus, Íosir now presents itself.

On the new album, Fyrnask takes the listener on a solitary journey through the realm of the dead, seen through the eyes of one wandering soul. This motif also resurfaces in titles such as Hliðvera (Gate Entity), Sálarmylnan (The Soul Mill), Krýndur af tóminu (Crowned by Emptiness), Dødens Segl (The Seal of Death), and Hjól Endurfæðingar (The Wheel of Rebirth). The journey passes burning gates, dark and luminous forces, emptiness, and dissolution. Íosir invites the listener to enter the realm of death while still alive, so that the spirit may learn to release what it desperately clings to in the safety and comfort of the familiar.

The album compels humanity to cast aside its mask and acknowledge how temporary, fragile, and fearful that mask truly is. Those expecting redemption from the darkness at the end of this lonely descent will be disappointed: Íosir offers little more than the courage to confront that darkness. Death is not revered here as a nihilistic endpoint, but as a force that severs the false contract with the world. One could call it a dark deconstruction of the self. That may sound grandiose, yet the music genuinely embodies this theme: not as a narrative that follows a clear storyline, but as a suffocating inward movement. And you thought Íosir would lend itself to casual background listening?

With a magnificent haze of sound, Hliðvera opens the album. It feels less like a conventional album intro and far more like a ritual threshold: a sonic space in which one is slowly detached from the earthly realm, while consciousness takes its first step toward the world of spirits. On Íosir, Fyrnask continues its pursuit of sonic intensity and sacred depth with unwavering conviction. The band achieves this not by relying solely on aggression or speed. Naturally, the listener is once again immersed in sacred intensity and venom, as heard in Blóðmálmur and Krýndur af tóminu, but do not expect a straightforward, relentless assault. This is rather an incantatory, swirling current of atmosphere and repetition: a ceremonial immersion that slowly, yet inexorably and mercilessly, surrounds you.

Repetitive, almost hypnotic guitar lines, ethereal and dark atmospheric layers (notably in the slowly erupting Í Munnlausri Dýrð, in Glóð svíður, and in the inevitable Dødens Segl), venomous eruptions, and possessed blast beats form the backbone of the album. Draped over these are whispering and growling voices, choral vocals (in Hliðvera, Í Munnlausri Dýrð en Dødens Segl), and a massive, enveloping production. Together, they create a suffocating world of atmosphere, tension, and invocation. The listener is not so much overwhelmed as gradually and unmistakably enclosed. It feels as though the music closes in around you: dark, ritualistic, and oppressive, with just enough menace to deny any sense of comfort. Yet this searing immersion is not merely paralyzing. Those who surrender to it are swept away by a current that awakens energy and determination.

Anyone seeking catchy riffs, recognizable song structures, or memorable melodies on Íosir may find themselves lost in the ritual mist conjured by the trio. Fyrnask’s strength lies not in immediate accessibility, but in atmosphere, surrender, and total immersion. What elevates Fyrnask into a sacred experience for one listener renders the band inaccessible to another: the extended arcs of tension, the dense and heavily layered production, the absence of immediate points of reference, and the emphasis on mystical experience over conventional song structures. Fyrnask does not seek to please – it seeks to invoke. That demands time, the right frame of mind, and concentration, but it also makes the band as fascinating as it is challenging.

On Íosir, black metal becomes a ritual medium through which Fyrnask guides consciousness through fire, emptiness, menace, and sacred dissolution across the afterlife. This is not music that merely strives to sound aggressive or dark, but a ceremony of darkness, loss, and longing for the unknown. It is not presented as a linear or accessible narrative, but as an incantatory descent. That is precisely where the challenge lies: Íosir does not ask for casual listening, but for complete immersion. The question is whether you are willing to undertake that descent or whether you will abandon the journey along the way.

Score:

92/100

Label:

Ván Records, 2026

Tracklisting:

  1. Hliðvera
  2. Loginn Ómyndaði
  3. Sálarmylnan
  4. Blóðmálmur
  5. Krýndur af tóminu
  6. Í Munnlausri Dýrð
  7. Glóð svíður
  8. Rustna Drottningin
  9. Dødens Segl
  10. Hjól Endurfæðingar

Line-up:

  • Fyrnd – Bass guitar, guitar, vocals
  • Exord – Guitar
  • Alghol – Drums

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