Wardruna’s impact on the Nordic music sphere is difficult to exaggerate. The explosion in popularity of dark Nordic folk across the last decade can be heavily attributed to Wardruna’s music and their involvement with History Channel’s Vikings, and to this day they are Exhibit A of the genre. While the music may sound rooted in a specific culture and historical period, it has still resonated so deeply with people the world over regardless of ethnicity or nationality, myself included. My discovery of Wardruna as a young man had a profound impact on the development of my musical literacy, and they’ve since remained a critical part of my vocabulary. As such, for myself and for the world, the release of Wardruna’s newest album Birna carries some serious anticipation. So, how is it?

In all the right ways, Birna offers the same Viking-era folk music that Wardruna has provided since the beginning. Sawing taglharpas, the wistful yet powerful notes of a kraviklyra, the call of bukkehorns, and the deep reverberations of deer-hide drums; the full ensemble of Wardruna’s traditional, hand-crafted instruments lends an absorbing authenticity to their sound which is further brought to life by a sublime mix, done by composer Einar Selvik himself. As always, Selvik and co-founder Lindy-Fay Hella are a strong vocal duo; Selvik’s iconic voice is ever the focus, though Hella has what feels like a notably more active role in Birna than in previous albums. Birna is also a solid entry point for any readers discovering Wardruna for the first time, as the music encompasses all the stages of Wardruna’s sound. The vocal melodies and dark, brooding drone of “Tretale” hark back to the mysticism of Gap var Ginnunga and Yggdrasil, the dramatic horn blasts in “Birna” call to mind the finality of Ragnarok, and the skaldic beauty of Selvik and his lyre in “Hibjørnen” continues the pattern begun in Kvitravn and, more pertinently, Skald.

But Birna is more than a chronology of Wardruna’s evolution. Conceptually, Birna is a response to the upheaval suffered by bears in nature (Birna means “she-bear”), musically harnessing the bear’s natural strength and signaling a hopeful end to their forced hibernation through a motif of spring. The music of Birna radiates with intent, carefully constructing this idea across every element. It can be as small as warm, dancing flutes and Hella’s vocal melodies (“Ljos til Jord,” “Himinndotter”), or even just the chirping of birds (“Dvaledraumar,” “Jord til Ljos”), gently exuding a quiet optimism. Or it’s the awesome, primal majesty of the bear, viscerally felt through resounding horns, beating drums, or Selvik’s fervent vocals (“Hertan,” “Birna,” “Himinndotter,” “Skuggehesten”). I would describe it as a change in color; the dark, earthy green and brown of Wardruna’s music has begun to incorporate vibrant shades of orange and yellow. It’s a compelling shift in tone from Wardruna’s darker vibes of the past, and it works beautifully through the sincerity with which it’s performed and the rich texture of traditional instruments and natural sounds that has always characterized Wardruna.

If there were aught I might criticize about Birna, it would be how “Hibjørnen” fits into Birna’s pacing. After the low-energy—but no less beautiful—”Dvaledraumar” and “Jord til Ljos,” the frenetic beat of “Himinndotter” rebuilds a momentum that’s poised to continue at the song’s conclusion, but is instead interrupted by the skaldic pace of “Hibjørnen.” While I wish it was placed but one or two songs later, it’s nevertheless a beautiful song, and this most minor of gripes only arises due to how well the diversity of Birna’s music is paced in all other regards. Birna starts strong with the poignant, absorbing “Hertan,” which flows directly into the equally powerful “Birna.” The heavily ambient “Dvaledraumar” was a nice surprise that, at 16 minutes long, could have derailed Birna’s pace but fits snugly as the fourth song, and is a captivating crawl through a tar-thick, dream-like ambiance that transitions perfectly into “Jord til Ljos.” Finally, Birna wraps up its themes with “Lyfjaberg” (old Norse for “healing mountain”), Wardruna’s best song since “Helvegen.” It’s a gradual, gripping crescendo of impassioned chanting and singing; a vital plea, commanding in its urgency, reminding us of the respect and reverence nature needs, and deserves, from us.

Within the thriving Nordic folk ecosystem, Birna is clear evidence that Wardruna remains within a league of their own, a powerful reminder of the sway Wardruna holds within people’s hearts. In Selvik’s own words, Wardruna serves as a bridge between people and the natural world. The sounds of nature, the effortless melodies played by instruments that carry the weight of history, the electrifying voices of Selvik and Hella; together, they grow into an irresistible heartbeat, one that you realize was in you from the beginning. Do not miss Birna.

