Hailing from Olsztyn, Poland in the historical Warmia region, of which the band takes its name, pagan metallers Varmia have proudly held the flag of their homeland high since being founded in 2016 by vocalist and guitarist Lasota. Though their time as a band may not be that lengthy their influence goes back aeons, and in their imaginative music Varmia seeks to explore and recapture the roots and sounds of the past.
Varmia not only honour their ancestors through their music but set out to give life to archaic methods, even utilising old Baltic instruments such as the tagelharpa, wood tuba and goat horns, which you’ll glimpse throughout the album and are the sparkles of uniqueness that set Varmia apart. The band are also no strangers to going the extra mile to capture a more authentic sound, even recording in barns and fields that have some historical significance, as if invoking spirits to help them on their musical journey. This care for their craft goes to allowing the band to forge a magical unison of metal and olden folk that’s bathed in respect and reflection but has all the abrasive darkness of the horror and hatred of Warmia’s past brought screaming to life through the blazing blackened element of their sound.
Forth album nie nas widzę is structured in four sections with the key tracks in captitals, representing the ‘cult’ of fire, sun, moon and water, the lyrical theme of this release. These four elements lie at the centre of the pagan world and these four tracks are the very heart of the album, but certainly aren’t all that’s to offer.
‘SVA’ opens the album with a salvo of storming kicks and driving riffage that spits whirlwinds of grating, trve blackness in your ears. Vintersorg-esque harmonies carry a depth of mystical beauty throughout the traditional sound, which also evokes a deeper connection to their heritage. The track boils to a midsection of melancholic, dark folk before exploding into thunderous blastbeats and a melodic, almost wistful conclusion. The intense ‘Agre’ follows suit but injects a haunting and sorrowful quality in its intricate details as well as seething with a little more angular and dissonant fury that flits between the barbaric and flashes of melody. The track features several stunning blastbeat sections that don’t waste their impact or outstay their welcome. They rage alongside a soundscape of emotive nuance, sometimes blazing with tremolo violence and sometimes shimmering with meditative nostalgia.
‘Swaixtan’ slows down the pace but hammers you with its heavy, crushing rhythms, churning out monstrous, doom-laden riffs that crunch under powerful drum hits. Goat horns call out giving the track a jarring and unorthodox feel and imposing chants and gutteral throat singing add another intriguing layer. The unforgiving ‘kres’ engulfs you with blistering black metal, fiery tremolos that scorch the hair off your face and blastbeats that rip through Lasota’s commanding vocals, which have more venom than an unhinged Nergal. The track wonderfully contrasts destructive metal that goes for the throat and melodic moments that permeate the track, giving it a strangely calming and mesmeric effect, even under the crushing weight of the tracks darkness. The opening seconds of final track ‘poswiat’ suggest a grand exit, and it doesn’t disappoint. It’s at the tracks midpoint where it truly takes off though, building to an explosive climax after a measured intro, which bleeds into the pounding of war drums that beat over a growing storm before lightning splits the air unleashing a barrage of glorious blastbeats.
Once again Varmia allow a vivid musical story to unfold, suitably whisking you away to pagan vastlands with their beautifully evocative sound. Varmia’s storm-bringing music speaks of aggression and conflict and is steeped in reverence for a time long forgotten by many. It’s music that captures all the depths of Warmia’s history, from its bloody battles to memories of its simple beauty. With Varmia’s music, you are immersed, you feel swept away into an era you’ve only read about. In the harshest moments, in the grimness and Varmia’s anthemic, defiant audial atmosphere, you are ready with sword in hand and in its melodic touches you’re by a crackling fire staring up at an ancient sky.
nie nas widzę is a stellar release with plenty of hooks and emotion and one deserving of any AOTY list. The music is played with gusto by immensely talented musicians whose precision and prowess clearly reflects their admiration for their subject. If you’re looking for something to transport you to another world or place then nie nas widzę and Varmia’s music in general will do the job, perhaps more so than any film could.
