When Bathory released the first installment of their latest sonic adventure in Norse mythology, 2002's Nordland I, there was a distinct sense of "been there, done that" to the proceedings. After all, Bathory pretty much invented the Viking metal sub-genre with watershed releases such as Blood Fire Death and Hammerheart years ago, and there was no denying that the band's basic template was sounding somewhat tired and recycled. Nordland I's compositional depth eventually rose to its defense over repeated listens, but one was nevertheless left with the feeling that this was an incomplete vision, making the arrival of Nordland II a few months later all the more urgent and necessary. Thankfully, this was exactly the case, as both albums' individual weaknesses are greatly subdued by their unified strength. And yet, as has often been the case with Bathory's latter-day albums, Nordland II only really starts to pick up steam after a few rather tentative songs, hitting its stride on this occasion with the gloriously marching "The Land" and its superior follow-up, "Death and Resurrection of a Northern Son." The second truly encapsulates all the elements that have made Bathory great over the years, as it blasts into hyper-metallic territory with some furious riffing, then settles into a slower, though no less powerful mid-section before slowing it all down entirely for a melodic acoustic passage. Clocking in at ten, slightly bloated minutes, subsequent track "The Messenger" (replete with galloping hooves) is less effective, as is the even lengthier "The Wheel of Sun," but once again, the problems here don't involve a lack of substance or quality, so much as Bathory's many prior triumphs in the same arena. Still, listen to both volumes of Nordland back to back (preferably while watching The Lord of the Rings with the sound turned off), and you'll get a better grasp and appreciation for the entire magnum opus. Possibly too much to digest for neophytes, Nordland I and II offer a bountiful feast for serious Bathory followers. ~ Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide
A two-album saga based upon Norse mythology, the first chapter of Bathory's Nordland frankly comes off as somewhat less accomplished and, well, immense in scope compared to similar epic works conjured in recent years by new groups such as Edge of Sanity and Green Carnation. But before we drive a stake through Bathory main man Seth Quorthon's black heart, let's get some perspective here. Like many masters of old, Bathory's music derives from an altogether different place and time, and, lest we forget, taking a template and improving upon it is usually far easier than creating the template from scratch in the first place. Therefore, much like Venom, who saw their thrash metal sketches developed to an entirely different level of musical mastery and compositional depth by the likes of Metallica and Slayer, so do Bathory's once groundbreaking black metal overtures often seem elementary when compared to those of his dedicated former students -- now competitors. Such is the fate of true pioneers, but you can bet the fjord that many of these 'followers' will pass into memory long before Quorthon puts away his blackened boots. Having said all that, the first installment of Nordland manages to blend grand symphonic metal schematics with Quorthon's still quite noticeable New Wave of British Heavy Metal influences. Therefore, epic examples of modern black metal such as "Vinterblot" and the nine-minute title track share the spotlight with the refreshingly straightforward arrangements and staccato riffing of "Great Hall Awaits a Fallen Brother" and the thrash-happy "Broken Sword." With its folky acoustic guitars, "Ring of Gold" is also pulled off quite convincingly, and the opening riff of "Dragon's Breath" is a stone-cold classic; but the not-quite-effective operatic tones heard on "Foreverdark Woods" also remind us of Quorthon's limited vocal range. Still, Nordland I's many superlatives easily outshine its deficiencies, heightening anticipation for what's to come on Nordland II. ~ Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide
Bathory's famed lost album, Blood on Ice, was originally recorded in the late '80s, smack-dab in the middle of the Swedish group's revolutionary transition from its barbaric black metal beginnings to the ambitiously orchestrated Viking metal of its golden era. At the time, the work was deemed far too big a departure by band mastermind Quorthon, who, among other things, shockingly substituted his raspy croak for actual singing throughout -- but, as with any abandoned project, retrospective evidence also suggests that Quorthon was also less than secure about whether his songwriting and musicianship were yet developed enough to fulfill his vision. Shrouded in mystery for the ensuing half-decade, Blood on Ice was finally resurrected and completed (replete with story-advancing sound effects) to Bathory's satisfaction in 1996, at which time it was released to widely deserved critical