Blód Dyr, “Vekja”
One of the great pleasures I take in running this platform is the excitement of catching new bands and artists early, when they’re often at their most inspired and energetic. This excitement is amplified in young and niche music scenes like pagan folk, in which there’s more room for experimentation and personal expression, and when a new band (ideally) brings something new and unexpected to the table. This was the exact excitement I felt in March 2023 when I first stumbled upon a little French outfit called Bló∂ Dyr and their fresh-off-the-press EP, Reisa.
While the rumors of pagan folk’s demise have been greatly exaggerated due to the onslaught of pandemic musicians all imitating one another with little variation on stimulus tagelharpas, or the cringe-laden bands pumping Disney levels of cash into their promotional material, the truth is that there is a lot of genuinely interesting, meaningful, and fun music to be found in this quirky, yet charming counterculture. This depth to the genre hiding beneath the surface is why it maintains so much of my attention and interest not only as a fan of music but as an ethnomusicologist as well.
As you may have guessed already, all of this has to do with my experience with Bló∂ Dyr’s music since Reisa - and of course my expectations leading up to Vekja which released this March. What struck me about this band, and what stuck out through the pagan folk noise, so to speak, was how much fun their music is. In a genre that can be easily caricatured as a bunch of sweaty dudes groaning around a campfire, to quote Vévaki, to hear a band smile through their music is one hell of a breath of fresh air. So, two years after Reisa left such an impression on me, the questions stands: how are they going to follow it up? Which of the creative threads spun through Reisa will they follow into this next chapter of their journey?
What struck me on the first listen through Vekja is how much they doubled down into that rowdy fantasy adventure energy that any avid player of Dungeons and Dragons will feel right at home with. But I need to clarify at the outset: it in no way comes off as a gimmick, as many artists who go with this style can often fall into. Instead, it is a genuine kind of whimsy and adventure which sounds clear through Vekja’s runtime, inviting you into Bló∂ Dyr’s world of balladry, merriment, and legend. What impresses me even further is how this energy is also carried through in the voice-over narration tracks from Mellehän. These spoken tracks, as folk metal has shown us for decades, can really struggle to tow that line between immersive and goofy, and I’m happy to say that in the case of Vekja, it’s the former. Together, the songs and the immersive narrative tracks together weave an utterly spellbinding experience that will leave you with a smile on your face through much of Vekja’s run time.
Vekja’s sound is both expanded and more focused than Reisa, with the core instrumentals comprising of saz and dulcimer held together by percussion. This eclectic instrumentation only adds to the fresh and original sound of the band itself, while also providing more than enough animated accompaniment to the voices of Mellehän, Nea, and Tim who really define the band’s overall sound. If I were to narrow Vekja’s strengths down to just a couple tracks, the opener Across the Sea showcases just the unrestrained fun of Bló∂ Dyr, while the closer Sleipnir really highlights the band’s songwriting and arranging at its most impressive, with the layering of the choruses, throat singing, and independent lines of the band all together in a fluid and coherent track.
Vekja from Bló∂ Dyr is available exclusively on Bandcamp, where you can download it to support the band directly. I hope you find the time to listen, as it’s just a good damn time from beginning to end.
Thank you for reading. The Nordic Sound is supported entirely by its patrons over at patreon.com/nordicsound
Alternatively, it would also help out quite a bit if you shared this review and joined the mailing list down below.