Review by Felix on May 12, 2025.

Der Urfeind, the arch enemy, what kind of dude is this? Well, if we understand Dauþalaikaz as his acoustic and, due to the wonderful artwork, visual visiting card, we realize quickly that he is musically competent, entertaining and technically experienced. Okay, this work is already Urfeinds third full-length and therefore we can expect a pretty mature approach. Nevertheless, in my opinion the album is surprisingly strong. The main reason, but fortunately not the only one, for its vigorous appearance is a monumental piece in the centre of the album. Let's raise the curtain for "Weaving The Abyss".

These eight minutes start with a slow-moving, almost hypnotizing instrumental part which seems to be slightly inspired by the best pieces of Burzum. But the Count leaves the stage as soon as the mighty vocals set in. Their commanding, passionate and powerful form gives this song – as well as the other ones – a sinister and dignified element. Nevertheless, the real reason for the almost unbelievable dominance of this track is the guitar work. The guitar lines are perfect, the song gains more and more density the longer it lasts and despite its pretty contemplative arrangement and the slow-to-mid-tempo rhythms, "Weaving The Abyss" captivates with its gargantuan intensity. Not to mention the tragic melody lines which it holds in abundance. It's a masterpiece of the genre and it achieved a place somewhere in the back of my brain already after the first time I listened to it. I know that I am not the guy to give orders to the community, but otherwise… I would not be quiet until the last one of this community has listened to this track. Maybe we know already the best German black metal song from the year 2025. I just do not know whether it is this one or Gráb's "Vom Gråb Im Moos". Extremely difficult decision!

Skadwaz, the master mind who runs Urfeind, is clever enough to sandwich this outstanding gem with further very fascinating songs. Admittedly, the entire album is free from downers, but "Hymn To Corruption", the direct neighbour of "Weaving The Abyss" is among the best tracks of the album. Creepy guitar lines liaise with hammering drums and the malignant yet somehow royal vocals leave their mark again as well. Dauþalaikaz is a homogeneous album and if you like the relentless, direct and stormy opener "Thorns Of Madness", you will probably enjoy the entire full-length. But this is not to say that I am speaking about a one-dimensional work. Just experience the fresh yet rotten (nonsensical, I know, but true) smell of death which is emanated by "Anthem Of Decay". Its comparatively dragging lines result in a track that cannot be confused with the whirlwind which kicks off the output. The guitars reflect pain and desperation, the break after two minutes comes just at time and opens the door to another kingdom with mesmerizing guitar leads of hopelessness. "Serpent's Flight" also houses a great break after the first minute. The following oppressive melody gives the song an extremely ominous touch. Or take "The Fallen", which is opened by almost positive guitar tones and militaristic drumming. Indeed, Skadwaz had a close eye on variety without diluting the style he performs.

The thick, pretty profound production focuses on the right priorities, only the cow bells are too loud… no, just kidding, no cow bells far and wide. The full, dark sounding guitars are the main component, but drums and vocals get their share too. The bass, okay, the bass is not much louder than the absent cow bells. Nevertheless, I appreciate that it was performed by a guy called "H.". Moreover, the solos were recorded by "Loptr" and the drums by "L.P.". The engagement of these pretty anonymous guys proves that Skadwaz knows knows what he does and what he'd better not do. So my final advice is that he should come back with his fourth work next year, because the creation of fantastic black metal is something he definitely has in his portfolio of skills. However, even for him it will still be difficult to compose a worthy successor to "Weaving The Abyss", but one size smaller would still be great. By then at the latest der Urfeind will become one of my best friends.

Rating: 8.7 out of 10

Review by Felix on May 12, 2025.

Der Urfeind, the arch enemy, what kind of dude is this? Well, if we understand Dauþalaikaz as his acoustic and, due to the wonderful artwork, visual visiting card, we realize quickly that he is musically competent, entertaining and technically experienced. Okay, this work is already Urfeinds third full-length and therefore we can expect a pretty mature approach. Nevertheless, in my opinion the album is surprisingly strong. The main reason, but fortunately not the only one, for its vigorous appearance is a monumental piece in the centre of the album. Let's raise the curtain for "Weaving The Abyss".

