REVIEWS

AnorexicSumo, November 1st, 2017 

I became a fan of Marshall's work when I heard the first Falloch album, 'Where Distant Spirits Remains'. Yes, to most that album resembles more post rock than any metal genre, but you still hear plenty in that album that you can also pick up across all the other projects he's been in. But alas, this is not about any of Falloch's work, this is about what he did after he left them. From that split came Arsaidh and the album 'Roots'.
What we are presented with here is a fine example of atmospheric folk done well; each track flows seamlessly into the next, the guitar work sets the landscape in your ears, the drums pound away relentlessly, and the vocals are more like cries from the top of a mountain rather than screams through a mic. And I say cries for good reason. The album is heavy yes, but not just due to the instrumentation. It's depth delves far deeper, with the music drawing out the pain and pride of Marshall's theme, Scotland, his roots.
Throughout the album you are presented with a multitude of memorable passages, both heavy and lighter that will surprise most when they realise that this was all done by a single man. You will get plenty of different feelings from it to. At times you'll be prepared to take up arms against those who have desecrated all you stand for, other times, moments to reflect on loss and the beauty of it all. Whatever it is you find, I guarantee you will enjoy it if you are a fan of this type of metal.
Of all the work Marshall has done, I believe this is his best.

Buarainech, January 31st, 2014 

Tuagh, AKA Andy Marshall, really doesn't seem to be able to make up his mind. After calling time on the very promising Askival in 2009 after one album (the very well received Eternity- also on Darker Than Black) apparently due to a lack of musical interest he immediately formed Glasgow Post-Metal outfit Falloch and then left them in 2012 after one album, the much more opinion-dividing (i.e. a bit shite) Where Distant Spirits Remain. This album can be seen then as an amalgamation of previous efforts, taking with him from Falloch just the bare minimum of Agalloch and Alcest influence to flavour (rather than water down) Askival's very Ukrainian-influenced Pagan Black Metal- but already that indecisiveness has reared its head again. Marshall's decision to rename the project Saor after less than a year was apparently due to people having difficulty pronouncing Àrsaidh (Scots Gaelic for “Ancient” and pronounced “Arsey” in case you were wondering), but hopefully now he is settled and satisfied as Roots is probably his best musical output to date. Not that there was much competition from Falloch, but if you enjoyed Askival and can get over the slight increase in Post-Rock influence here then you will love this.
English neighbour's Wodensthrone, Winterfylleth and the lesser known Ildra (the latter being by far the most interesting band in Pagan Black Metal of 2011) are good points of comparison, if slightly lazy ones as the main vibes created on the long winding 6 minute intro to the opening title track are from slightly further afield. Fellow celts Primordial are evoked not so much in any shared heritage sense as the interplay of rolling drum fills and sweeping picked guitars, and the slow waves of strain that continue on incessantly without ever losing their tension. Tonally though this has more in common with Drudkh than anyone, while the slowly-bowed strings give a hint of Nokturnal Mortum and the woodwind section, as well as the general songwriting, have a lot in common with Kroda. It's like a big party with all Pagan Black Metal's major players invited (even the zany racist uncle Graveland) but with those unmistakeable bagpipes this is undeniably Scottish, undeniably unique.
“Saorsa” is a short instrumental again utilising the bagpipes that finally gives them (and Scottish Metal in general) an honourable place in the genre beyond their bizarre place in Korn's Nu Metal, Grave Digger's Braveheart-fetishism and the atrocity that is Alestorm. It is done with the utmost subtlety and tastefulness, as is the Post-Rock elements that feature most strongly on “Carved In Stone.” It doesn't mince about with this influence as it gets stuck in pretty quickly with those “ooh-ahh!” soft vocals that are more akin to The Arcade Fire than Bathory, but they are done so well compared to Falloch that there really is no need for any Metallers to spit the dummy out this time. The biggest influence here by far is still Kroda, and any Post-Metal pretentiousness is kept firmly in check by the simple structure that circles around 2 main riffs punctuated by some tasteful piano keys.
Final track “A Highland Lament” too has its own vibe, breathing softly in elements of Death/Doom and Gothic Metal, epic film score (in particular Howard Shore) and even a hint of DSBM in the slightly fuzzier and more melancholic guitar tone. The warbly female vocals are a bit more Scottish Widows insurers TV ad than they are authentic wailing women, and Marshall could achieve more by varying the tone of his own vocals a bit when he goes for this sombre vibe, but all in all this is a fitting finale to a wonderfully wide and diverse album. Quite easily the best thing in this subgenre since Ildra dropped the incredible Eðelland 2 years ago. [8/10]

