Review by Felix on February 3, 2021.

You don't have to be an expert in Finnish black metal to have an idea of roughly what Ymir's debut sounds like. If you have heard an album by Odiosior, Ordinance or Malum once, it only takes a small mental transfer to imagine what style Ymir might play. Of course, there is a cold atmosphere, which is primarily based on icy guitar lines. The almost nine-minute opener invites the listener to take an extensive bath in the ice bucket. Sombrely looming keyboards darken the sky even more. In their best moments, their use is reminiscent of the early masterpieces of the Emperor, to build a bridge from Finland to the west. No question, dark grey clouds are gathering in the sky, driven across the land by a merciless wind. But when a band takes the tiny period of 23 years to record their debut, you can expect at least a small whirlwind.

Excuse me for a moment, someone is raising the hand back there and wants to ask something. What do you want to know? Whether the music on the self-titled album is original? How such questions bore me. The answer is no. Does anyone want to ask a more intelligent question now? Do I mean that black metal has to sound original? This question is better, even if the answer is the same as before. No, black metal doesn't have to win an originality award. But it must have a cruel note, which in Ymir's case is achieved by the fervent screaming and nagging. While some instrumental sections may enjoy a more or less smooth, relatively clearly pronounced melody, Lord Sargofagian's voice is a constant reminder that we are not at a children's birthday party here. In addition, the material has a good measure of that typically Finnish, melancholic heaviness that can long since be considered a black metal trademark.

The appearance of typical genre elements is accompanied by the complete absence of external approaches. This does not lead to the highest level of listening pleasure all the time, so 'Winterstorms' could well have been shortened from six to four minutes. The track does not lack coherence, but it does miss enough good ideas and a higher degree of aggression. The appropriate production, which has that famously creepy, dense touch, is of little help here. Besides the clanging guitars, neither drums nor vocals come up short, so more or less everything fits here. Be that as it may, no sound engineer in the world can animate a relatively lame composition to run. But I don't want to spend too much time on the minor flaws of the album, because overall it is unquestionably another document of Finnish quality metal. 'Silvery Howling' and 'Resurrection of the Pagan Fire' are the names of only two tracks that convince with their fast snare, their abysmal harmonies and their very solid basic substance. It is not only the experts who are happy about such tones from Finland.

Rating: 7.6 out of 10

Review by Fernando on February 3, 2021.

Over the years there have been a large number of different approaches in music and lyrics within black metal with equally mixed results. One of such styles is the more pagan side of black metal, bands of what’s described as “pagan black metal” tend to focus on exactly that, pre-Christian pagan beliefs and musically incorporate more folkish and even epic elements, and of course the influence of Bathory in that area can’t be understated. In 2020, the controversial label Werewolf Records in allegiance with Lord Sargofagian of Baptism fame and his brother Vrasjarn brought the debut self-titled full-length album of the two brother’s long dormant pagan black metal project, Ymir.

It's interesting how Ymir as a project existed for over two decades and released just two demos, however given how both Lord Sargofagian and Vrasjarn are very prolific with their other endeavors, it's not entirely unreasonable to see why this project slumbered for so long.

Those familiar with Sargofagian’s main band Baptism would feel an instant familiarity listening to this record as it hearkens to some musical elements to Baptism, primarily the melancholic melodies and aggressive drumming, however this project has a major difference with that band, namely the atmosphere and overall execution of the music. The sorrowful melodies in Ymir have various tinges of folkloric musicality, but what’s interesting is how there’s no overly folky instrumentation beyond a very subdued keyboard for added effect in some songs. Usually pagan black metal bands tend to go ham on bringing traditional instruments to pay tribute to their pagan ancestors, in here it isn’t the case, guitars, bass, drums, shrieking vocals, and already mentioned, very subtle keyboards. The actual music is also very raw and aggressive, leaning more towards classic Norwegian style black metal in the vein of early Enslaved and Taake, albeit with the trademark Finnish melodicism most fans of that regional style would associate to bands like Baptism. But the key difference is in the atmosphere. The music’s overall feel as a whole is one of a cold and bitter winter, a frozen desolate wasteland, and the effectiveness of the execution lies in how the band used a minimalist and primitive approach to create such a grand and sprawling sound with a balanced focus on both aggression and atmosphere. It's actually impressive how the band achieved such an epic sounding album with the most basic of instrumentation and in a surprisingly short amount of time. Just over thirty minutes of music, a testament to the ethos of black metal that Fenriz of Darkthrone always talks about.

