Alt Som Finnes Review: Bizarrekult Turns Black Metal Into Weather

Alt Som Finnes sounds like Bizarrekult weaponizing Norwegian black metal—frostbite riffs, post-metal swells, and mood swings that actually land.

The trick: this album isn’t “songs,” it’s pressure systems

Some albums feel like a setlist. Alt Som Finnes feels like a front moving in—slow at first, then suddenly you’re checking the windows. Bizarrekult have been around in some form since 2006, but the version you hear in the 2020s is the one that matters: heavy, deliberate, and weirdly confident about making black metal breathe.

This is clearly Roman V. calling the shots alone, and you can tell because the record doesn’t “compromise” the way committee-made albums do. It commits. It also evolves hard from Vi overlevde (2021) and Den tapte krigen (2023)—not by ditching black metal, but by stretching it until the seams show. That’s the whole point here: not novelty, but expansion.

Arguable take: the album’s biggest flex isn’t brutality—it’s that it lets itself slow down without turning soft.

“Hun” lights the match, and it’s not just an intro

The opener “Hun” is the shortest cut—around three minutes—but it doesn’t behave like a polite table-setter. It’s a real song with real teeth. The blastbeats come in like someone kicked a door in, and the riffing has that frostbitten Norwegian snap: sharp, orthodox, and almost proudly unfriendly.

What surprised me is how quickly it establishes the album’s emotional temperature. No cinematic easing-in. No ambient apology. Just flame-to-torchpaper ignition.

Arguable take: “Hun” works because it doesn’t try to be clever—its job is to make your shoulders tense, and it does.

The first left turn: “Blikket Hennes” flips the lighting

Right after that initial burn, “Blikket Hennes” starts showing the album’s real personality: movement, shape, and the willingness to pivot mid-sentence. The drums thrash, then the whole thing twists into something dissonant and foreboding, like the room got darker without anyone touching the lights.

Then it pulls the stunt that tells you Alt Som Finnes isn’t here to cosplay second-wave purism: it opens into more harmonious leads, and guest vocals from Yusaf ‘Vicotnik’ Parvez (of DØDHEIMSGARD) come in soaring, almost heroically. It’s the kind of section that would feel right at home on a modern Enslaved record—still black metal, but with the ceiling raised.

I’ll admit I wasn’t sure the first time through if those cleaner, soaring vocal moments would feel pasted on. On second listen, they don’t. They feel like the album exhaling on purpose.

Arguable take: the “post-” elements here aren’t decoration—they’re the lever that makes the heavy parts hit harder.

“Avmakt” proves the album’s main skill: controlled violence

The longer you sit with Alt Som Finnes, the clearer its best trait becomes: it can switch emotional gears without sounding stitched together. That sounds like a basic compliment, but most bands either slam from section to section or smooth everything into wallpaper. This album actually moves.

“Avmakt” is the cleanest demonstration. The riffs are legitimately impressive—big, hard-edged shapes that lock into the percussion instead of floating above it. The drums don’t just keep time; they push the song forward like a crowd surge.

And that closing stretch? It’s an aural bombardment, the kind where the mix feels like it’s leaning into you. It’s not just loud—it’s piled. If you like your black metal with heft, this is where the album plants its flag.

Mild criticism, though: there are moments where the sheer density starts to blur the detail. Not enough to ruin it—more like the album occasionally chooses impact over clarity, and you either buy that choice or you don’t.

Arguable take: “Avmakt” is stronger in its final minutes than its opening—because the band trusts repetition as a weapon, not a failure.

“Håp” is where the album stops posing and gets honest

Here’s the part some listeners will pretend to hate: “Håp” is gorgeous. Not “pretty for black metal,” just genuinely reflective—melancholy shimmering like ice that looks solid until you step on it. It’s the album letting its quieter emotions stand in the center of the room instead of hiding behind distortion.

I kept waiting for it to undercut itself—like, okay, when does it go back to being “tough”? But it doesn’t panic. It just sits in that feeling long enough for it to matter.

If you only want punishment, you might call this indulgent. I think it’s necessary. Without tracks like this, the album’s heavier swings would feel like one-note aggression.

Arguable take: “Håp” does more for the album’s heaviness than another fast burner would’ve.

