Review Summary: Melodic progressive metal that struggles to reach individuality beyond the clutches of Green Carnation
In the Woods… is the name of a Norwegian metal band from Kristiansand with a storied history marked by breakups, drama, and a notable link to Green Carnation. Originating as Green Carnation, another popular heavy metal act, its evolving lineup sparked a creative transformation that culminated in the formation of In the Woods. The band’s trajectory reflects resilience, experimentation, and enduring artistic vision.
Since entering the Norwegian metal scene, the band has relentlessly chased a distinct vocal and instrumental identity. Their early trio of albums, milestones of the 1990s, showcased deliberate experimentation and evolving textures. Reuniting in the 2010s, with Anders Kobro preserving the rhythmic core, they issued
Pure,
Cease the Day, and
Diversum, reaffirming continuity amid change. The recent
Otra, their fourth release post-reunion, features Bernt Fjellestad as vocalist, signalling a matured, recognizable sonic posture even as personnel shifts reshape the lineup.
Spanning seven tracks, each exceeding five minutes, the work orbits motifs tied to the river Otra, pagan lore, and war narratives, offering escape through texture rather than driven storytelling. Developed as a mature signpost of the groups’ ever evolving discography,
Otra embodies a tempered approach to the band’s second incarnation. The ensemble experiments across black metal, doom, and progressive metal, while remaining anchored by the Green Carnation foundation that has guided their sound since inception. The result is an engaging alloy of melodic progressive Norwegian metal, enriched by occasional gothic overtones and a lush atmospheric layer. The seven tracks navigate dark black metal riffage, wonderful melodic passages, and contemplative instrumental interludes that invite reflection. Synths and keyboards add textural depth, intensifying the sense of mood and immersion without sacrificing clarity. Structurally, the songs rely on a direct emotional arc rather than labyrinthine complexity; their simplicity tends to heighten impact, placing emphasis on melody and atmosphere over virtuosic display. Even as the material diverges from the core path with bold shifts into black and death metal terrain, the underlying melodic threads remain evident and compelling. In this way,
Otra demonstrates why the melodies underpinning these compositions are among In the Woods’ finest achievements, beckoning a moment of restraint that amplifies expressive power rather than diminishing it.
Unfortunately, the Norwegian band's reunion yields a release that, while polished, stakes its claim within a conservative frame.
Otra’s cohesion produces a commendable technical polish, yet the material often reads as somewhat derivative, a more poorly executed version of Green Carnation’s latest work. Though there are flowing peaks, the repertoire favors calculated risks over bold departures, making the music agreeable and even appealing, yet difficult to love passionately. Fjellestad’s warm, approachable vocal presence remains a clarifying light in a landscape that sometimes feels complacent. However, his performance alone cannot fully redeem the work from its restrained execution. The album’s main challenge lies in direction: despite several promising ideas, repetition and a succession of fleeting concepts undermine momentum and resist a more compelling arc. Overall, the release favors craft over daring; evolution is halted.
Outra’s cover depicts the river in Norway that lends its name to the album. The scenery is melancholy vivid despite the absence of color, and timeless, qualities that permeate the forty-six minutes that follow. In reflection,
Otra is a cautious, technically accomplished effort that asks its audience to meet it halfway, offering nuggets of brilliance while signalling a need for a potentially renewed emotional anchorage. Thirty-four years after first setting out, In the Woods… may never fully return to where they began, yet they have learned to dwell in the introspective melancholia of their music, and, chances are, they'll probably continue to do so, residing between their glorious past and the present stagnation.
Recommended tracks:
The Things You Shouldn’t Know
Let me Sing
Come Ye Sinners
The Wandering Deity