From WAR ON ALL FRONTS A.D. 2013 zine- www.facebook.com/waronallfronts

dystopia4, June 19th, 2013 

After a short stint with scene parasites Falloch, Andy Marshall completely redeems himself with this one man monument to the natural world. Like Falloch this features very high production values and can't be called rough around the edges, but there is one major difference - this has heart. It doesn't feel watered down. Falloch took the whole post/Cascadian/blackgaze trend in black metal and made it as lightweight as possible, stripping it of all life and adding horrendous emo/alternative rock vocals just in case the album wasn't marketable enough to a non-metal crowd. The very digestible production here undeniably fits the sound and this work feels completely honest and from the heart. 
Àrsaidh, which is Scottish Gaelic (Gàidhlig) for Archaic, in some ways feels like a lighter Winterfylleth with more atmospheric breaks, and many parallels can be drawn between this and the myriad of other folky "nature metal" bands. It's hard to call this actual black metal, but it still feels like something that has grown out from the genre. It has an atmosphere akin to many black metal bands, there is some tremolo and bombastic drumming and Andy's massive bellow does retain some rasp. This evokes images of oak-laden panoramic views and twisting waterways without sounding close to what you'd expect from the Cascadian black metal scene. This makes sense, as he wanted to bring the Scottish landscape to life instead of the lush forests of the Pacific Northwest. 
Àrsaidh fit pretty soundly into that folky not-quite-black-metal niche, and throw in some doomy vibes for good measure. Clocking in at 50 minutes, this features four lonely tracks, one of which is a brief instrumental. The long running length that Andy allows his songs lets a viable atmosphere soak in and lets the tracks slowly twist and turn at their own discretion. The songs oscillate between flowing subtle post-rock(ish) atmospherics and sweeping epic grandeur. Although the riffs are there, Àrsaidh relies more on a shifting soft-loud dynamic, melody, songwriting and atmosphere to carry the sound. The riffing never really takes to the forefront and pummels away in all of their unrelenting fervour, but being disappointed over this would kind of be missing the point. This is about feeling out an atmosphere and building something dynamic on top of it, not unfettered annihilation. 
Although the metal sections are pretty spectacular, it's the stuff in between that really makes this release. There is a solid selection of keyboard sounds, piano, acoustic guitar, replicated strings and even tin whistle. In fact, the tin whistle at the end of "Carved In Stone" is quite possibly the catchiest part of the entire album. The occasional blowing wind sample immediately brings Agalloch to mind. The subtle droning bagpipe tones in the interlude "Saorsa" establishes a distinctly Scottish feel. A truly talented musician knows when to hold back and when to go all out, and that is readily apparent here. When a band goes all out with constant blast beats and ever-present aggressive riffing without any breaks for the duration of an entire release, this can often lead to it not feeling as heavy as it could be because the aggression and sonic intensity become somewhat normalized and to a degree lose their effect. Although this certainly isn't the heaviest or most primal metal out there, the subtle instrumental sections really make the metal sections feel that much more riveting and intense when they come in. 
This is a very well realized one man offering, and it certainly feels like a full lineup could of been at the helm. Although this does feel decidedly clean and with well trimmed edges, it completely fits the sound. There are two sides to nature, the beautiful expanding vistas that might grace a postcard and that of the untamed wilderness that one might experience when actually traversing deep into the bush - this is the side of nature that can actually kill you if you don't know what you're doing. The vibe that Àrsaidh evokes falls purely into the first camp - and there's nothing wrong with that. This feels more like comfortably viewing a grand panorama of looming trees and interweaving rivers from atop a small mountain than trudging through the bush, relying on your wits for survival. However grandiose, this trip is a pleasant one. This album should serve as a lesson to Andy's former band Falloch: you can make highly accessible nature inspired metal without sacrificing the heart of the music.

caspian, June 10th, 2013 

The two other reviewers have labelled this as very similar to " Winterfella" or some equally kooky band (guess I outta check them out), but for me this whole leafy, sad 'n' pretty long-walks-in-the-forest sound comes off as somewhere between Agalloch and Wintersun. It's got the call-of-a-thousand-ravens super serious forest shtick of the former, and it's got the never ending bombastic of the latter. It's also significantly better than both- not that that's saying much, but yeah.
Yeah, it's a nice album, a bit of post-rock in the long, repetitive melodies and the not very aggressive tremelo riffs, a bit of black metal that's.. somewhere I guess (the vocals and drums, I guess?) and that's pretty much it. Don't expect much in the way of proper BM- indeed, don't expect much in the way of aggressive anything here- but that's pretty much the point of this album. You could tell me that this album is the gayest thing since Coldplay and I'd be pretty hard pressed to deny it!
So why's it good then, you may ask? I think because the dude behind this really knows what he's doing, and it's such a triumphant, life affirming sound that it's hard not to run along with it and have it as your rainy winter's day album (winter down here right now, remember) for a month or two, before forgetting it entirely and digging out Caradan Brood again or something. It is remarkably pleasing on the ears- so many super melodic lead lines (guitar, pan-pipeish and violin!) soaring over the sad 'n' serious tremelo'd guitars. Or those yelled/despairingly sung cleans soaring over everything in Carved in Stone. Choir pads stuffed in their too underneath the rest of the layers; I guess the best summation here is "It's not a subtle album."
Remember how I mentioned Wintersun's bombast? It's honestly quite a good comparison- except that Arsaidh know that you've got to let up occasionally for maximum effect. And credit where credit's due- there's enough folky moments and long intros to keep the songs dynamic and to keep the sugar rush from tripping you out into a complete diabetic meltdown. Personally, I would've liked the whole deal to have incorporated a few more hushed moments and maybe even a moment or two where things are just, y'know, a little bit ugly. Stately and pretty is cool, but just as you can only stare at a Monet painting for so long before you get bored shitless, so this album starts dragging near the end of it's running time. Again though, credit where credit's due- 50 minutes is a good length here. 78 minutes would be hard to take.. it's a good length.
I like this album. It has some gorgeous moments, there's no questioning that; the guy behind Arsaidh can sure as hell generate a beautiful little soundscape. I guess it is good- just be aware of what you're getting into here; loud, bombastic and super sentimental- it's not as sappy as Alcest but it's certainly not that fair from it. Nonetheless, I recommend it.

IslanderNCS, June 8th, 2013 

It's probably inevitable that associations will be drawn between England's Winterfylleth and Scotland's Àrsaidh. Both bands play what might be called atmospheric, folk-influenced black metal. Both bands take the ancient heritage of their respective countries as the inspiration for their music and the focus of their lyrics. And the music of both bands is dramatic and serious-minded. In light of Winterfylleth's well-earned rise to prominence, and the temptation of fans and critics to compare new bands to better-known ones, I'd be surprised if the comparison weren't made. Hell, I think I just did it myself. At a high level, all those similarities exist, and I would add one more: Àrsaidh's debut album Roots is as deserving of attention as The Threnody of Triumph and The Mercian Sphere. In fact, Roots is downright brilliant. But there are important differences, too -- beyond the fact that both albums come from cultures that have warred with each other for longer than they've (ostensibly) been united.
Roots really is deeply atmospheric, but it doesn't rely on riffs or hard-hitting rhythmic movement. For most of the time in the album's very long songs there's a background wash of tremolo-driven distortion -- rising, falling, sometimes almost pulsating -- and racing, rolling, tumbling drumwork. This provides the bottom layer of these multi-faceted songs, to which Àrsaidh adds simple but affecting melodies that are carried by a variety of instruments -- acoustic and electric guitar, piano, echoing flutes, synthesized strings (sometimes in the movement of a soaring chorus, sometimes the soulful voice of a single violin). The spare melodies range from wistful to mournful to rousing and defiant. They're driven into the listener's mind through prolonged repetition. When combined with the power of the roaring, grinding guitar and bass and the changing drum patterns, they gave the music an almost cinematic scope and sweep, which befits Àrsaidh's attempt to capture in the music the dramatic landscapes of the Scottish Highlands and the assorted tragedies visited upon its resilient people through time. They are musical tales of blood, loss, honor, and pride.
Carefully chosen moments of calm and relative quiet segment the music, those moments occupied by such things as the strumming of acoustic guitar, the slow thump of the bodhrán, the interplay of shimmering keyboards and bass, and a whispering voice. The album's short third track, which follows seamlessly from the second and leads seamlessly into the final one, is nothing but the sounds of a cold wind blowing through a mountain pass. These interludes last just long enough to lull the listener into a state of contemplation -- before the music erupts again like thunder. The songs are largely instrumental. When the vocals come in, they're like a distant, harsh roaring, as if impassioned proclamations are being howled at you from the other end of a long, vaulted hall. (Slow, distant, subdued clean vocals also make a brief appearance in the album's closer, "A Highland Lament").
Epic in its sweep and entrancing in its emotional appeal, Roots is an album that should be heard in a single sitting. It provides an immersive experience that manages to avoid monotony despite the length of the songs and their dependence on the repetition of musical patterns. It's a kind of black metal that's neither icy nor cold despite the sense of loss that pervades the melodies. It does justice to the heritage of old Alba and it should quickly elevate Àrsaidh into the ranks of atmospheric black metal bands to watch very closely.

