Amid the rising popularity of medieval period dramas, films and computer games there’s also been a steadily increased interest in the traditional music of those bygone eras. Story weavers Skáld attempt to transport us, bringing to life the distant past, regaling us with Scandinavian folk tales in the form of their new album, Huldufólk.
Medieval inspired neo-folk has become a heavily saturated genre and often we need to separate the wheat from the chaff when it comes to filtering out the cosplay Vikings from those with anyactual substance. Thankfully, French collective Skáld have proved that they know their onions when it comes to immersing themselves and their listeners in ancient Scandinavian culture.
Huldufólk, the collective’s third full-length album immediately drags the listener into their world. Making use of traditional Norse instruments such as the nyckelharpa, talharpa and even a hurdy-gurdy, we’re transported to far off mystical forests and mountain ranges of old on tracks ‘Troll Kalla Mik’, and the whimsical, gently uplifting ‘Då Månen Sken’.
By contrast the album also features some much more upbeat performances, further distancing the album from the usual melancholy melting pot of ambience that’s to be expected from this genre. ‘Ljósálfur’ takes its name from an elf character mentioned in Snorri Sturluson’s ‘Prose Edda’ and utilises a faster paced vocal pattern that breaks away, allowing elements of each instrument to shine through. The catchiest songs on Huldufólk come in the form of ‘Elverhøy’ with its slightly dance-pop features and a blood-pumping rendition of Gabriel Kent’s ‘Ríðum, Ríðum’, a deep cut associated with the Icelandic horse riding championships that aptly, creates a galloping percussive audio effect.
Huldufólk also contains moments of sheer intimacy allowing the album breathe when called for. ‘Mánin Líður’ and ‘Hinn Mikli Dreki’, both stripped of all intensity, possess a calming, lullaby or almost siren-song-esque quality to them instead. The same of which can be said for Skáld’s rendition of ‘Her Mannelig’, an old folk ballad previously popularised by genre-mates Garmarna.
Frustratingly, where the album lets itself down is in the re-imagined cover songs that feature on the record. A Skaldic version of Rammstein’s ‘Du Hast’ makes for an interesting listen and wouldn’t sound entirely out of place in the stage show STOMP, although its probably best enjoyed very loudly whilst quaffing horn after horn of mead. As for Skáld’s folky overhaul of ‘A Forest’ by The Cure, there’s a kind of corny quality to it. It’s as though the magic of the mythical creatures and Scandinavian landscapes conjured up earlier have now been replaced by images of a dishevelled Robert Smith invoking a goth Tom Bombadil and passing out Worthers Originals to throat-singing wayfarers. Though these covers are fun, it somewhat detracts from the “journey” the album claims to lead the listener on – perhaps a sign the band don’t take themselves too seriously? They’re fun, yet so out of place.
Overall Huldufólk proves to be a valiant and somewhat cinematic effort by the Skáld collective, an accessible and educational listen that explores various ancient cultures and languages. Taking us on a journey through Scandinavian history and folklore, Huldufólk is an album that can be enjoyed and admired by neo-folk music traditionalists, fans of folk-leaning metal and modern-day plastic Vikings alike.