The Nightlitany by Ethereal Faun: A Folk Metal Journey That’ll Tickle Your Ears and Poke Your Soul
So, picture this: Italy, 2009. A bunch of headbangers with a soft spot for flutes decide to release an album called The Nightlitany. Yeah, you heard me right—flutes. Ethereal Faun, flying under the radar (and their own label), crafted something that’s equal parts rock grit and woodland whimsy. If Tolkien had a Spotify playlist, this would be on repeat.
Let’s dive into it, shall we? The album kicks off with “Suffocating Night,” which is exactly what it sounds like—a moody, atmospheric gut-punch that wraps around you like a damp forest fog. It’s heavy but not in a "let’s-smash-your-face-in" way; more like a "we’re-haunting-your-dreams-and-you-kind-of-like-it" vibe. There’s this moment where the guitars drop out, leaving just haunting vocals and a flute solo so crisp you can practically smell the moss. I mean, how do they even think of stuff like this? It sticks in your brain like bubblegum in hair.
Then there’s “The Afternoon Of A Faun.” Wait, hold up—isn’t that some artsy poem or painting or something? Well, Ethereal Faun took that vibe and ran wild with it. This track feels like sunlit glades meeting thunderclouds. One second you’re all chill, swaying to dreamy acoustic strums, and the next BAM—it slaps you with a riff so chunky it could double as breakfast cereal. The contrast between light and dark here is bananas. You don’t just listen to this song; you experience it. Like, seriously, I once tried explaining it to my cat, and now he won’t stop staring at me weirdly.
Other tracks like “Archway Of Stars” and “Dewforged Fairy” keep the magic alive, blending metal growls with melodies that feel plucked straight from a medieval bard’s repertoire. Even “Ambiguos Greed” (I assume they meant Ambiguous, but hey, punk rock spelling?) has its moments of brilliance, though I did spend half the song wondering if they were singing about goblins hoarding gold or office politics. Either way, works for me.
Here’s the kicker: Ethereal Faun doesn’t reinvent the wheel here, but they sure as heck decorate it with flowers, runes, and maybe a squirrel or two. They remind us that folk metal isn’t just about drinking mead and yelling about Vikings—it’s also about telling stories that make you go, “Huh. Weird. Cool.”
Final thoughts? Listening to The Nightlitany feels like finding a secret path in the woods only to realize it leads straight to a dragon’s lair. And honestly? I kinda wish more albums were this delightfully unhinged. Now excuse me while I grab my cloak and pretend I’m part of their band.