(Review originally published here: http://www.nocleansinging.com/2013/06/08/arsaidh-roots/)

Metantoine, May 18th, 2013 

"Evoking ancestral wisdom, I stand hypnotised"

The man behind Askival, after a short inclusion in Alcest wannabees Falloch, came back to his roots (pun intended) with this album. My expectations were high when I learned that Andy Marshall had a new project and it wasn't post rock/shoegaze. When I saw the gorgeous cover art decorated by the logo full of trees, I was hoping for the best and boy, I wasn't disappointed. The scenery on the album art is, well you can see it, but the snowy peaks and the dark sky reminds me of both the remote places in Scotland and a surreal, almost martian setting. Painting an accurate portrait of the sound, the art reflects the sadness found in the music. Expect great things because Roots is an amazing record and the best thing the atmospheric folk/black genre has to offer in 2013.
The album, a 50 minutes journey to Scotland's countryside, is composed of 3 very lengthy numbers and a short 2 minutes interlude. The long songs are giving the musician the time to let grow the trees he threw seeds for. There's gorgeous and expanded atmospheric parts with folkloric instruments that can really live on their own without the need for a lot of vocals. Indeed, the focal point of Àrsaidh is the flow of the music, the sixteen, thirteen and seventeen minutes songs are long and soothing rivers that you cross on the raft you found on a riverbank. You definitely have the required time to admire the River Tweed without having to fear the mouth of the wild North Sea. Hell, the first title track has no vocals for the first 6 minutes and it doesn't freaking matter with Àrsaidh. Maybe for the more impatient people, the task will be arduous but the whole release is truly rewarding when you take the time to enjoy the album. It works as background music too (I like to study with music and I'll be able to with this project) and it's never boring. The amount of craft in the songwriting is without a doubt the highlight of Roots and for a solo band that's definitely impressing.
Roots, while having a copious amount of atmospheric tendencies and even a post rock baggage, really has a worthy amount of black metal influences. Probably not enough for the pure warriors resting in their Norwegian fjords though. But for someone such as myself who enjoys bands like Winterfylleth or Agalloch, I can enjoy a varied album like Roots without any corpse paint issues. The atmospheric/post is to me, the cement which holds this album together, it gives a much needed bond between the folk instruments and the metal elements. I rarely heard such a talented blend of sounds, it's subtle and done tastefully while never crossing the Cheese Kingdom. That's certainly good for Scottish metal, I'm sure they prefer to be represented by Àrsaidh than these silly pirates in Alestorm. There's a lot of bagpipes, acoustic guitars, violin and keyboards but it's all so cohesive and integrated in a well thought formula that even if you're not fond of folk metal, you'll have no problem with the album.
Although I think there's a shortage of riffs to be found, it doesn't mean that it's not enjoyable. The music is slow and mournful and are relying on repetition to move the listeners and it works very well. There's melodic simple leads such as the one in Roots and it gives a grand epic feel to the music evoking at times the atmosphere you can find in a band like Summoning. The vocals are pretty damn good too, there's no full on clean eruptions and they're not that present but when they are, it's awesome. Andy is using an harsh throaty voice and it fits the post metal side of the band because it's somewhat near the way atmospheric sludge bands are singing. There's some clean chanting such as the start of the second track Carved in Stone, one of my complaints is that I wanted more of these epic vocals as I'm an huge sucker for these and Primordial fan but it's still a mild criticism. It doesn't detained my enjoyment as it's really an amazing album and it's establishing Andy Marshall as the de facto king of Scottish metal or at least I would support him as I would also support the national referendum in Scotland in 2014. 
Talking of Scotland's national question, the lyrical approach of Àrsaidh is similar to the one of many English bands, it's mainly about the Celtic cultural heritage and it's written in a sorrowful way. Taking inspiration from classic poetry, the lyrics are subtle and reflects the dramatic history of this northern region of the United Kingdom. Furthermore, I can notice the similarity between Québec and the sake of Scotland. Both in the black metal's lyrical research and the history of assimilation, conquest and divide. And this only adds to my appreciation of Roots. While I'm transported into a land of mountain and rivers, I feel my feeling of belonging to the universe increased. While I'm not quite a nationalist for the sake of it and I'm often divided between the archaic concept of nation and human rights and freedom, I like this approach and I know where he's going with it. "We are sorrow's children /Torn from Alba's womb /A reflection of fallen martyrs The lifeblood of this land "
A superb production is decorating the long and excellent dirges. Àrsaidh is a good (well, no excellent) compromise in the atmospheric black metal scene. It's more epic than Fen, more folky than Winterfylleth and better, less cheesy than Wodensthrone. If you're looking for a fast paced album full of catchy anthems, look elsewhere. This album is pure sorrow and it's a perfect mastery of a folky yet dark atmosphere. One of the jewels of 2013, that's for sure.

Check the review on my blog!

caspian, January 15th, 2017 

"Aura" is the equivalent of being injected with high fructose corn syrup until you die of diabetes.

Where to start? Where to start. Well, let's go with the tin whistles first up, because they're everywhere and they're shit. I defy anyone, including the guy who wrote this, to differentiate between a tin whistles line in any of the songs on here. You would've heard it a hundred times before; the intro to Celine Dion's Titanic contribution, possibly every minute of the Braveheart OST, at those shit old new age stores with the CD samplers that sell incense and coffee enemas. There's about 1432 moments (is that hyperbole? I thought it was, but it might be dead on) where the songs build and before you know it, tin whistles over blastbeats. These moments, these attempted "big dramatic moments" are so obvious, so predictable that you can see them coming from space. Tin whistles sound cool! But not when they're reprising the titanic theme over blasts beats, and doing it about 300 times every song.