Rating: Excellent
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps
Label: By Norse / Sony Music
Websites: warduna.com | facebook.com/wardruna
Releases Worldwide: January 24th, 2025

Dr. A.N. Grier

Wardruna is probably best known for contributing to the highly acclaimed Vikings television show. And why not? Wardruna is about as authentic as you can get. Technically a duo, Lindy-Fay Hella and Einar Selvik have been using traditional Norwegian instruments and guest contributors to carry us through majestic fjords and Viking war paths for nearly fifteen years. Luckily for me, I knew and enjoyed Wardruna well before I saw Gustaf Skarsgård’s sexy ass. Though the band has many o’ great albums, 2018’s Skald proved to be one of my favorite albums that year. Unfortunately, we’ve never received promos from the band, so I couldn’t spread my loving praise on an AMG page. Until now.1 While I could have lived without Mystikus Fuckbeard asking (for months) if we’ve received the promo, I’m glad we got Birna, and that I got to piggyback review with him. While I might be late as fuck on this review, Birna does not disappoint. But, in all honesty, they never did.

With all the different variations of folk metal, Wardruna is the most straightforward of the bunch. Not that their compositions are simple. Not by any means. But, if you’re expecting the headbanging Viking anthems of Amon Amarth or the Valkyrie-screaming passages of Bathory, stop now and readjust yourself. Wardruna is anything but that. Instead, their music invokes the ancient times of Viking culture when men were men and women were women. Or something like that. Incorporating beautiful male/female vocal duets, traditional chanting choruses, and massive atmospheres with instruments sourced from animal parts, listening to Wardruna is like sitting around a fire, drinking mead after annihilating an entire village of lowly peasants.2 With Birna, Warduna is, yet again, in top form.

If you’ve heard the band, you know that drums are the foundation of any Wardruna song. The opening track, “Hertan,” kicks things off with a soft heartbeat that reverberates through your chest before the male vocals appear, mimicking the rhythmic beat. As the intensity increases, the chants and distant choirs elevate the track. On the back half, it snaps the trance as the two vocalists duet their way into the snowy clouds. The title track follows the opener and delivers those tasty movie soundtrack elements. Beginning with a soft beat and female vox, the beautiful lyre arrives before the eruption of instrumentation, choirs, and booming male leads. Rising and falling throughout its seven-minute runtime, “Birna” is one of those Wardruna songs that explores every facet of the band’s skills, building layer on layer until the bitter end.

Yet, the most epic of the bunch is the nearly seventeen-minute “Dvaledraumar.” Using the sounds of nature as its core, each flute, horn, and percussion instrument sings as if a lone member is standing atop the highest hill of a lush prairie playing their hearts out at dawn. Each build begins with gentle pluckings as new layers are added, intensifying the varying moods of the song. “Dvaledraumar” traverses moods of complete relaxation, damning sinisterness, and other emotions that took my simple mind on a rollercoaster ride. But, probably the coolest combination of moods is “Himinndotter.” After the male leads hijack the female ones, this song transitions to the closest thing to a chorus on Birna. Which is fucking gorgeous. Then, the track drops into a low, dark place controlled by graveling vocals and simple, yet angry-sounding drums. But that chorus returns, ripping you from the thorns and placing you in the halls of Valhalla. But the best song on the record is the closer, “Lyfjaberg.” I can’t tell you exactly why this track hits me so hard but it’s damn near perfect. Clocking in at over nine minutes, it controls itself while introducing new builds, leads, and a passion that closes the album perfectly.

Though one would argue that “Lyfjaberg” might have been a last-minute inclusion, as it has existed since 2020, it’s perfect for Birna. So, I don’t fucking care. Perhaps the least enthusiastic songs are “Ljos til Jord” and “Hibjørnen,” but they aren’t so bad that they corrupt the flow. The first is odd coming off the mighty title track, while the latter is overly simplistic—even if it still delivers a fitting tone. The dynamics are interesting because they seem deliberate. Averaging at a DR8, they range from the “heavier” DR6 tracks to the breathable DR13 tracks. Having a bit of oomph for those moments where more intensity is needed and allowing the softer moments to open up is a rather clever approach. Once again, Wardruna does not disappoint, dropping another album that continues to portray the culture of olde, while producing gorgeous tracks and a satisfying flow.

Rating: 4.0/5.0

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