Sweden's ritual folk act Forndom, one of the world's leading modern folk artists, will release a new album entitled Moþir on 6 December via Nordvis Produktion. Moþir is an exploration of divine ambiguity in a soundscape that feels as ancient as the earth itself. Ludvig Swärd's acoustic compositions strip away modernity, drawing listeners into a world shaped by reverent melodies. With contributions from Thomas von Wachenfeldt, Janne Posti (Häxkapell), and Draugurinn, Moþir is a meditation on the cycles of life and death, offering a timeless reflection on Scandinavian spirituality.
The first single and music video, "Tunridor," is out now. "Tunridor" is an old word for witches and symbolises feminine darkness. The song draws inspiration from two stanzas of the Hávamál:
Stanza 155: The tenth I know: if I see witches play, high in the air I can cause them to go astray, lose their form, and lose their soul.
Stanza 118: A man I saw, sorely wounded by words of an evil woman; a lying tongue took his life, though for no just cause.
Ludvig Swärd comments: "The tenth rune, according to the Uthark system (which I believe is the correct interpretation), is Ís – the rune of death. This rune is chanted by Janne Posti (Häxkapell, Sons Of Crom) eight times in the song, representing the eighth rune, Hagall (hail), which is also associated with curses. While the song had an intensely personal and emotional connection during its creation – where I sought to embody the essence of deceitful human behaviour – it evolved over time, taking on a more profound magical significance. This led to events beyond my understanding: volcanic eruptions, displacement, and death. A chain of events that felt almost too perfect to be real! At its core, the song revolves around the invocation of Odin, as described in stanza 155, and the strength and protection he provides – a feeling beautifully conveyed through the stirring string arrangements of Thomas von Wachenfeldt (Bard Of Skaði). The song's ending also includes a small homage to Dissection and "Where Dead Angels Lie" – a nod I hope those familiar with the style will recognise."
In the music of Forndom, the past breathes with a vitality that transcends time. Moþir is as complex as the deities it portrays, weaving together themes of fertility and loyalty, love and betrayal, light and shadow. It is an exploration of divine ambiguity, where the nurturing embrace of a mother can just as easily turn into the cold hand of inevitability. Link