A quick mention on the blastbeats. Now, I quite like Lunn's drumming. I quite like Panopticon. Not at any point, however, does his fierce, often manic performance fit the music- it's an obvious session performance from someone who must've thought they were drumming for a far more intense band, when really it's just new age music with a few guitars. Pillars of the Earth is a good enough example- Lunn beats the shit out of the kit, perhaps completely unaware that he's competing with a nuts amount of strings and wordless female vocals, all of which are louder in the mix then the drums. You remember that "This drummer is at the wrong gig" that went big on youtube however many years back? Here it is, in audio form, wearing a kilt.

Simply put it seems like the songwriter didn't have a single aim beyond "pretty". It's nice to have nice sounding, consonant parts, I totally get that. But without contrast it ends up totally, utterly meaningless. I'm reminded of bands that I used to (perhaps still do) really, really love- Hammock and Sigur Ros- whose music was always best when it was "Pretty but____". Pretty but unsettling. Pretty but super depressing. Pretty, but with a good narrative flow to the song. Pretty, but with a long and interesting prelude before the payoff. Pretty, but with a few dissonant parts to keep it from being too new agey. 

Here, we have pretty. Very little else. We have guitars in the mix- somewhere, and rarely playing a single interesting thing. Chord progressions posing as riffs, some sort of Cascadian-meets-Bergtatt diluted to homeopathic levels. Tin whistles by the shitload. A huge amount of string and cooing, ahhing female vocals that do nothing- absolutely nothing- but wash out the guitar even more. A super ill fitting drum performance. Now, it's a bit much to expect an ex-falloch member to drop a Deathspell Omega section halfway in, but something, anything to break the saccharine monotony would've been cool. A part where things riff super hard. A recycled Darkthrone-lite riff. A bit of restraint before bringing out the ol' Tin Whistles 'n' Blastbeats chestnut. Anything! Sure Scotland has kick ass highlands, but it also has all of Glasgow and the shittest climate in the solar system, including the sun. Some contrast would've made this album so, so much better. But there's none, and thus it's shit- this light speed Enya rip with some half arsed growls thrown in.

Anyway, I know this year is only two weeks old, but I'm fairly confident that this is going to be the worst thing I'll hear all year.

dipym666, November 17th, 2014 
Written based on this version: 2014, CD, Northern Silence Productions (Limited edition, Digipak)

One man black metal bands (or their sub variants) are often something that I take with a pinch of salt. The one man force behind SAOR; Andy Marshall is Scottish and if that doesn’t give you a clue about the subject matter and his influences then Aura will because it is truly a journey through Scottish legacy and the country’s natural beauty. Aura is delivered with a patriotic fervor and yet includes the sensitivity and an inherent splendor that is the result of a man’s hard work who is truly loves his job and country. I daresay, if you let your mind wander and absorb the Celtic melodies, the images of the misty highlands appear out of thin air.

First of all, it’s the Celtic instrumentation that is primarily dominant across the album along with chants and clean vocals (female vocals included). The atmospheric black metal elements running behind the dominant sound add a very powerful vibe to the gigantic melodies. ‘Children of the Mist’ invokes images of a march of medieval Scottish tribes on their way to battle. The up-tempo drumming and riffing with chants running behind screams of passion certainly does stamp that effect on the listener. Then the song changes its course and runs along a trail of Celtic melody for sometime before getting back to the fast parts. By in large, these long melody driven passages are the highlight of the album; case in point – the title song ‘Aura’, which is a beautiful exercise in melody. ‘The Awakening’ imbibes choir like chants and clean melodies before female vocals make their appearance and render another layer of beauty to the song. If the Scottish flavor till this juncture wasn’t strong enough, ‘The Awakening’ pays tribute to poet Robert Burns’ depiction of Scotland’s beauty in ‘My Heart's In The Highlands’ which was written in 1789. The song picks off passages from the poem, and an overdose of flute driven melody make it truly magnificent. The feverish atmosphere present in the first song ‘Children of the Mist’ returns once again in ‘Pillars of the Earth’ before settling into an acoustic section and opening up once again in truly spectacular fashion.

SAOR weaves a truly majestic sound, one that is driven first and foremost by the heart. The heavy usage of traditional Celtic instruments is not a gimmick nor is cheesy, but is a focused attempt to create a melodic atmosphere of gigantic proportions. So, from the side of instrumentation we have the rhythm guitar, tremolo picking, acoustics and wind instruments gelling together in cohesion. On the other hand; shrieks, clean and female vocals are inserted at the right parts and are not overdone. Aura impacts and drives imagination, more so in an open mind where there are no walls between the listener and it’s beautifully crafted music. Needless to say, the album is truly moving. Submit your senses to its beauty.

Also written for www.metalbase.in

Twin_guitar_attack, July 20th, 2014 

For the second album Aura from the Scottish one man atmospheric black metal project Saor, Andrew Marshall has enlisted help of a host of guest musicians, and created an astonishingly vibrant and epic take on the genre. As majestic as this style of music gets, through epic Celtic melodies and expressive black metal, Aura takes you on a journey to the Scottish highlands and the battles that ensued there in ages gone by.

Saor weave a majestic sound throughout the album. Choppy riffs make their way through the release in true black metal fashion, catchy, melodic and with the requisite trebly distortion the choppy style is very powerful. Tremolo picked riffs also make their way through in the release, used to add dazzling shimmering leads to Soar’s great atmosphere. Add a militant, pounding drumming performance, and it really invokes the atmosphere of a medieval battle for freedom. The performance behind the sticks is really fantastic, whether militantly rhythmic, slow and expressive, or blasting it’s way at speed, the way it fits in with all the twists and turns of the album is fantastic. The bass also gels so well with the rest of the music, the deep soft tone adds another cathartic hypnotising layer to the brilliant music. With vocals coming in the form of low pitched screams, the energy behind them resonates with as much power as the music, really filled with emotion, especially as they’re not used particularly frequently. With soft gorgeous female cleans and male chants on the opening track Children of the Mist a folky quality comes through, giving it that extra sincerity.

What really sets Saor apart is their use of strings – they’re incredibly beautiful and stirring, playing gorgeous slow melodies, really gelling incredibly well in the softer sections, and speeding up to add a mesmerizing layer of sound to the faster sections. The melodies they use are so incredibly catchy that they will stick in the mind for hours after the album finishes. Their use is not a gimmick, they’re an entrancingly beautiful part of the whole atmosphere Saor creates. Using tin whistles, strings, viola and Bodhrán, the traditional elements that really invoke the powerful Scottish atmosphere are used superbly alongside the metal music to make a very complete, gorgeous atmosphere.