These eight minutes start with a slow-moving, almost hypnotizing instrumental part which seems to be slightly inspired by the best pieces of Burzum. But the Count leaves the stage as soon as the mighty vocals set in. Their commanding, passionate and powerful form gives this song – as well as the other ones – a sinister and dignified element. Nevertheless, the real reason for the almost unbelievable dominance of this track is the guitar work. The guitar lines are perfect, the song gains more and more density the longer it lasts and despite its pretty contemplative arrangement and the slow-to-mid-tempo rhythms, "Weaving The Abyss" captivates with its gargantuan intensity. Not to mention the tragic melody lines which it holds in abundance. It's a masterpiece of the genre and it achieved a place somewhere in the back of my brain already after the first time I listened to it. I know that I am not the guy to give orders to the community, but otherwise… I would not be quiet until the last one of this community has listened to this track. Maybe we know already the best German black metal song from the year 2025. I just do not know whether it is this one or Gráb's "Vom Gråb Im Moos". Extremely difficult decision!

Skadwaz, the master mind who runs Urfeind, is clever enough to sandwich this outstanding gem with further very fascinating songs. Admittedly, the entire album is free from downers, but "Hymn To Corruption", the direct neighbour of "Weaving The Abyss" is among the best tracks of the album. Creepy guitar lines liaise with hammering drums and the malignant yet somehow royal vocals leave their mark again as well. Dauþalaikaz is a homogeneous album and if you like the relentless, direct and stormy opener "Thorns Of Madness", you will probably enjoy the entire full-length. But this is not to say that I am speaking about a one-dimensional work. Just experience the fresh yet rotten (nonsensical, I know, but true) smell of death which is emanated by "Anthem Of Decay". Its comparatively dragging lines result in a track that cannot be confused with the whirlwind which kicks off the output. The guitars reflect pain and desperation, the break after two minutes comes just at time and opens the door to another kingdom with mesmerizing guitar leads of hopelessness. "Serpent's Flight" also houses a great break after the first minute. The following oppressive melody gives the song an extremely ominous touch. Or take "The Fallen", which is opened by almost positive guitar tones and militaristic drumming. Indeed, Skadwaz had a close eye on variety without diluting the style he performs.

The thick, pretty profound production focuses on the right priorities, only the cow bells are too loud… no, just kidding, no cow bells far and wide. The full, dark sounding guitars are the main component, but drums and vocals get their share too. The bass, okay, the bass is not much louder than the absent cow bells. Nevertheless, I appreciate that it was performed by a guy called "H.". Moreover, the solos were recorded by "Loptr" and the drums by "L.P.". The engagement of these pretty anonymous guys proves that Skadwaz knows knows what he does and what he'd better not do. So my final advice is that he should come back with his fourth work next year, because the creation of fantastic black metal is something he definitely has in his portfolio of skills. However, even for him it will still be difficult to compose a worthy successor to "Weaving The Abyss", but one size smaller would still be great. By then at the latest der Urfeind will become one of my best friends.

Rating: 8.7 out of 10

Review by Dominik on May 12, 2025.

There's this utterly unhinged imbecile currently at the helm of the United States—less a leader, more an orange-tinted fossil-fueled fever dream—chanting "Drill, baby, drill!" like he's been possessed by a fracking demon or auditioning for a Mad Max reboot. Now, brushing aside any eco-logical (or just plain logical) concerns, if I actually followed that advice here in Germany and started drilling, I sure as hell wouldn't strike oil. But what I would probably unearth is another form of black gold: the kind my home country black metal scene keeps coughing up with gleeful abandon.

Which brings me to Urfeind's new album Dauþalaikaz, the latest success of my mining activities. I've been following this band since their first two releases. They didn't exactly rip the heavens open, decent but not revolutionary, but they were solid enough to keep the band on my radar. Then came a long, brooding silence—five years of conspiring in the shadows. And when they finally broke it with the teaser "Thorns Of Madness", it became very clear: they hadn't just improved, they'd evolved. The song was both a promise and a threat. And when Dauþalaikaz was finally released, it not only lived up to that promise—it exceeded it.

