I have often had something of a strained relationship with folk metal. The more 'organic' end of the genre, for want of a better term, tends to be so serious and ethnic that I just bounce off it - whereas the more power metal-influenced end can often be over the top and gimmicky. I used to enjoy some of the bands that fall somewhat in the later category, but I have largely gone off most of them over the years as they began to plough evermore parody-esque furrows - to the extent that folk metal on the whole is not something that I consume very much of at all these days. The one fairly regular exception to that rule is the Swiss band Eluveitie - whom I first came across properly back in 2012 when they opened for Sabaton. Sound-wise, Eluveitie sit very much at the more organic end of the folk metal spectrum - but they do not feel as po-faced nor as dense as many of the much more intense and inaccessible folk metal acts currently doing the rounds. Despite very much rooting their sound in the folk music of their native Switzerland, Eluveitie never forget to include plenty of big hooks in their songs - and their melodic death metal base is much more my thing than the black metal or even post-metal jumping off point that many other folk metal bands use. Still, it took me a few years to fully appreciate Eluveitie. I definitely enjoyed that 2012 set, but it was not until I saw them again, this time with Epica, in 2015 that their sound seemed to really click - and by the time I saw them again in 2019 they pretty much blew Lacuna Coil off stage. I enjoy the band's albums, but it is perhaps live where they truly shine. Playing with little reliance on synths or backing tracks, Eluveitie replicate the vast majority of their folky sounds live - meaning that each concert is a treat for the senses as violins, hurdy-gurdies, and razor-sharp guitar riffs all battle for space. The band's albums are still great, of course, and this piece is dedicated to their newly-released ninth studio album Ànv - which dropped at the end of April. It is the band's first album in six years, following the excellent Ategnatos (which I reviewed here) from 2019. Despite being into the band before 2019, Ategnatos was the first Eluveitie album I covered here - as it was the first one I picked up on release. It was also the band's first metal release in five years - with Evocation II: Pantheon from 2017 being more of a stripped back acoustic release. There has been no such acoustic stop-gap this time, though, meaning that Ànv has somewhat been a long time coming. It is the band's shortest album at just over 40 minutes long - but it lacks none of the band's usual diversity. Heavy, Gothenburg-adjacent anthems sit nicely side-by-side with more organic ballads and mid-paced rockers - with the duelling vocals of founder Chrigel Glanzmann and Fabienne Erni working as well as ever. As is common with Eluveitie, Ànv features a somewhat new-look version of the band - as it is the first to feature violinist Lea-Sophie Fischer. It also turns out to be the last with multi-instrumentalist Matteo Sisti, who left the band earlier this year, and it is the band's first without a full-time hurdy-gurdy player - with former members Michalina Malisz and Annie Riediger both playing the instrument throughout.
I do not think that this album is as strong as Ategnatos, which may well be my favourite Eluveitie album, but it is still enjoyable - and it is interesting to see how the band has condensed their usually sprawling sound down into a more bite-sized release. It does not feel as epic as Ategnatos nor the more overt concept albums which came before it - but as an exercise in songwriting Ànv still contains many gems. As is often the case with the band's albums, Ànv opens with the instrumental scene-setter Emerge - which builds over a minute or so of swirling violin and whistle melodies and tough rhythm guitars. It is perhaps less organic than how the band often open their albums, but it is fitting considering the more svelte approach generally taken here - and a big drum barrage from Alain Ackermann then heralds the transition into Taranoías. The opening cut is very much classic Eluveitie, then, with a fast-paced thrashy riff setting the tempo - whilst the folk instruments provide the main melodic hooks. Guitarists Rafael Salzmann and Jonas Wolf are as busy as ever riff-wise, with Ackermann adding some blast beats on occasion - particularly during the break-neck verses which feature the deep growls of Glanzmann. This album seems to a feature Erni quite a bit more overall, too, and she takes over during a slower and more melodic chorus. The growls are still there, albeit in the background for weight, but Erni's sweet voice creates a soaring chorus that differs from the aggressive nature of the verses - whilst a brief instrumental section later on showcases some more folky melodies. The Prodigal Ones is similar overall, but the pace feels a bit more deliberate. Eluveitie have a certain anthemic side which comes out on occasion, and this is a song which channels that feeling quite considerably. The folky melodies are less jig-like, with Fischer and Sisti instead going for smoother and lyrical melodies which sit nicely against the more controlled guitar barrage - with the verses feeling more stop-start behind Glanzmann's vocals and Kay Brem's bass feeling more present. Erni again sings during the chorus, in a call-and-response manner with Glanzmann - and the slightly more restrained pace allows for the folky instrumentation to shine when the vocals are absent, with mournful hurdy-gurdy having more of a presence overall. A brief, shredded guitar solo adds some traditional metal to the mix - and it injects a moment of speed in what is otherwise a hooky, strident number that is likely to become a live favourite. The ethereal title track follows, which features Erni singing in reconstructed Gaulish - something which the band have often done in the past. It is a short piece overall, with very little arrangement to speak of. It is more reminiscent of some of the pieces on the band's more acoustic-based albums - but there is not even an acoustic instrument to be heard, with Erni instead singing against some choral vocals and what sounds like mournful strings. It is not a band piece at all, and sounds like something from a film soundtrack, but it helps to cement the band's earthy tone - particularly following two pretty riffy pieces.
