Review: Årabrot ‘Rite Of Dionysus’
Having only discovered Årabrot in the last few years, one thing that’s always struck me is the evolution of their sound. Earlier work was more abrasive and punkier, and as they aged, the music has evolved to the point where newer work sounds like an entirely new band, and the lineage from start until now has been pretty remarkable.
The band’s last album Of Darkness And Light, which was released back in 2023, was actually the first time I properly connected with them, and it’s that album which spawned my love for the outfit. It was abrasive and heavy, yet disjointed and alternative, and I loved that concept. I also had the privilege of catching them playing live at Portals Festivalback in 2024, and I was utterly blown away by both their sound and the dynamic. Watching Kjetil Nernes and Karin Park on stage was utterly compelling, like watching two forces of nature sparring with each other; the chemistry between the pair was electric, and made for one of the top performances of the whole event.
Since then, I’ve been waiting to see where they would take Årabrot next, but I wasn’t at all prepared for their new album Rite Of Dionysus, and the journey it would lead me on.
Initially, I was expecting a fluid follow-on from Of Darkness And Light, after all, that would have been the most logical destination, but no, this time it’s actually less of a pummelling, and more of a ritualistic statement, where less is more, and the harder edges have been rounded off somewhat.
Rite Of Dionysus is, at its core, vibrantly lighter, yet altogether more ‘off kilter’, there are elements of Americana that have become obvious, and chuggy loud guitar passages have somewhat dropped back, to reveal a more ambitious turning point in the band’s sound.
Over the course of the nine tracks, the Norwegian powerhouse takes what’s expected and shakes it all up, to a point where it’s a little unrecognisable, and it will be interesting to see where the output leaves fans. I, for one, was pleasantly surprised by it all, and the shift in sound has been quite the revelation.
Opening with I Become Light, we are met with a pensive, understated introduction. It has a sermonic quality, and Kjetil’s vocal atop an electronic backdrop is a little unsettling, but I think that’s because my expectation wasn’t at all ready for this shift in sound. Either way, it’s still great, and I’m left liking this new evolution.
A Different Form picks up where the opener left us, and although it is quick to pick up the pace with its abstract guitar and drums, it is still lighter in mood than the previous album. There doesn’t seem to be any We Want Blood anthems, but hopefully time will tell, after all, we are only a couple of tracks in. What really strikes me is the airy texture to the sound adds an additional layer that elevates the piece and keeps me engaged right up to a wonderfully awkward and distorted guitar solo, that revolutionises the band’s dynamic upwardly.
the band are moving forward, deviating, and reinventing, like the true pioneers that they are…
The next two tracks, Rock ‘n’ Roll Star and The Devil’s Hut give a real parallel in Årabrot 2025 sonic journey. One, a peculiar little ditty, with a mix of jangly guitar, vibrant vocal, and eclectic electronica that feels joyous in its nature, and the other is a moodier, darker affair. Where Rock ‘n’ Roll Star gives a quirky ‘up’ feeling, The Devil’s Hut brings things darkly down. It is more what I am accustomed to with the band, and it becomes a real highlight of the album for me. It leans towards Americana, somewhat different to the rest of the album, but is just so epically cool.
Pedestal, the first single from the album, is a bleak yet poetic affair, before we get The Satantango, another highlight, and it’s where the hardcore elite fans will most likely find salvation. This is more what we have come to expect from the band over the years, dark and imposing, it is harsher in its core, and I love that.
Årabrot still have a few surprises left to throw at us, with track seven, Mother, taking a more spoken word approach. Stripped back to vocal and keys, the ode to a lost parent is both heartbreaking and poignant. It’s an interesting insertion into the album and goes to prove that this is so much more than a collection of songs; it feels like reading someone’s diary, sharing their personal thoughts, and being a passenger on a journey, even if it is painfully sad.
For the final two songs we get quite the juxtaposition. Death Sings His Slow Song returns us to that darkly ambient Americana for one last jaunt, and then we are given something altogether different to close with.
Of Darkness And Light, the album closer is a vibrant, dancey number, which was completely unexpected. It solidifies the fact that Årabrot are the masters of their own destiny, the decisions they make are completely theirs to control, and just when you think you have them figured out, they turn completely sideways and deliver another surprise.
Absolutely engaging, completely unique, it’s another win for Årabrot. Don’t expect an album that sounds like the last, the band are moving forward, deviating, and reinventing, like the true pioneers that they are.
Label: Dalapop
Band Links: Official | Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Lee Beamish