One of the most impressive things about the album is how wide is the part it covers of the black metal spectrum. Unless your heart only beats for keyboard-driven symphonic fluff, you'll find something here to sink your teeth into. We get everything from relentless blast beats and brooding mid-tempo marches, to sublime guitar work and a raw, immersive atmosphere—all achieved without leaning on keyboards like a crutch. Add to that an expressive, commanding vocal performance, and wrap it all in a production that fits this sound like a spiked glove, and we've got ourselves a winner.

There is a lot to like on the album, so let me focus on some highlights, the first being the track "The Fallen". If I were to meet my end in battle—be it on a field or in the frozen aisles of a supermarket during a Black Friday sale—I'd want this to be the soundtrack to my glorious fall. It's aggressive, yes, like a battalion of suicidal zealots charging your last line of defense. But it's the lead guitar that lifts it by slipping in mournful, haunting melodies that manage to channel the senseless brutality of war into something almost beautiful. The result is a musical eulogy, equal parts fury and sorrow. This song, along with the opener, showcase brilliantly why atmosphere and black metal are not a contradiction in terms, but go hand in hand when woven expertly.

What brings me to "Weaving The Abyss", probably the best song on the album. It may take a few spins to fully absorb and appreciate its grandeur, but patience pays off—it's darkness, meticulously composed. It's a slow, almost ritualistic descent into nothingness. At nearly eight minutes, it's the kind of song that doesn't just want your attention—it wants your soul, and maybe your PIN code. The track does exactly what its title promises: each riff, each guttural vocal line, each drum beat weaves another layer of shadow, building a tapestry that slowly, irresistibly pulls you under. At times it threatens to drag, but always pivots just in time, shifting from more introspective passages to thunderous, double-bass-driven assaults. Somewhere in the middle, the lead guitar returns like a ghost with a grudge, stitching aching melody into the void and hitting emotional nerves you didn't know that they exist. It's not just a song—it's a process of being swallowed whole.

While I've already talked a lot about Skadvaz' stunning guitar work (and rightfully so), a special mention must go to his vocal performance as well. He's not your standard-issue rasper. No, his delivery feels ritualistic—like he's trying to burn each word into your memory through sheer vocal willpower. His tone doesn't vary wildly, but that's part of the charm; instead of screeching all over the place, he enunciates each syllable with purpose, hammering every phrase into your psyche, like a brick hurled at your sanity. It's less about hitting notes, more about transmitting a sermon of damnation straight to your gut, bypassing the ears entirely. And it works.

One slight deviation comes with "Void", another highlight. It's shorter, sharper, and probably the most feral track on the album. It is a vicious little outburst that showcases a slightly different vocal style, this time incorporating more classic black metal shrieks into the mix. Of course, no Urfeind track would be complete without another appearance of that outrageously taunting lead guitar which expertly moves through the sonic chaos. Even when the band sounds like it's collapsing in on itself, the lead guitar cuts through like a grim little scalpel of clarity.

Now, let's not pretend this is perfection incarnate, though all things considered, Dauþalaikaz is a triumph. Sure, there are minor flaws, but I'm not here to point them out—I'll leave that to the necro-elitists furiously typing in their basements. But honestly? If you're nitpicking instead of surrendering to this album, you might be listening wrong—or you're already dead inside, which admittedly makes you part of the target audience. What matters is that Urfeind has delivered an album that's dynamic, emotionally powerful, and expertly executed. And if you don't at least give it an honest listen, I hope your next vinyl order gets lost in the mail and ends up in a Christian youth center.

Rating: 9.1 out of 10, because meaning is dead, but at least it died to a killer soundtrack.

Review by Dominik on May 12, 2025.

There's this utterly unhinged imbecile currently at the helm of the United States—less a leader, more an orange-tinted fossil-fueled fever dream—chanting "Drill, baby, drill!" like he's been possessed by a fracking demon or auditioning for a Mad Max reboot. Now, brushing aside any eco-logical (or just plain logical) concerns, if I actually followed that advice here in Germany and started drilling, I sure as hell wouldn't strike oil. But what I would probably unearth is another form of black gold: the kind my home country black metal scene keeps coughing up with gleeful abandon.

