It has been three years since Scandinavian-based duo A Swarm Of The Sun released the critically acclaimed album The Rifts. The time taken between records serves them well, with each release being more absorbing than its predecessor. The Woods (both self-released/Version Studio) is no exception, taking the band down a distinctly bleaker path, with a slow and menacing atmosphere that evokes a sense of unease akin to the feeling being watched by something unseen and malevolent.

The Woods is composed of three songs that each clock in at over twelve minutes, and while it is best heard whole, each song brings a new and intriguing element. Album-opener ‘Blackout’ sets an unsettling tone, one with a crushing feel of utter helplessness and defeat.

It builds slowly, a ponderous funeral trudge devoid of voice that climaxes at an overwhelmingly confounding crescendo. It is has been designed to be reflective, as though observing your own melancholia before your eyes.

The title track sees the presence of Jakob Berglund’s haunting vocals that drip with emotion that is effervescent suddenly turning forceful and unyielding; it is almost as though Berglund himself is exploring lifeless woodland, beckoning those who listen to join him.

Closer ‘An Heir To The Throne’s opening couple of minutes threatens be the album’s own Achilles-heel; bringing the pace down to that of the start of the album, though it is merely a ploy by the band, conjuring the dread of one who is lost and going round forever in circles: the glimmers of hope being swallowed when the realization of familiarity sinks in.

A Swarm Of The Sun’s deviation down the path of desolation gives credence to the phrase ‘misery loves company’. The Woods perfectly encapsulates the bleak repetitiveness of being lost in disorientating darkness and, even though it can be a little oppressive, for those who trudge through the mire of apocalyptic eternal darkness, it is a gloomy landscape to wallow in.

9 / 10

SARAH WORSLEY