Back in 2024, Eihwar exploded onto the scene with their debut album, Viking War Trance, which was – and this cannot be stressed enough – exactly what it sounds like. Refreshingly so, given long it can take to get to the heart (or point) of many many metal albums these days. It was also, in the nicest possible way, not in possession of a great deal of depth. Eihwar were clearly prioritising fun and danceability, and their subsequent appearance at Bloodstock Open Air – as one of the borderline novelty acts that the Sophie tent is known for – suggests that audiences (and bookers) took them in that exact manner. You know the sort, the bands that are best seen after a long day and a skinful.
This is all very well and good, but where do you go from there? Do you keep making Now That’s What I Call Viking War Trance volumes 2 onwards? Do you make use of the audience gained from the first album to pivot into something a little more sustainable longterm? Do you disappear over the Bifröst in a mysterious fashion, never to return? The possibilities are endless.
Turns out Eihwar have taken a fairly standard approach to Hugrheim, in that they’ve built on the most accessible parts of Viking War Trance – the bits that have the widest appeal – and moved the concept on into territory that’s new, but also familiar, and still recognisably Eihwar. For a lot of people this is likely to be successful, because while Viking War Trance was an awful lot of fun, it was also weird and off-beat enough that it was always unlikely to appeal to the majority. Hugrheim,however, is a different beast.
All three elements are still present (the Viking, war and trance), but the focus has shifted. There’s far more melody and straight folk on this album, and what was trance in 2024 is now more generally EDM-type beats, with an unexpected but surprisingly fitting drone element in places. Essentially the sound hasn’t changed as such, it’s just that different elements are front and centre here. Notable consequences of this are that anyone who was particularly into the weird, trance elements on Viking War Trance may find Hugrheim slightly lacking in that department, and they’ve also taken a step away from the “best enjoyed live, drunk and happy” category.
This shift in focus towards the folk end of Eihwar‘s sound also means that Hugrheim is far easier to place in context than its predecessor. Viking War Trance was difficult to relate to any existing artist or album because the sound Eihwar built on it was just that singular. Hugrheim on the other hand, draws far more obviously from a wide range of influences, from straight Nordic folk, to folk metal (Nordic and otherwise) and bizarre, shamanistic dance music. We’ve got scene-setting ambient noise that recalls the likes of Kati Ran and early Turisas, we’ve got some semi-unplugged interludes that sound genuinely sinister in places, we’ve got beautiful, ethereal ballads – the nature and quality of these is one extremely welcome constant across the two albums – and the sort of anarchic, melodic musical chaos that puts one in mind of Eluveitie and their ilk. The end result is something akin to Korpiklaani recreating ancient rites in the style of Ershetu, while not quite drowning out the EDM festival next door.
One thing Hugrheim does have in common with its predecessor though, for all that it’s a more balanced, accessible exemplar of Eihwar’s craft, is that it’s still ultimately somewhat of an acquired taste. The quality here is consistently high from start to finish, and for all that it comes off a writhing mass of chaos, it’s actually been very carefully and skillfully crafted from the ground up, which takes no small amount of skill in multiple areas. So what it comes down to, really, is whether the combination of folk, Vikings, and EDM floats your longship. If it does, you only need the briefest of synopses to know that Eihwar are right up your street (or Bifröst). If it doesn’t, then the quality of Hugrheim is irrelevent, and there’s plenty more out there to listen to.