Fortid was originally a one-man project, the person in question being Einar Thorberg (a.k.a. Eldur) of Icelandic bands Potentiam and Curse. Potentiam came into my life recently when I heard a very impressive album by other former members who play in another band called Kontinuum. Between 2002 and 2008, Mr Thorberg created a musical trilogy based on Völuspà, which if like me you didn’t know already is an important piece of Norse heathen poetry.

Fortid now comprises 4 members, and it’s clear from the outset that we’re going to be treated to an album of fiery and wind-swept black metal. Just as much of Norwegian black metal is without pretence, so is this. The title-track opener blasts on without a hiccup or scratch as if it is the most natural thing in the world. Visions emerge of warriors and nature. So it continues with the slower “Spirit of the North”, which by virtue of its steadiness is more sinister and cold. A haunting chorus appears out of the relentless yet immaculate rhythm. There’s a short but magnificently atmospheric symphonic section. Fire and anger return on “Electric Horizon”. Meandering, anarchic guitar work breaks up the order we have encountered so far. Chaos is present. The control is superb. “Electric Horizon” sways between levels of darkness, before turning to a chunky and sophisticated slab of death and disaster to suck us further into the scene. From nowhere that can be foreseen, a guitar solo of exquisite majesty. The overlapping of passages to ensure smooth transitions is a great strength of this album. The vocalist meanwhile continues to croak with grim anguish and feeling.

An acoustic folk-pagan song follows, but instead of drifting into self-introspection as sometimes happens, a powerful electric rhythm drives forward “Lesser Sons of Greater Fathers”. It is a melodic piece of melancholy. Such a blend is not something you can create artificially. There’s a deep and meaningful message here in this music, which is enhanced by those overlapping and exquisite rhythms. This pagan song is something special. Fire and hostility return like a change of seasons with the appropriately-titled “Sun Turns Black”. The belligerent defiance, which has more than a passing resemblance to the sounds of Enslaved, makes way seamlessly for a delicate piano piece, accompanied by the soothing patter of the drum. The tension heightens, storm clouds threaten, and then we’re taken back to the majestically powerful fire and brimstone – great structure, great movement and great album. And it hasn’t finished. There’s awesome guitar work and a spooky chorus … “Sun Turns Black” is one of the most exciting tracks I’ve heard in a long time. Peace and quiet return momentarily, but it soon changes to fast-paced drumming and a blackened scene, enhanced subtly by the sound of the synthesiser. The scene is from hell. Blastbeats accompany diabolical hissings. Galloping technical work leads to an inevitable crescendo and conclusion. It moves on to classical spookiness and terror. There is rain and thunder. Otherwise it is quiet. The storm heightens. It is prolonged. No words or sounds are necessary. Listening to this final scene, I can only say that we’ve been lucky with the weather in the UK. But this is Iceland, where we’re in a natural environment and the weather can be pretty dreadful. After 18 minutes, I think we’ve got the point.

So who is this Potentiam? Clearly there are good things going on inIceland, if one band can lead to two separate projects of such quality. Fortid’s music can be simultaneously nasty and inspiring. Aside from the meteorological experience of the final track, there is such variety in the other 42 minutes of this album that it all adds up to a deeply atmospheric experience. “Pagan Prophecies” is both dark and uplifting.

(8.5 / 10 Andrew Doherty)

http://www.facebook.com/fortid