Winterspirt by Fen Hollen: A Frostbitten Black Metal Journey That Sticks to Your Soul
Alright, buckle up, because Winterspirt by Fen Hollen is one of those albums that sneaks up on you like a cold wind in the dead of night. Released back in 2006 from the land down under (yep, Australia), this raw black metal gem doesn’t try to impress with flashy production or big-name labels—it just hits hard and leaves its mark.
First off, let’s talk about “The Rising Of The Flames.” Man, this track feels like standing too close to a bonfire while someone whispers ancient secrets into your ear. It kicks off with these icy riffs that spiral out of control, paired with blast beats sharp enough to cut glass. What makes it stick? The way the melody shifts halfway through—like the flames themselves are alive, crackling and consuming everything around them. You don’t just hear this song; you feel it clawing at your chest. It’s chaotic but somehow hypnotic, like staring at storm clouds rolling in.
Then there’s “Call Of Ancient Blood,” which might as well be titled "How to Summon Ancestors Without Actually Knowing What You're Doing." This one’s slower, more deliberate, almost ritualistic. The vocals sound like they’re being screamed from the bottom of a frozen lake, and the droning guitars create this oppressive atmosphere that weighs you down—but in a good way? Like, yeah, you’re drowning, but damn if it isn’t beautiful. If I had to pick one track that gives me goosebumps every time, this would be it. There’s something primal about it, like it taps into memories you didn’t even know you had.
And can we take a second to appreciate how wild it is that this came outta Australia? I mean, when you think black metal, you think Norway or Sweden, right? But here’s Fen Hollen proving that frostbite isn’t a requirement for making music that chills you to the bone. No fancy label backing them either—they went full DIY with this one, and honestly, it adds to the charm. It’s unpolished, unpredictable, and all the better for it.
So yeah, Winterspirt. Not gonna lie, it ain’t perfect. Some parts feel messy, some transitions could use work, but who cares? Perfection’s overrated anyway. What matters is the vibe, and this album has it in spades. Listening to it feels like wandering through an abandoned forest in winter—lonely, kinda scary, but also kinda magical.
Oh, and here’s the kicker: after blasting this record, I started noticing crows everywhere. Everywhere. Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe Fen Hollen opened a door best left shut. Either way, worth it.