and fan acclaim, despite a few but distinct shortcomings that placed its overall achievement slightly below that of acknowledged triumphs like Blood Fire Death and Hammerheart. Sliding into gear rather slowly with tentative offerings like the title track, "One Eyed Old Man," and "The Sword" (which sounds way too similar to Manowar's "Blood of My Enemies"), the album eventually reaches cruising speed with outstanding moments like "The Stallion," "The Woodwoman," and the colossal "Gods of Thunder of Wind and of Rain," whereupon Quorthon's vocals (sometimes given to off-pitch variations) sound better than ever before. The gentle acoustic bridge "The Ravens" sets up the epic, nine-minute masterstroke of "The Revenge of the Blood on Ice," which may single-handedly convince even the most cynical of listeners that this long-forgotten work deservingly belongs within Bathory's hallowed canon. Also worth mentioning, the album's lengthy (meaning biblically sized) explanatory liner notes read like a veritable Rosetta Stone for longtime Bathory supporters, shedding unprecedented historical light and perspective upon the group's mysterious history. ~ Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide
Regularly cited as the archetypical Viking metal album, Bathory's Hammerheart remains an unqualified triumph for the pioneering Swedish act. Merging audacious lyrical ambitions with a sense of musical grandeur akin to the greatest epic works in metal history -- among which it is frequently numbered -- Hammerheart is a fully fleshed concept album, and a literate one at that. Chronicling with great detail and drama the Christian invasion of Scandinavia during medieval times, and his pagan ancestors' forceful conversion to the cross, Seth Quorthon became a standard-bearer for an entire generation of disenfranchised Norse-descended teens. In fact, Hammerheart's remarkably well-thought-out words and overall scope and vision engendered a deep-seated anti-Christian sentiment within the region's extreme metal scene, sentiments that were eventually brought to their most violent conclusion with the hate crimes perpetrated by members of the Norwegian black metal community in the early '90s. Turning to the music itself, the clean vocals which had made their first appearance on Bathory's previous outing, Blood Fire Death, become the norm throughout Hammerheart, further clarifying the resentful exposé of Quorthon's lyrics. Frankly, his singing voice still needed work, sounding a little out of tune here and there (see monstrous opener "Shores in Flames" and, more disturbingly, the brief "Song to Hall up High"), but this does little to detract from the astounding depth of musical diversity and inspiration contained here. Majestic overtures like "Valhalla," "Father to Son," "Home of Once Brave," and the career highlight "One Rode to Asa Bay" rarely fly with the hyper-speed of Bathory's thrashing past, but rather march inexorably out of your stereo speakers, their ghostly, layered vocal chorales bestowing each and every song with even greater pomp and ceremony. As if you hadn't already realized this, taken in its entirety, Hammerheart paved the roads upon which countless pilgrims would later travel -- bands like Mayhem and Emperor, who later possessed legends in their own. Their studious worship of Bathory's teachings are the ultimate proof. ~ Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide
Cryptic though its title and cover image (boasting human skulls and bones strewn across the landscape) may seem, not everything about Bathory's Requiem spells an end to all things. Instead, the album (Bathory's seventh) merely signaled a back-to-basics resurrection of the legendary black metal group's primitive, early-days simplicity, rather than offering yet another chapter in their Wagnerian, long-evolving Viking metal phase of the surrounding years. In retrospect, the album was clearly the first sign of Quorthon hitting a creative wall, with subsequent clues arriving in the form of his eclectic, but obviously searching solo releases of the same period, as well as Bathory's own, often inconsistent albums. In the case of Requiem, any trace of the lengthy epics, ostentatious arrangements, chorused vocals, and ambient keyboards that had dominated other albums was obliterated by the single-minded velocity and death metal mania with which tracks like "Crostitution," "Distinguish to Kill," and "War Machine" pierce the listener's skull. And you can forget about any clean singing, something which as of late had become the norm as well, but which was summarily slaughtered here by the gurgling convulsions of Quorthon's shredded larynx. Ironically, even though Requiem did benefit from the improved audio quality present on the band's later triumphs, on this occasion the final results were surprisingly inferior to the rough-hewn gems of their past. Requiem fell somewhere between the two extremes, thereby failing to fulfill the expectations of most of Bathory's fan contingent. ~ Eduardo Rivadavia, All Music Guide