At first glance, Skald look no different to any of the myriad Viking themed metal acts currently treading the boards. However, appearances can be deceptive, and Skald are no metal band seeking to capitalise on historical imagery in order to lend greater weight to generic riffs. In fact, Skald exist to celebrate Nordic folk music, the music hypnotic and evocative in equal measure. Hailing from France, the band are a project conceived by producer/composer Christophe Voisin-Boisvinet after he encountered a trio of singers whose atypical voices inspired him to reinvigorate the Skalds, epic poetry written in old Norse in celebration of the Vikings and their gods.
Opening track Enn atti Loki fleiri born neatly sets the scene, gentle strings rippling over an icy landscape as a mix of spoken-word and chanted vocals slowly fade into view. It gives way to the eerie run, which employs minimalistic percussion, vocal chants and synths to create an atmospheric piece that seems to envelop the listener. The band get the blood flowing with the brisk Valfreyjudrapa, the taut pace of which makes it ideal for dancing. As water laps around the speakers, a gentle vocal melody is woven against a sparse backdrop in Niu, harmonies slowly emerging as the piece traces ever-more elegant shapes in the sky. It’s quite beautiful and a testament to the abilities of the vocalists involved in the project. Unexpectedly stringent percussion leads into the suspenseful Fluga, and the band weave a rich wall of sound around the vocals as the piece surges forth. The first half ends with the martial percussive might of Gleipniri, a warlike piece that you can imagine providing the dark soundtrack to a Viking assault scene. It’s adrenalin-charged and it marks the album’s visceral highpoint.
Opening the second half, the dense Krakumal is a predominantly vocal piece that recalls Stary Olsa. Eerie woodwind leads the listener into the hymnal o Valhalla, a minor-key piece redolent with the spluttering candles and spilled ale of long-lost halls. Close your eyes and you can see the warriors chanting in serried rows at their tables, such is the evocative nature of the music. The A Capella Ec man iotna is a stunning, short piece that is all the more dramatic for its stripped-back approach before more atmospheric sounds are utilised to drive the bass-heavy Yggdrasill. A fast-paced piece that recalls Hans Zimmer at his most explosive, Odinni gets the adrenalin flowing, and it builds beautifully as different vocals are used to emphasise different elements of the track. The hypnotic ambience of Ginnunga recalls the latter-day output of Burzum with its chanted vocals before Skald bring the album to a close with an unexpected and entirely brilliant cover of Bjork’s Joga, which, remarkably, manages to eclipse the original.
Thanks to a seemingly endless succession of Viking-themed metal bands, it is tempting to think that the rich history of a proud people has been plundered to death. Skald, however, do not employ the imagery of the Vikings simply as a stylistic device. Their music, evocative of long-lost warriors and steeped in the majesty of a bygone age, is both haunting and exciting. From the subtle, spoken-word soundscaping of the album’s opening track to the thunderous rendition of Joga, Skald hypnotise the listener with dense rhythms, layered harmonies and atmospheric instrumentation, which, when taken together, serve to create a soundtrack quite unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. Bold and beautiful, Vikings Chant is an unexpectedly brilliant piece of work. 9