The way Saor builds their songs is fantastic too, and one of the other things that makes the album stand out. The lead guitar running through the introduction to title track Aura, flowing majestically through a current of distorted rhythm guitar, fast blastbeats and strings is one of the best examples of how fantastic Saor are at building a track. The way the traditional wind instruments come in and add to what already sounded like a beautifully crafted piece of music, and just takes it all up another notch, shows how great he is at building and evolving his songs. In the middle of the track it breaks down into a soft section of gorgeous acoustic guitar, with percussion from the traditional drum the Bodhrán, the strings eventually coming in to add that extra power, before it all kicks back of again with really inventive drumming, prior to a fantastic wave of harsh tremolo picked riffing comes back to the mix, and it’s devastating. The main melody from the wind instrument comes in and out over the cours of the song, adding that grounding to the piece that otherwise evolves so naturally and freely. Weaving between different tempos, letting each instrument take over the lead in different sections, the song length is over 13 minutes long, yet it remains constantly invigorating and full of power.

Whether it’s the beautiful chanted melodies on The Awakening, the haunting female cleans on Children of the Mist, the incredibly varied drums throughout or the power of the choppy riffs, or the captivating strings on Aura, the variation and expert crafting used for each song means that there’s not one dull moment in 56 minutes of music here. Five songs of eleven minutes and length, and each one is incredibly well constructed, taking you on a journey through the Scottish highlands and all the beauty and history that entails. Each track has it’s own identity, yet the same brilliant sound flows from the start to the finish of this outstanding album. You won’t find a better atmospheric black metal album than Aura this year, Saor have released the sort of mind blowing original album that doesn’t come along very often. Incredibly sincere, stirring and sublime, Aura is definitely a must have for fans of atmospheric black metal, and an absolute gem of an album.

Originally written for swirlsofnoise.com

eyes_of_apocalypse, June 23rd, 2014 
Written based on this version: 2014, Digital, Fortriu Productions

Burly warriors shouting from the top of the distant mountains, the sound of a thousand soldiers marching on to the mountains singing battle hymns, their footsteps pounding like drums, and a hundred bards gathering their instruments to play a tune that will turn this battle into folklore, while wood sprites and faeries help them compose their melodies. This is Saor.

Atmospheric black metal is... well, it's monotonous, to be quite honest. It plods and drags, rarely entertaining, rarely absorbing the listener (or at least me) into it's swirling haze. It take something special for a band to know how to pull just the right tricks to dream up an atmosphere others could sink into the way the musicians wanted. Saor not only knows these tricks, but he's managed to make himself a master of them, because I've never listened to an atmospheric black metal album that whisks me away into its bleak, pale atmosphere the way Aura does.

Taking heavy cues from Moonsorrow in its delivery while sounding similar to Summoning if Summoning replaced the fantasy music with Celtic folk [metal], Saor delivers an album that's just as much dreamy as it is heavy. One of atmospheric BM's hugest pitfalls is its lack of edge; many bands focusing on the atmosphere forget they're still a metal band in the process. Saor does not. Drums pound away like cannons firing from the mountains. Vocalist, composer, and sole band member Andy Marshall wails and growls deep in the mix as if he's somewhere far off in the land, echoing battle cries or mourning aloud for the burning of his homeland. The guitars are heavy and mournful, sounding as if a hint or two has been taken from Primordial at times with its deep yet dissonant, blistering chug that rings the land of its Scottish forefathers.

And while the album definitely has an edge I don't commonly hear out of atmospheric BM, it's the dreamy nature that seals its efficiency. The whirlwind of flute, violin, strings, and other Celtic instruments that run rampant through the album creates a murky, otherworldly atmosphere akin to Summoning - listening to this makes me feel like I stepped a few hundred years back in time to the world of medieval Scotland. Moments of blast beats and tremolo assaults are contrasted with down times of beauty I'd hear out of an Enya album or The Lord of the Rings soundtrack, and every song has moments of flawless interplay between the two distinct halves in a sharpened duality of glorious, Moonsorrow-esque climaxes.

It's hard to maintain an identity in an world of copycats and clones where everybody looks the same, sounds the same, and has the same tricks and talents. Atmospheric black metal has been pulling the same stunts since the days of early Ulverand Burzum. Folk metal, although a genre I love, has become increasingly stale in its attempt to do the same thing for a thousand albums now, and, through over-exposure, I've found myself forgetting what it is I love about the genre to begin with as it lost its own identity as well. Aura reinvigorates my love of folk and reminds me why it was one of my favorite genres to begin with, and Saor is a project that gives worth to this copycat by infusing a sense of patriotic pride for the motherland that seems feigned to at least some degree in all of Saor's contemporaries. Neither ABM nor folk metal are played anymore with the authenticity you'll hear out of this album, and you're doing yourself a great disservice by missing it.

PassiveMetalhead, December 31st, 2016 
Written based on this version: 2016, CD, Northern Silence Productions

To the north of the U.K lies unique and picturesque scenery. There, you can bask in the spectacular sights of Scotland’s numerous Lochs, with their smaller siblings of pools and meandering glens dotted around the rolling hills of the Highlands. Further north, the tranquil lochs gradually expand into imposing spines of mountains that stand adjacent to golden beaches, dense forestation and turbulent waves that crash into the distant nomadic isles across the sea. 

Andy Marshall, the multi-instrumentalist brains behind Celtic black metal Saor, values the unique elegance and rich culture that has forged Scotland’s rugged land better than most. The tartan of Saor is fabricated from the history, geography and culture of the location in which it was conceived. As with Saor’s two preceding albums, “Roots” and “Aura”, Marshall continues to bond with something larger than the mortal spirit of man and attempts to carve deeper into the heart of the Highlands on “Guardians”.

Despite tight production, expert song-writing and meticulous attention to detail, the general expression that “Guardians” resonates is a sense of freedom. The average song length is about 11 minutes, which is ample time to allow the music to breathe and progress naturally. However, the bane of songs with long durations is the crucial requirement to keep an audience captivated. The structures of the 5 songs on “Guardians” appear repetitive, but Marshall’s ability to subtly steer the course of the songs into different territories is a testament to his skilled craftsmanship as a musician. ‘The Declaration’ commences with energised tremolo while dipping into pools of folksy fiddle, bagpipes and flutes; all of which are native to Scotland’s heritage. After a brief, bleak intermission, the song explodes into a gorgeous crescendo where the fiddles and bagpipes are in full march. ‘Tears of a Nation’ also features a repetitious structure where dancing folk and sorrowful metal take precedence. However, the advantage of Marshall layering both of these elements simultaneously, revealing each in equal measure, allows both forces combine efforts in a heightened assault of compelling emotional outbursts during the climactic ending.

