Photo of Gaahls Wyrd by Jørn Veberg
When fellow Arts STL contributor David Von Nordheim and I went to Norway and Sweden for Inferno Fest in 2024, my favorite memory is smoking cigarettes and sipping coffee in a snowy alley in Göteborg, singing the praises of Sweden’s greatest musical export, ABBA.
I share this anecdote to say that, while I’ve never met Gaahl or seen any of his musical projects live, every time I’m kicking around Oslo, I always hope I’ll run into him or Kristoffer Rygg (Ulver) on the street or in a café and share a moment or two between cigarettes and glasses of wine. We wouldn’t have to go deep or say anything really. Just being in that moment seems like a sublime memory I’d hold forever.
Unfulfilled daydream aside, Gaahls Wyrd returns with Braiding the Stories, a record that finds the Norwegian outfit forging further into distinct territory while honoring the atmospheric black metal foundations of their previous work. Three albums in, Gaahl and Co. have developed a sound that feels both familiar yet refreshingly unpredictable.
If records are as close as I ever get to Gaahl, I appreciate the windows into his worldview.
Opening track “Ek Erilar” sets the tone immediately—this isn’t the raw aggression of early Norge black metal, nor is it the orchestral bombast that consumes much of the genre. Instead, Gaahls Wyrd occupies a middle ground that largely emphasizes mood and narrative flow over shock value. The production strikes an ideal balance, allowing tremolo-picked melodies to breathe with still enough grit to anchor metal’s more abrasive traditions.
Gaahl’s vocal performance remains the band’s most distinctive element. His delivery has now evolved considerably from his days in Gorgoroth, incorporating clean passages that feel natural and necessary. On “The Speech and the Self,” his transition from harsh whispers to melodic chanting creates genuine tension rather than mere dynamic contrast. It’s an oft-gimmicky technique, but Gaahl restrains himself from overuse.
The album’s strength lies in its commitment to songcraft over atmosphere-building. While many post-black metal acts lose themselves in extended ambient passages, Braiding the Stories keeps its focus on actual songs. “Carving the Voices” demonstrates this perfectly—at six minutes, it feels neither rushed nor indulgent. The track features distinct sections that serve the composition rather than showcase individual musicianship. Lust Kilman’s guitar work, for instance, finds melodic phrases that stick without sacrificing the music’s underlying darkness.
Lyrically, the album explores themes of identity and mythology without falling into black metal posturing. Gaahl’s writing has always been more introspective than his peers, and Braiding the Stories continues this approach. The title track weaves personal reflection with broader cultural observations, avoiding both confessional over-sharing and pseudo-intellectual pretension. When he sings about “threads of memory binding what was to what will be,” it feels earned rather than forced.
The rhythm section, too, provides a steady foundation without drawing unnecessary attention. Ole Hartvigsen’s drumming favors groove over blast beats, a choice that serves the material well. His work on “Through and Past and Past” demonstrates how effective restraint can be—the steady pulse allows guitars and vocals to carry emotional weight while maintaining forward momentum. Similarly, the bass playing (handled by Gaahl himself on several tracks) prioritizes melodic support over technical display.
Braiding the Stories succeeds because it sounds like a band comfortable with their identity. There’s no desperate reaching for innovation or stubborn adherence to orthodoxy. Tracks like “The Seed and the Sower” incorporate folk influences, while “From the Spear” delivers straightforward black metal aggression. This balance suggests a maturity that many metal bands struggle to achieve.
The album’s pacing deserves mention. At 45 minutes across seven tracks, nothing overstays its welcome. Each song feels necessary, and the sequencing creates a natural flow that encourages complete listening rather than cherry-picking favorites. “Within the Voice of Existence” serves as an effective centerpiece, its mid-tempo groove providing breathing room before the album’s final push.
All of this said, some may feel that the band occasionally plays things safe. While the consistent quality is admirable, a few moments of greater risk-taking might have elevated the album, such as the closing track “The Path to the Self,” which hints at unexplored possibilities with its extended instrumental section, suggesting directions the band could pursue more curiously in the future.
But if I may break from my professional reviewer voice for a moment, ambition goes much further than perfection does for me. Doing something that, while perhaps not all the way successful, but different, is a much more engaging approach. For as many bands that strictly adhere to the formulas of olde, many others approach a genre without respect for, or understanding of, its underlying power and appeal. In short, I’m very much a guerilla-style enthusiast of art, be it music, film, books, and many other mediums. Garage rock. Don’t give me perfect; give me interesting.
Braiding the Stories positions Gaahls Wyrd as a reliable voice in contemporary black metal’s ongoing evolution. It’s an album that rewards attention without demanding it, accessible enough for newcomers and sufficiently depthful for longtime genre followers. Most importantly, it sounds like music made by people who genuinely believe in what they’re creating.
For a genre often caught between nostalgia and experimentation, Gaahls Wyrd offers a third path: thoughtful progression rooted in strong fundamentals. Braiding the Stories proves that evolution doesn’t require revolution, and sometimes the most effective statement is simply doing familiar things extraordinarily well. ★★★★☆ | Zach K. Johnson