This riffy sound is immediately returned to, though, during the fast-paced Premonition - which is very much a classic-sounding Eluveitie piece. The riffing is very thrashy and Gothenburg-esque here, with busy double bass drumming and interlocking rhythm guitars - over which Glanzmann sings with real venom. I do not think that he gets talked about enough as a vocalist. He is one of my favourite harsh vocalists due to his clarity, but is rarely brought up when the topic is discussed. Perhaps not being part of a bona fide death metal band harms his 'cred' - but for me he is one of the best, and this thrashy track showcases why. There are plenty of folky additions, but they are not as persistent as they sometimes can be. The violins and whistles fade in and out, adding bursts of melody and jot when needed - and stepping back to allow the vocals to shine during much of the piece. They add weight to the anthemic chorus, though, with Glanzmann also sings this time - with Erni's vocals limited to a brief bridge before another high-octane guitar solo, which is also reprised during the song's closing section. Awen is a folkier piece overall, reining in some of the excess heaviness and focusing more on Erni's vocals. It is still a metal track, as crunching riffing backs everything, but the folk instruments feel a lot more important this time. Slow-burning hurdy-gurdy melodies form the basis of the main hook, as well as the chorus, whilst epic-sounding violin lines join the fray when required - adding a real hint of class. Occasional harsh vocal lines accent the heaviness during parts of the chorus - but in general this song allows Erni to shine. She sings the verses with a warmth before letting rip more during the chorus - where she utilises a higher pitch typical of the genre. A jig-like instrumental section later throws in some whistle hooks, too, and the track is overall melodic feast. Anamcara is an acoustic guitar-based number which is based around spoken word. Busy classical-adjacent guitar melodies form the main backing to the spoken word, although mournful violin melodies are also thrown in the mix - with the backing feeling more grand as it moves along, particularly when Erni uses her voice like an instrument to add further depth. It feels like a mid-album break from the heaviness - but this peace is broken immediately by The Harvest, another thrashy anthem which puts Glanzmann back in the spotlight. The warmth of the previous two songs is banished, then, and the classic Eluveitie sound is restored - albeit with more of a focus on interlocking guitar melodies. The riffing here feels a bit more knotty than usual, with the drumming being suitably acrobatic to suit the flying pinch harmonics and occasional more lead-based approach - all whilst the folk instruments create a darker backing. There are some typical folky melodies, including another high-octane jig-like instrumental mid-section, but generally here the violin adds slow-burning and gothic overtones to the piece. The tone is a bit different from the norm, then, with Erni adding some delicate harp to a slower moment later on, but the song still feels classically Eluveitie - with Glanzmann being the sole vocalist this time to really allow the heaviness to permeate.
Memories of Innocence is an all-out folk instrumental. There is no metal here, with an acoustic guitar backing the playground for violins, whistles, and the hurdy-gurdy to throw fast-paced and hooky melodies around - sometimes together and sometimes alone. The drumming is replaced by more organic percussion, too, and the piece does not feel like something which has come from a metal band at all. The band have done things like this before, but these brief instrumentals are always welcome - as they reinforce their cultural roots away from all things heavy. All Is One somewhat builds from the previous track, with a plaintive whistle melody forming the initial basis of the song over strings. The song is a stripped back ballad which again recalls their more acoustic-based albums at times despite some heaviness kicking in during the chorus - with Erni singing throughout and including quite a lot of her harp playing during the verses. The first verse is very sparse, with little backing her, but later verses have a drumbeat behind them alongside other folky melodies - whilst the chorus feels weightier thanks to the rest of the band joining in. The guitars add quite a bit of depth during the chorus, but there is no real riffing to speak of, and there are a couple of moments with some quite bluesy guitar leads - which is something a bit different for the band overall. The penultimate song Aeon of the Crescent Moon returns to a more typical sound - with the band crashing in from the off and Glanzmann once again dominating vocally, even if he adopts a semi-whispered approach during parts of the verses. This is another more mid-paced heavy track, though, which lacks the thrashy approach of the album's heaviest moments - which allows for a pretty anthemic vibe. The guitar riffing is more strident, then, despite the melodic death metal vibes retained - whilst hurdy-gurdy strains are generally more obvious here, particularly early on and during the more varied first verse. Erni adds the odd line here and there, and uses her voice like an instrument during the chorus, but overall this is Glanzmann's song - and he adds his anthemic style to the chorus which is another of the album's more memorable hooks. Thanks to its strident nature it is another song which could well become a live favourite - and another busy instrumental mid-section adds further interest. The album then comes to a close with the strange The Prophecy - another piece sung all in Gaulish. Adrienne Cowan (Seven Spires; Light & Shade; FirstBourne; Winds of Plague; Sascha Paeth's Master of Ceremony) adds her vocal talents to the song - although her contributions are not all that obvious. I think she adds some of the throatier harsh vocals which double Glanzmann during parts of the track - but before the metal kicks in the song builds slowly with Erni's wordless vocals and some mournful strings. Once the band crash in, though, the song is a surprisingly doomy and slow-moving piece - with Glanzmann belting the lyrics in a heroic manner over sludgy riffing and, as the song progresses, epic folk melodies. The violin, whistles, and hurdy-gurdy all fuse together as the song moves forward to create a sweeping, cinematic topper to the harsh riffing - whilst Erni's vocals from the intro return as the song starts to climax, further adding to this epic tapestry. Whilst this album might not be as epic as some of the band's past efforts, the svelte runtime allows for the diversity to really shine through - and I think that the band have succeeded at creating a more restrained version of their usual approach to create something more bite-sized and everyday. I can see myself giving this album a lot of attention due to that fact - and the many memorable anthems here are sure to please the band's fans the world over.
The album was released on 25th April 2025 via Nuclear Blast Records. Below is the band's promotional video for The Prodigal Ones.
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