Certain moments of the album express specific feelings that make the content of “Guardians” so emotive and cinematic; like any of Saor’s music for that matter. The strained strings and despondent riffs in ‘Autumn Rain’ emit a mournful tone as Marshall’s fervent lyrics detail a swelling tribute to fallen warriors. But as always, it’s the subtle changes that draw you in further. As the lyrics become more proud, the music follows suite with galloping drums and embracing female cries. Arguably, the ceremonious ‘Hearth’ is the most emotive composition here and is a true tear-jerker. It proceeds through ancient causeways of delicate folk and racing tremolo, but then the song cascades into Marshall’s clean vocals which echo a sincere adoration for his motherland. It’s difficult not to be moved over the vivid imagery of Scotland’s proud reputation that Saor artistically paints us.

Simply put, this album is atmospheric black metal with intricate folksy elements woven into the fabric of the album. Nevertheless, it’s clear that upon first listen to the aptly named title track, “Guardians” is as expansive as the landscapes it is inspired by and as prevailingly prideful as the Scottish heritage that the album has been wrought by. 

Originally posted on http://www.sputnikmusic.com/review/72535/Saor-Guardians/

dystopia4, December 17th, 2016 

I have to admit that I was a bit hesitant about the new Saor album. This is largely because Aura was so impossibly good. That album holds a very special place in my heart and going on numerous hikes in the Rockies with Aura being my soundtrack is something I will never forget as long as I live. Needless to say, it is a tough act to follow. Aura was the perfection of the sound started in Roots and to do a third album along the same lines could end up an act of redundancy. To make matter worse, Panopticon mastermind Austin Lunn was no longer behind the kit. His unique and enigmatic style is a massive part of what made Aura so good, and is probably the best drum performance of his entire career. 

So how does this stand up to one of the greatest atmospheric folk metal albums of all time? Well, it doesn't outdo Aura but does prove itself to be a very capable successor. The sound isn't too far removed from what we have come to expect from Saor. As per usual, the songs are long and epic, bringing to life the majesty of the Scottish highlands. Saor is billed as a one man band, but this is only half true. While it is wholly the brainchild of Andy, he has a drummer and a host of session musicians at his disposal. The additional instrumentation is a large part of what sets Saor apart. Here, Saor has strings, fiddle, bagpipes and bodhrán (not going to lie, had to look that one up - it's a traditional goatskin Irish frame drum - pretty fucking cool!). The additional instrumentation widens the scope of the album by a staggering degree and the bagpipes and flute do a lot to give it a distinctly Scottish flavour. 

All these bells and whistles are well and good, but they wouldn't mean shit if the metal wasn't good. It would be like an expired $4 grocery store steak served with caviar and gold flakes. Well fret not, because the meat of the music is juicy and full. The metal is drawn out and bombastic, and this is a rare case of metal not really needing to rely on big riffs, instead drawing out grand soundscapes with metal providing the backbone. The leads here are fantastic, with the repeating melody at the end of album-closing "Tears of a Nation" being astoundingly moving and uplifting - I'd be very, very surprised if it wasn't plucked from a traditional folk song. The way the lead is repeated for minutes at the end of the song reminds me of Agalloch's "Into the Painted Grey", and a few of the leads on Gaurdians actually are pretty reminiscent of some on Marrow of the Spirit. 

Recorded in cottages in Isle of Skye and Cairndow, this is another grandiose testament to Andy's native Scotland. Being more drawn out and about showcasing wonderful non-metal instrumentation than Aura, this is another excellent offering from Andy. I have to wonder where he'll go from here - this album seems like the end of a trilogy to me. Roots laid down the framework, Aura perfected it, and Gaurdians experimented with it. I hope it's something a bit different, but I'm sure he'll find a way to do something worthwhile. Gaurdians shows Saor once again leading the pack for atmospheric folk metal.

Grumpy Cat, December 15th, 2016 

Guardians is the third release from Saor and my formal introduction to the project and may I just say that it is stunningly beautiful. The mixture of celtic instrumentation in contrast to the atmospheric metal approach creates a sound that is serene and positive.

First and foremost this album is about the instrumentals and the effect they produce, the vocals are only used in short passages and rather sparingly however the deep growls that come forth are well executed even if I have no idea what he was saying. The guitar and bass take back stage against flutes and the like which paint some amazing and down right epic melodies such as the closing bit for "The Declaration". The guitar work consists primarily of long tremolo picking sections. The rest of the riffs are played when the folk melodies aren't so prominent and are generally more rhythmic in nature or they echo the melodies adding to the effect such as the end for "The Declaration" before the guitar does some screechy noodling. The melodies are beautiful and infectiously catchy finding themselves playing on loop in my head for days at a time. I wish I could say which instruments do what part but I don't have all that good of a knowledge for instruments but I'm very confident that flutes and violins play a pivotal piece of it all. The drumming is complementary and reserved, generally a lot of double pedal and cymbal work or a gallop like in "Autumn Rain", mostly only catching the ear when a good fill finds its way to front stage.

Production wise I think the album is precisely where it should be, the vocals and the drums don't distract. The tracks are well polished without being overproduced, nothing raw about them. The guitars and the traditional instruments intertwine and though the tracks are a bit lengthy they never drag or become dull, quick and rapid changes are always introduced in such a way that the release is unpredictable and never grows stagnant but also can be thoroughly absorbed and appreciated on the first listen. I'd say this is a strong contender for album of the year.

RapeTheDead, December 14th, 2016 

I was fairly confident that Saor weren’t going to disappoint with Guardians, but at the same time I worried that my overall enjoyment of the album was going to take a bit of a hit without the frenetic drumming of Austin Lunn. He had this way of injecting tons of energy into a folk metal groove on songs like “Children of the Mist” and “Pillars of the Earth” that added more meat to the naturally light and airy aesthetic of Saor. Whenever you write a great album, there’s always the pressure to top it, even moreso when a new member is added. Bryan Hamilton, however, is already fairly established with his work in Barshkasketh and Cnoc an Tursa, and based on the latter band’s sound in particular it’s easy to see why Marshall thought he would be a good fit for his project. 

