Satan’s out. The North is in.
After reading up on Bathory over the past few days, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that one man—Quorthon—is credited with helping spawn not one, but two entire metal subgenres: black metal and Viking metal.
After spending time with Bathory’s black metal debut and writing about it, I was curious—okay, desperate—to see where Quorthon went next.
His fifth album, Hammerheart (1990), is often hailed as the first true Viking metal album and the cornerstone of everything that followed.
So, naturally, I put it on.
And what greeted me was...
Yeah. Let’s go with epic.
From Goat Heads to Glory
The first notes of Shores in Flames are gentle—waves, an acoustic guitar that feels like it’s floating in mist. Then Quorthon begins to sing.
Sing, not growl.
Gone is the demonic snarl of early Bathory.
Instead, we get something rough, raw, and human. A voice that wants to carry myth.
The song stretches over eleven minutes—quite the leap from Bathory’s early two-minute chaos sprints. The entire album runs just under an hour, across only eight tracks. It asks for your time. But it earns it.
New Direction, Same Grit
Quorthon left behind the corpse paint and Satanic imagery. No more leather pants and blast beats.
In their place?
Stories of war, faith, childbirth, death. Tales of Viking life, not Viking cosplay.
He leans into sound effects: crashing waves, galloping hooves, hammer strikes, village murmurs.
Everything is slower now.
Heavier.
More deliberate.
The production is still lo-fi. The vocals are still unpolished. And honestly? That’s exactly how it should be.
This isn’t Manowar.
This is myth told with scars.
Let the Scholars Argue. I’m Busy Being Moved.
Some call Hammerheart groundbreaking. Others say Quorthon just switched from Venom to Manowar and called it a day.
He, naturally, denied all of it.
Honestly? I don’t care.
I like Quorthon. I trust the intent. I’m not here squinting at riffs trying to sniff out a copycat moment.
His voice may not be “good” by classical standards—off-key in places, rough at the edges—but it fits.
It’s earned.
This isn’t meant to be Dio. This is a warrior with a throat full of dust, singing because no one else will.
Track Highlights & Emotional Hits
Song to Hall Up High – A short acoustic piece that hits harder than it should. The last verse, with that choir and the seagulls crying behind him? Absolutely stunning.
Northern wind take my song up high
To the Hall of Glory in the sky
So its gates shall greet me open wide
When my time has come to die
Home of the Brave – Comes roaring in right after with a crushing riff that somehow feels both simple and ceremonial. It lumbers, but with purpose.
Shores in Flames, Baptised in Fire and Ice, and Father to Son were early favourites—whether for the intros, the pacing, or the riffs that sink their teeth in and stay.
One Rode to Asa Bay took its time to win me over—but when it hits, it hits. That solo in the middle? Gorgeous. Completely unexpected. And yet—perfect.
A Keeper, Without a Doubt
Hammerheart may have confused fans in 1990. For anyone expecting black metal Bathory, this must’ve felt like a betrayal.
But I’m not burdened by that baggage.
I’m coming into it fresh. And what I hear isn’t confusion—it’s evolution.
A man changing shape.
A sound finding its purpose.
This is an album I’ll return to.
Not just out of curiosity—but out of comfort.
Because sometimes, when the world’s too loud, I want to disappear into crashing waves, trudging drums, and stories of something bigger than myself.
And Hammerheart gives me exactly that.