Review Summary: Not-so-dark folk
Sangre de Muerdago are a bit of a weird band. I don’t mean that they’re particularly inaccessible - far from it, really. As long as the listener finds traditional-ish European folk music tolerable, the beauty and feeling of the group’s compositions and playing tends to immediately shine through. But they’re an outlier nonetheless, nearly always classified as part of the dark folk genre alongside such mainstays as Tenhi, Vali, and mid-era Empyrium. Part of Sangre de Muerdago’s uniqueness within this grouping is simply cultural, as the vast bulk of the dark folk movement’s headliners hail from northern or eastern Europe, making the group’s Galician origins (in the verdant mountains of northwestern Spain) stand out sharply. Beyond this, though, the prevailing mood of most dark folk tends to be pretty “dark” (who would’ve guessed?), creating atmospheres at turns melancholy, brooding, or sinister. Sangre de Muerdago’s worthy discography doesn’t lack sadness or solemnity, but those feelings are reliably matched by more upbeat emotions as well, from simple contentment to jubilation. The band’s earthy roots in Galician folk music come through in this way, making their work a suitable soundtrack to the passage of time, to all the triumphs and the tragedies, to life and death.
Specifically writing about
O Vento Que Lambe As Minas Feridas proves difficult, primarily because most of the assessments of the music therein could also be applied (at least broadly) to each of the band’s previous albums. It’s pretty much assured that if you enjoy such releases as 2015’s masterful
O Camino Das Mans Valeiras or 2020’s
Xuntas (with those two LPs still marking Sangre de Muerdago’s gold standard), you’ll find plenty to love here as well. From the peacefully pastoral opener “Wo Sich Fuchs Und Hase Gute Nacht Sagen” to the somber title track to the richly emotive “Adeus Meus Amigos” (itself an updated rendition of a song which appeared on the band’s self-titled debut record), this is another album chock full of vibrant and textured dark folk delivered with easily-evident passion and flair. The band’s latest might not be (and probably isn’t) their strongest effort, and doesn’t exactly break down any new doors, but it demonstrates once more that Sangre de Muerdago still possess their inimitable ability to convey deep emotion through gorgeous music. With
O Vento Que Lambe As Minas Feridas, they’ve delivered another album rooted in a particular sense of place, while also managing to hint at the universal appeal of its themes.