Something about Guardians feels a little bit different right off the bat. Much of it could be attributed to the new drummer, but not all of it. Maybe it’s the vocals, which are more pronounced in the mix than they have been before, which gives them a bit of a scratchy, gravelly tone as opposed to the distant roar that characterized previous Saor albums. Still, though, this is Marshall’s pet project and he hasn’t deviated much from his core formula since it began, so the differences aren’t merely a result of lineup changes and production tweaks. Guardians sounds much more solemn and pensive than previous work by the band, and does require a bit of a reframe at first, but in the end, the results are even more rewarding. 

Guardians is more of a grower than a shower for a couple of reasons. First, unlike Aura, this doesn’t come bursting out of the gate with triumphant energy. “Autumn Rain”, though a full song in its own right, is very gradual and is essentially just a full version of those obligatory intro tracks every metal band has at the beginning of the album. Even when “The Declaration” kicks in, the blastbeats sound steadier and calmer than Hamilton’s work in Cnoc an Tursa. Though the most energetic song on the album, one still gets the impression that Saor’s still building into something even bigger. Even the title track feels like ait just sets the stage for this now-30-minutes-long introduction. 

The slow bloom of Guardians has a lot to do with the violins, flutes, and other bagpipes present. Saor has always had these elements in their music and have always avoided making them look like a gimmick. There’s always been plenty of room for them to breathe, and it never seems like they were thrown in just because Marshall had a few flautist and violinist buddies who really wanted to play on the album or something. However, with Guardians, all the extra instruments no longer feel like a tertiary layer woven into the music; at this point, they’re the driving force behind the album. That seems really strange to say about a folk/black metal band, especially because the metal elements are still in the foreground as they always have been. There never really seems to be a point, though, where the metal elements carry this on their own; the flutes have more detailed melodies and feel more involved in the music, the violins do a lot to slowly let the tension grow, and the whenever the bagpipes come in you know something big is about to happen—and when they come in on “Tears of a Nation”, they ARE the climax. Strangely enough, though there is only one core member of Saor, it never feels as though he wants to hog the spotlight of his own band. If anything, he actively avoids it as much as he can and gives the session musicians every opportunity they can to shine, and Guardians is so much better for that. 

At first, the slow build of the first three tracks seems agonizing, but once “Hearth” kicks in, the wait immediately becomes worth it. Right away, it settles into that warm tremolo and rolling groove that Saor captured my heart with a few years ago, and when the flute melody and the clean chorus kicks in with Marshall singing “there’s nowhere I’d rather be…this is my home”, man do you ever believe that shit. “Tears of a Nation” just keeps the momentum going and though at first the slow sense of growth might have seemed a bit awkward compared to the joyful energy of the band’s previous work, during the latter half of the album the band sounds much more comfortable in their own skin. The ordering of the tracks feels very intentional in that sense. Aura felt more like a collection of songs (some really good songs, mind you) but no one track on Guardians feels complete on its own. You really do have to listen to the whole thing all the way through to get the full picture. Though this doesn’t have as many specific moments that stand out, Guardians feels much more complete and well-rounded than anything they have done before, and by the end of the album you’ll feel a little bit exhausted, but nonetheless satisfied. Andy Marshall has matured a lot since his days in Falloch, and with that comes changes in the style of his composition, but barring some sort of drastic change in style or vision, Saor looks content to remain at the top of the atmospheric folk metal heap.

(Originally written for the Metal Observer)

Wake up early in the freezing cold and scrub your face with numb hands, groping your way around your tiny house, finding icy surfaces by touch. Set out before first light, following the valley path that rises slowly from the greenery between the hills until the vegetation runs out and the path narrows to nothing. Feel the rush of the wind as it buffets your face, chilling you despite the warmth gained by your steps, a little mizzling rain lashing out as you reach the peak and look down into the darkness. You catch your breath while you wait for the sun to come up and, when it does, your heart roars out as you stand alone.

However, save yourself the trouble of finding a hut in the Scottish Highlands and listen to Forgotten Paths instead, because Saor (really just Andy Marshall) knows how that feels and can describe it almost exactly with pure music. As an added bonus, he’ll also throw in the sense of peace and wonder at following a stream along the cheek of that same hill, a whimsical wander through an ancient, silent pine forest, and an evening close to the fire with a man you’ve known all your life. Although Forgotten Paths can be narrowed down to a few key genre terms, the experience is really all about emotion, and that comes pouring off the shimmering black metal riffing, contemplative piano and guitar downtime, and the sheer freedom of the Gaelic violin and whistle like a crystal clear waterfall weathering a boulder. The album’s sense of dynamics unveils surprise after surprise, with each twist and turn offering a different perspective, although the landscape should be familiar to those who have journeyed with Saor before, or the likes of Panopticon and Sojourner.

Saor has always seemed resolutely Scottish and Forgotten Paths is no exception, differentiating itself from the North American Cascadian movement by way of the folk instrumentation and lyrics borrowed from the poetry of Neil Munro and William Renton. Nonetheless, the sound of Saor going alternately at epic full blast and nostalgic low ebb may give the hint all by itself. Despite some fans looking askance at a 38 minute running time and only three major songs (‘Exile’ feels a lot like an outro instrumental), a single listen to the album should silence any grumbling. This is a beautiful adventure.


Originally written for Metalegion #5 - www.metalegion.com

Though the Irish Christianisation of Scotland, and assumed conglomeration with the Gaels, would prove a greater detriment to the cultural traditions throughout the region later on, the ‘Pictish’ folk of the late Iron Age would band together as an unnamed but collaborative confederation of peoples in new medieval times to spite the growing invasion of Rome throughout the continent. Seven Pictish kingdoms sported warriors, said to have been tattooed or painted, who would engage and wear down every Roman campaign with what amounts to guerrilla warfare as they’d come. Septimius Severus most famously lead one of the bloodiest with his invasion of Caledonia (Scotland) between 208-210 CE. Severus and his son would eventually turn to genocide, eliminating entire clans that would not submit; Perhaps by some stroke of luck the political pressure from the sudden sickness and eventual death of Severus would inadvertently call off any further invasion or massacre. The early history of Scotland is no less trampled upon by invaders who often cruelly erased their artistic and cultural past through punitive expedition and conquest. A proud people, defined by necessary resistance, faced with centuries of callousness appear yet empowered by their land even today where the short-sighted homogenization of humanity appears just as Romanesque as it did thousands of years ago. Moved by ancient history and the scars left upon the land today Àrsaidh formed from Glasgow musician Andy Marshall‘s deep appreciation for the intertwining of his own heritage and the natural beauty of Scotland herself.