The closer “Tomhet” makes a bold move: English, and it actually works

“Tomhet” closes the record, and it’s the first time in Bizarrekult’s discography where the vocals are in English. That’s the kind of choice that can go corny fast—either because the phrasing gets awkward, or because the “international” move drains the personality out.

That didn’t happen here. Instead, “Tomhet” lands jaw-dropping because it pulls together the album’s central trick: thunderous blackened bite, then sudden room for gorgeous instrumentation. Not “interludes,” not “pretty parts,” but actual musical space where the sound can stretch.

It’s also supercharged by guest firepower from Kim Song Sternkopf of MØL, which adds weight without turning the track into a feature-fest. The song twists and contorts like it’s trying to crawl out of its own skin, then suddenly opens into something almost luminous.

My first impression was that the English vocals might feel like a label-friendly decision. Now I think it’s more personal than that—like Roman V. wanted the last track to feel exposed, not just extreme.

Arguable take: “Tomhet” is the album’s best-written piece, and it makes several earlier tracks feel like they were building toward it.

This album still bleeds Norwegian black metal—no matter how far it wanders

For all the brave, bold exploration, the record keeps a blackened heart that’s connected to the genre’s most recognizable scene. You can hear it in the attack, the riff language, the way the drums slice instead of bounce.

“Drøm” is one of the purest venom deliveries here, helped by guest vocals from Lina of Predatory Void / Cross Bringer. Her presence isn’t “special guest, please clap.” It’s more like someone threw a match into gasoline—suddenly the vocal tone is nastier, more pointed, more dangerous.

Then there’s “Aversjon,” which swoons with somber reflection. It’s not sleepy; it’s weighted. The vocals sound pained, cascading over rolling drums in a way that makes the track feel like it’s dragging its own shadow behind it.

If someone tells you this album isn’t “real black metal” because it has dynamics, they’re basically admitting they confuse limitation with authenticity.

Arguable take: the most “traditional” moments on the album hit harder because they’re surrounded by riskier choices.

Momentum feels real here—and yes, it’s trying to outgrow its own past

Momentum has been building for Bizarrekult, and album three makes that momentum feel like it’s got no obvious ceiling. Alt Som Finnes doesn’t just repeat what worked on Den tapte krigen—it pushes further in every direction: harsher when it wants to bite, wider when it wants to breathe, and more immersive when it wants you stuck inside it.

It’s also thought-provoking in the simple sense that it makes you ask what you want from modern black metal: purity, or personality? This album picks personality and doesn’t apologize.

And while Mayhem have been keeping the past alive with Liturgy Of Death this year, Bizarrekult come off like they’re arguing for the future—without acting like tradition is something to be embarrassed about. That’s a harder balance than people admit.

Arguable take: this is the kind of album that makes some “legendary” bands sound like they’re repeating themselves.

Album art and release details (because context still matters)

Alt Som Finnes is out now via Season of Mist: Underground Activists.

Conclusion

Alt Som Finnes feels like Roman V. taking the exact tools of Norwegian black metal—blastbeats, icy riff grammar, that grim vocal posture—and using them to build something that moves instead of just mauls. It’s heavy, yes, but the real power is the album’s willingness to change shape mid-track and trust the listener to follow.

Our verdict: People who like black metal that actually breathes—with post-metal space, guest vocals that matter, and closers that swing for the fence—will get obsessed with this. If you need your black metal to stay in a strict little box and never sing a word of English, you’ll spend the runtime squinting suspiciously at it like it stole your corpsepaint.

FAQ

• Is Alt Som Finnes traditional black metal or more experimental?
  It’s rooted in Norwegian black metal, but it keeps swerving into post-metal space and big dynamic shifts.
• Which track best shows the album’s range?
  “Tomhet” pulls together the record’s brutality and its most gorgeous instrumental moments in one closer.
• Do the guest vocalists feel necessary or gimmicky?
  They feel purposeful—Vicotnik adds lift and drama, and Lina brings venom that changes the temperature of “Drøm.”
• Is the English-language vocal on “Tomhet” distracting?
  I expected it might be, but it ends up feeling like a deliberate final exposure rather than a random pivot.
• What’s the one thing that might turn listeners off?
  The density: at points the sound piles up so thick it can blur detail, especially if you prefer a rawer, airier mix.

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