Which brings me to Urfeind's new album Dauþalaikaz, the latest success of my mining activities. I've been following this band since their first two releases. They didn't exactly rip the heavens open, decent but not revolutionary, but they were solid enough to keep the band on my radar. Then came a long, brooding silence—five years of conspiring in the shadows. And when they finally broke it with the teaser "Thorns Of Madness", it became very clear: they hadn't just improved, they'd evolved. The song was both a promise and a threat. And when Dauþalaikaz was finally released, it not only lived up to that promise—it exceeded it.

One of the most impressive things about the album is how wide is the part it covers of the black metal spectrum. Unless your heart only beats for keyboard-driven symphonic fluff, you'll find something here to sink your teeth into. We get everything from relentless blast beats and brooding mid-tempo marches, to sublime guitar work and a raw, immersive atmosphere—all achieved without leaning on keyboards like a crutch. Add to that an expressive, commanding vocal performance, and wrap it all in a production that fits this sound like a spiked glove, and we've got ourselves a winner.

There is a lot to like on the album, so let me focus on some highlights, the first being the track "The Fallen". If I were to meet my end in battle—be it on a field or in the frozen aisles of a supermarket during a Black Friday sale—I'd want this to be the soundtrack to my glorious fall. It's aggressive, yes, like a battalion of suicidal zealots charging your last line of defense. But it's the lead guitar that lifts it by slipping in mournful, haunting melodies that manage to channel the senseless brutality of war into something almost beautiful. The result is a musical eulogy, equal parts fury and sorrow. This song, along with the opener, showcase brilliantly why atmosphere and black metal are not a contradiction in terms, but go hand in hand when woven expertly.

What brings me to "Weaving The Abyss", probably the best song on the album. It may take a few spins to fully absorb and appreciate its grandeur, but patience pays off—it's darkness, meticulously composed. It's a slow, almost ritualistic descent into nothingness. At nearly eight minutes, it's the kind of song that doesn't just want your attention—it wants your soul, and maybe your PIN code. The track does exactly what its title promises: each riff, each guttural vocal line, each drum beat weaves another layer of shadow, building a tapestry that slowly, irresistibly pulls you under. At times it threatens to drag, but always pivots just in time, shifting from more introspective passages to thunderous, double-bass-driven assaults. Somewhere in the middle, the lead guitar returns like a ghost with a grudge, stitching aching melody into the void and hitting emotional nerves you didn't know that they exist. It's not just a song—it's a process of being swallowed whole.

While I've already talked a lot about Skadvaz' stunning guitar work (and rightfully so), a special mention must go to his vocal performance as well. He's not your standard-issue rasper. No, his delivery feels ritualistic—like he's trying to burn each word into your memory through sheer vocal willpower. His tone doesn't vary wildly, but that's part of the charm; instead of screeching all over the place, he enunciates each syllable with purpose, hammering every phrase into your psyche, like a brick hurled at your sanity. It's less about hitting notes, more about transmitting a sermon of damnation straight to your gut, bypassing the ears entirely. And it works.

One slight deviation comes with "Void", another highlight. It's shorter, sharper, and probably the most feral track on the album. It is a vicious little outburst that showcases a slightly different vocal style, this time incorporating more classic black metal shrieks into the mix. Of course, no Urfeind track would be complete without another appearance of that outrageously taunting lead guitar which expertly moves through the sonic chaos. Even when the band sounds like it's collapsing in on itself, the lead guitar cuts through like a grim little scalpel of clarity.

Now, let's not pretend this is perfection incarnate, though all things considered, Dauþalaikaz is a triumph. Sure, there are minor flaws, but I'm not here to point them out—I'll leave that to the necro-elitists furiously typing in their basements. But honestly? If you're nitpicking instead of surrendering to this album, you might be listening wrong—or you're already dead inside, which admittedly makes you part of the target audience. What matters is that Urfeind has delivered an album that's dynamic, emotionally powerful, and expertly executed. And if you don't at least give it an honest listen, I hope your next vinyl order gets lost in the mail and ends up in a Christian youth center.

Rating: 9.1 out of 10, because meaning is dead, but at least it died to a killer soundtrack.