With the shift from Àrsaidh (Archaic) to Saor (Freedom) Marshall struck upon a genius balance of then-brimming atmospheric black metal instrumentation and Celtic folk melodicism with his second full-length ‘Aura’ (2014) with some additional boost in notoriety thanks to the employ of musician Austin Lunn (Panopticon, Seidr) on session drums. It seemed to be a new height for naturalist atmospheric/folk metal that’d arisen with influence from the Cascadian black metal and neofolk movements but looking back what lasting effect it carries comes from the use of indigenous melody and instrumentation. Folk metal surely carries a comical reputation among the less invested due to the jocular affect of many Norse hitmakers of the early 2000’s but ‘Aura’ used that folk instrumentation to heighten the atmospheric value of the modern, cinematic black metal style employed. In this sense both ‘Aura’ and the phenomenal follow-up ‘Guardians’ (2016) were equally indebted to violinist John Becker (Panopticon, Waldgeflüster, Austaras) and whomever worked in the use of tin flute lead melody. For my own taste ‘Guardians’ represented a triumph over the generally lacking musical value of atmospheric black metal’s post-rock influenced movements and as such I’ve retained that interest in Saor in anticipation of ‘Forgotten Paths’.

The fourth full-length from Saor comes bearing new performers in legacy-strengthening collaboration that will inevitably begin to feel all too brief for the expectant fan. At less than 40 minutes, the arc of the record appears as if haunted by a phantom limb. Where the respite of Gloria Lyr and Mirko Albanese ‘s instrumental “Exile” would normally give way to one last grand epic closer, ‘Forgotten Paths’ simply ends in quietude. For my own personal taste this brevity is actually a point of gratitude, though I loved the immersive quality of ‘Guardians’, as the record plays on a much more successful loop for those of us who must let the entire album unfold in one sitting. The title track is more of a triumph than expected as it should remind the listener of ‘Roots’ more than the two albums previous. The poetry of Neil Munro‘s more serious side (also featured on “Bròn”) is fitting for the rising post-rock progression set atop a more succinct and refined atmospheric black metal treatment. The inclusion of Niege (ex-Amesoeurs, Alcest) on this opener is neither here nor there for me as I do not find his vocal work distinct but, I do appreciate the subtle clean vocals as they appear. With three 10+ minute tracks comprising majority of the listening experience there is a bit too much pressure put on an average track like “Monadh” and the album would feel a bit mediocre if not for the grand sorrowful epic of “Bròn”. There is a feeling of writers block, or perhaps some bit of personal duress, that clouds ‘Forgotten Paths’ and as such I felt it more of a curation of ideas rather than a powerful execution of concept, at least compared to previous works.

As an embodiment of spiritual, naturalist atmospheric black metal I think ‘Guardians’ still stands as the main event in Saor‘s history but, I’d almost recommend ‘Forgotten Paths’ more enthusiastically to newcomers and folks who never paid close attention to the project before. It is a fantastic and impressive introduction that almost doesn’t stick around long enough once you’re familiar with the level of immersion that’d come prior. On a purely objective level there is an uncanny sensitivity among the grandeur of ‘Forgotten Paths’ that should offer some wide appeal beyond folks such as myself, who are inherently attracted to the melody and sorrow of their own highland heritage. My recommendation comes a bit lower than expected and not for lack of quality but for the thirst it leaves me with. Moderate recommendation. For preview I’d suggest the title track or simply watch the gorgeous video for “Bròn”.

Attribution: http://grizzlybutts.com/2019/02/06/saor-forgotten-paths-2019-review/

Among the hordes of black metal bands that have arisen from the UK in the past decade or so, like Ninkharsag or Winterfylleth, the Scottish one-man project Saor is the most sonically creative. Since his first full-length, Roots, back in 2013, Andy Marshall has been the sole proprietor of the Saor name, performing all instruments and vocals for all four albums - including this year's Forgotten Paths. I was never in any doubt of what would emerge from this effort; lengthy, atmospheric black metal compositions replete with beautiful soaring folk melodies and stunning album art to match. I was not wrong. Andy seems incapable of writing low-quality music. Admittedly, I was initially disappointed at this album's length. Forgotten Paths is at least 13 minutes shorter than his next shortest album, and it rides the fine line between anticipation and dissatisfaction.

That's my main gripe with the record. Sometimes it ends with me feeling mindblown and emotionally drained but, more often than not, I feel like I could do with one more colossal composition to whet my appetite. However, enough whining, because what's actually on offer here is, unsurprisingly, of superb quality. Wasting no time with introductory ambience, the title-track flattens the listener right out of the starting gate with blastbeats and tremolo-picking abound. Saor always manage to make these typically aggressive traits sound strangely uplifting and optimistic, yet wistful and melancholic at the same time. Despite being able to make comparisons to fellow countrymen and genre-buddies like Cnoc An Tursa, this really is a sound all of Saor's own. One can feel that deep devotion to the earth and its history.

The folk instruments really come into their own here. The melodies on Guardians may have been more obviously pronounced but, on Forgotten Paths, they fuse with the clamorous black metal beneath and become integral to the compositional structure of each track. In fact, the whole of the latter half of "Monadh" is built around one simple folk melody, being built up and up to a grandiose conclusion. This kind of textural crescendo feels so much more natural and Marshall has nailed the art. The other tracks are constructed differently; the title-track being more of a tertiary piece containing a celestial, almost ethereal, middle-section with a superbly contrapuntal texture. At the eight-minute mark, you won't believe that there are at least seven instruments/voices all playing different lines yet somehow all working together in sublime harmony. When this reaches its furious climax around the 9:30 point, it leaves me almost satisfyingly exhausted. Hold on to the moments like these, they are what give this album 100% replay value.

There is a nice variation of tempos and rhythms throughout the record. Full-on blastbeats contrast with more off-kilter grooves and tranquil folk sections, akin to an epic quest. The mixing job is decent. I wish the drums could be a tiny bit further back, but Marshall's growls are wonderfully distant, lead guitars wail with anguish, and flutes & fiddles leap out of the quagmire with blasts of beauty. Special praise goes to the five-minute instrumental finale, "Exile". Surely one of the most heavenly and serenely gorgeous pieces of music in this genre. Fans of Saor won't be at all surprised at how this sounds, but Forgotten Paths feels like the Scotsman's next logical step - I only hope the albums aren't getting shorter! Sure, it could probably do with one more big track, but a more beautiful black metal album you won't find this year.