Verum Malum

Finland’s Draugnim are one of many Scandinavian acts devoted to craft a softer, melodic-oriented form of black metal that is sometimes categorized under the “pagan metal” moniker. I’ve never been a fan of the Finnish scene, which often revolves over clichéd, simplistic songwriting more oriented in imitating rather than varying the formula, and I like most of these “pagan” variations even less, but Draugnim is a name that stands over mere sufficiency at both ends. Not the most prolific of such bands, they originally formed in 1999, but disbanded in 2004 before releasing any full-lengths, and released only four since their 2007 reunion: extremely few material, given members do not have side/solo projects (though vocalist Mikko Häkkinen was a member of the now-disbanded Twilight Opera and Crimfall).

The band’s songwriting is rooted in Folk-tending harmonies with sing-along melodies, prominent keyboards, distant vocal shrieking and vintage-oriented, blazing production strongly akin to the imperfect works of Bathory. Other points of influence are Moonsorrow (plenty of E/A-minor tremolo droning and lengthy songs often crossing the 7th minute mark), Dissection and early Ulver, especially in the prominent use of 6/8 beats and chord progressions. Nothing spectacular, just Nordic lore done right.

Sonically wise, the band’s fourth album, 2024’s Verum Malum features the most aggressive, distorted production so far, and the material reflects such artistic choices in increased sticking to extreme metal: it’s all pretty evident on opener Traitor’s Crown, which, despite being based on more E-minor chiming chords, features rigid blast-beating, more technical palm-muting and chromatic power-chords strongly reminiscent of Immortal, especially their most revered works, Battles in the North and At the Heart of Winter. The song’s coda is even more epic.

Ver Sacrum opens with even more chromatic, violent chording derived from Mayhem and Watain, while Salt the Earth sounds closer to early Nagelfar, due also to the different production employed, which sounds even rich in treble and devoid of bass frequencies, save for some apocalyptic synth pads popping around 3:40. The remaining three cuts sound equally lengthy and bereaving (especially Deeds of Strife, which screams Make a Change… Kill Yourself all over) without diverging much from the established formula.

Though longer than the minimum requisite to be defined as full-length, Verum Malum doesn’t sound exhausting, thanks to its compact tracklist and hooks that get repetitive, but not excessively so due to changes of arrangements that show care has been put in the writing. Draugnim will always be a derivative, less-than-great band in black metal, but so far they’ve released no duds, showing their clear focus and, why not, even the decency not to overcrowd the market with one photocopy after another, which says a long way about their discography.