Hamferð are no strangers to telling stories. From Evst to Támsins Likam, there is a grand scope across their funeral doom metal that few bands have matched. Their work until now has been of a single concept stretching across three releases, however, Men Guðs hond er sterk is an unexpected change, in several ways. A more personal story, the new album by the Faroese band is not only inspired by the band’s home country and nature as before, but directly by a tragic event that took place in the town of Sandvik in 1915. While Hamferð‘s previous work was darker than black, recalling bands like Swallow the Sun, Men Guðs hond er sterk attempts to lift up the sunshine at the end of the storm.
Several of us at The Goat Review are fans of Hamferð and had Támsins Likam up high on our yearly list back in 2018, before the blog existed. Big changes to a band’s sound are naturally risky, as hearing it as a fan, what you liked about a band might simply be gone. Hamferð in 2024 are more direct, eschewing the funeral part of the doom equation and drifting closer to the melodic doom metal genre while keeping that massive scope of crushing guitars. In the colossally dour and ugly “Hvølja” (Whaleskin), Hamferð reflects on the central tragedy, in which the small fishing village watched 14 fishermen out at sea get swallowed up by the waves of a massive storm. It’s mood is important to the album as a whole, and while not all of the songs are directly about the tragedy, they are inspired by it. Rounding off the album, the title track features a recording of one of the survivors of the tragedy speaking about what happened yet focusing on the fact that some of the fishermen survived despite the odds. It’s this kind of optimism that sees Hamferð‘s writing changed.
Now with two guitarists, the songs are layered and often building on a single thread to hone in on the emotion of each track. The band have recorded this album live, in the same room, and I can hear it clearly as it has a crunch that the more meticulously planned out sound of Támsins Likam didn’t have. The songs are more accessible but stay true to Hamferð‘s style, with some deep lows and beautiful contrasts. Jón Aldará excels, as usual, with a dirty death roar and tender clean vocals that fit the mood. The clean vocals are more varied than usual, which I’m sure is a positive effect from Aldará‘s time with Barren Earth and Iotunn.
Whether you’ll like Men Guðs hond er sterk comes down to what your expectations are. Hamferð pivot in a slightly different direction, and despite me having a hard time with this initially, the album has crushed me in place with its deep waves and hints of sunlight. The different songwriting approach, calmer moments, and bold decision to end a forty-four minute album with a five minute sample won’t appeal to everyone. The title track, while poignant and important to the album as a whole, also feels like an incomplete end. It is hard to argue that it is a darling that should be cut from the album but it also finds me wishing that it had been included in a different way. While there are flaws here, Hamferð have still produced one of the best doom albums of the year. Creatively, it is no tragedy.