That being said, while I can safely give this album high praise for being so innovative to achieve its ambitious sound, taken as a whole this record is not that different from other older black metal or pagan metal records. I can certainly respect the “no BS” approach and adherence to the spirit of the subgenre, but as it is, this is an album that’s kinda stuck in the late 90’s sound of black metal, which is made evident by the fact that this band was dormant for so long and no other meaningful released beyond two demos that at this point can barely be found online if at all. While it is a legitimately good album with memorable moments and noteworthy aspects in the musical execution, it just feels like a weathered tree in a frostbitten forest, it can stand out in sheer size and age but the same snow covers all the woodlands.

Best tracks: 'Pagan Mysticism', 'Ymir', 'Resurrection of the Pagan Fire'

Rating: 7.6 out of 10

Review by Felix on May 2, 2019.

Cancer started with a primitive debut and the second album still revealed a rather simple approach. Both works had its charm, but only for those who like to eat their daily portion of meat raw. The third full-length of the quartet marked a new climax of their discography - and I think it will remain their masterpiece for eternity. I enjoy the tasteful cover which does not look as stupid as those of their previous albums. The opener confirms the good impression. “Cloak of Darkness” follows a halfway melodious approach while creating an intense atmosphere, especially during its fantastic bridge. But the hymnal chorus is the icing on the cake. Without exaggeration, this tune represents one of the band's most stirring compositions.

And it gets even better: the opener can be seen as a blueprint for the remaining songs. This does not mean that they all sound the same. But the interested listener will discover plenty of outstanding riffs as well as superb melodies. Of course, I am speaking of melodies of the harshest kind. Although a few songs deliver a slightly weaker compositional level, the album is more or less fully convincing. From my point of view, it's one of these transition works like "Under the Sign of the Black Mark" or "Expurse of Sodomy". Both marked the ending of a pretty foolish (yet fascinating) period and opened the door to a new dimension. Too bad that both Bathory and Cancer were not able to find their way in this previously unknown space (I know that this statement is highly debatable in the case of Bathory, but what can I do - I never liked their Viking stuff very much.) However, The Sins of Mankind combines the rawness of the early days with first signs of maturity. 

Of course, the production plays an essential role, too. It is flawless on the remastered re-issue – but it has also been faultless on the original album from 1993. The sound generates an adequate pressure and the slightly more technical appearance has nothing to do with a lifeless mix. Well, to call the contribution of the bass guitar omnipresent would be a nefarious deception, but the overall impression gives no reason to lament. 

The most aggressive track is called “Tribal Bloodshed Part I - The Conquest”. Cancer dish up a short outburst with blast beat-like drumming, rasping leads during the mid-paced part and a compact guitar solo. But the direct neighbors of this track also leave their footprints. "Pasture of Delights / At the End" connects a calm and atmospheric intro with thundering riffs that lead to a catchy yet brutal chorus whose lines seem to herald Armageddon. Its dramatic undertone puts the finishing touches on the song. Finally, the mid-paced and fatalistic "Tribal Bloodshed Part II - Under the Flag" can be blamed for a certain repetitiveness, but its riffs are simply too strong to send it to Coventry. And that's it. Without frills, without any form of technical ecstasy and without trace elements of bombast, everything is said and done in less than 35 minutes. It's no milestone, but even 26 years after the release, The Sins of Mankind still makes my day every now and then, because its material uncovers absolutely no unforgivable sins.

Rating: 8 out of 10