SMOULDER - Witch Wife in an Alien World

Water Wars is a commanding entry point. Vibrant drum fills lay a solid foundation for Sarah Ann's reverent vocal delivery, and Smoulder waste no time drawing parallels between the epic, Game-of-Thrones-esque battle scene and what the Water Wars represent in a contemporary context. There is an underlying imperative to stand together, the fictional Wars serving as the foreseen consequence of humanity's current actions; statements on the band's Bandcamp ("Love metal, hate fascism. Death to rapists and rape culture. Destroy AI.") hint at AI data centres draining our natural resources. Strong harmonic movement in the final verse drives home the inescapable dystopia, but not without a desperate call to action. 

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Shadow of the Vulture is a slower, almost transitional track, carried on stolid, chugging guitars that float the ornate, borderline florid verses into a catchy chorus. The chorus is the star, and it is easy to envisage these chant-able hooks in bigger, more atmospheric venues.

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Slotting neatly back into the album’s worldbuilding, Noitsien Loitsu (Finnish for "witches' spell") pays homage to Norse mysticism and to Sarah Ann's experiences as a dual Canadian-Finnish citizen. The lyrics are delivered ritualistically, chanted with power, giving way to an intricate, flawlessly articulated solo by live member Bootleg Hennka, well established in Finnish black metal circles. The solo demarcates English from Finnish, splitting the song into two dialects that connect the Earth, to the self, to the witches' spell. It reads as a love letter to the ancient country and its everlasting moon.

Listeners are tripped in Crush the Neophytes with a 12/8 time signature that shifts emphasis from phrases of three to phrases of four, creating the illusion of swaying to marching without changing the scaffolding. The first half describes the discrepancy between classes and the narrative fed to the disenfranchised, calling out elites "spewing lies" that "your lack of faith turned the land asunder" whilst "smugly perched upon their overflowing coffers" (sound familiar?). The second half is a screaming, frustrated, beautiful refrain on the "absurdity" of it all, culminating in a naked, vulnerable call to "rise up". This is where Smoulder excel: clever tonal shifts sketch the horrors, then call the listener to meet them in revolution. This is not a hopeless dystopia but a turning point.

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"Solve et coagula" – dissolve and coagulate – refers to breaking something down completely before constructing something new. Empathy's Wrath does exactly that, foregrounding the same baroque-steeped chord work before giving way to force-of-nature vocals. Where Crush the Neophytes concludes bare and skeletal, Empathy's Wrath is drenched in density; a repeated motif modulates upward to build tension, blocky chords construct brick by brick, then searing solo guitar takes over. Much of the album is confrontingly honest about the state of the world to the point of near-nihilistic apathy, but the drive to keep moving comes from those who no longer can. "Remember the fallen! Remember to stand up!"

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Momentum and mourning coexist as the tempo drops into the crawling funeral dirge of Their Name Lives On, steeped in haunting vocal ornamentation, guitars yearning and retreating from each other in parallel to the feuding lovers of the lyrics. The transition into the gauzy translucency of Cathedral of Trees feels like the natural circle of life: guitars form the enclosing bones, drums the soil, vocals the twirling, falling leaves. Nature protecting those worthy of its care stands in stark contrast to the bombed-out landscape of Water Wars. The message is clear: what we care for cares for us in reciprocity.

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Smouldering Remains rounds out the album dense in ornamentation. Small-step intervals in the guitar solo feel classical, less reliant on flashy effects and showcasing clear technical mastery. The bridge pairs almost trippy rhythms with tandem vocal harmony, returning to the earlier blocky harmony and dramatic minor movements. It is, quite literally, "howl[ing] the dance of death". This is not a solo pursuit; the joy of dancing in the wreckage is contagious.

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SCORE 8.5/10

Reviewed by Charlie Fern