Der Weg einer Freiheit – Innern
Release Date: 12th September 2025
Label: Season of Mist
Bandcamp
Genre: Black Metal, Atmospheric Black Metal, Progressive Black Metal.
FFO: Havukruunu, Panopticon, Deafhaven, Wolves in the Throne Room, Harakiri for the Sky, Sig:Ar:Tyr, Kanonenfieber.
Review By: Malte Brigge
One of the great joys of fandom is bearing witness to an artist developing their craft and honing their skills as they seek to produce the perfect expression of whatever their vision is, knowing the futility, possibly foolishness, of such ambition. As an educator by trade, I believe that progress is more essential than perfection, and we even modify the famous saying to say “practice makes progress.” But sometimes you come up against something, whether a book, a sculpture, or an album, that absolutely bursts with adjectives like pristine, flawless, next-to-godliness, exquisite, quintessential, etc. To the point: Der Weg einer Freiheit’s sixth full-length, Innern, may very well end up my album of the year. I’m a latecomer to the band, having been introduced by a friend only when this album was announced, but I’ve since spent a fair amount of time exploring their backstory in anticipation of this release. It was time well spent, but I still don’t think it prepared me, because what can prepare you for an encounter with the immaculate?
Innern opens with a warning buzz nearly identical to how Kanonenfieber starts Die Urkatastrophe. Though you’ll find similarities in some aspects of the sound, particularly in some guitar tones and the vocals, rather than relying on recyclable templates and catchy choruses, Der Weg einer Freiheit uses atmospheric expansion and emotional force to drive song structures, more akin to bands like Wolves in the Throne Room and Fires in the Distance. Though several tense minutes pass before Marter ramps up, by the time it lands in an exceptionally uplifting groove, you’re fully hooked because you already know that this is a special album.
Drummer Tobias Schuler puts on an absolute masterclass of precision and coordination that leaves my jaw on the floor. My notes say simply, “best drumming I’ve ever heard”. Beyond sheer technicality, they resound in the mix and build emotional tension almost melodically, setting the timer on the many explosive moments that make Innern one of the most intense and engaging listening experiences of 2025 (and beyond). On songs like Xibalba, the drums balance the other instruments as they lock into immense, hypnotic, wall-of-sound builds that constantly stretch the tension until it just about snaps. Eos reveals the band’s mastery of songwriting, crafting diverse themes that wind through moods from the frantic to the funereal, leaving you raging and weeping in perfectly calculated turns.
The fury of Finisterre is here turned to wrath while the melancholy of Stellar is deepened into despair, and Nikita Kamprad’s vocals have never sounded more pained. He explores more range than even on Noktvrn, whose experiments felt a little clinical in places. Vocal shifts—even the throat singing on Eos—are more attentive to Innern’s emotional development, creating a dynamic and transformational experience. His haunted cleans on Fragment give way to harsh, vengeful howls, while closer Forlorn (the only song in English) is sung in a simple dreamgaze quality that builds layers of harmonic loops. When he arrives at the final excoriating moments, his grieving shrieks, calling out to an emptiness on top of a musical presence that gives that emptiness a home, are absolutely gutting. The simplicity of the melodies clearly and beautifully translates the anguish, desolation, rage, desperation and anxious frustration pulsing throughout the album. Like a funeral in an apocalypse, the pressure only increases as songs build to devastating conclusions that leave me gasping but are also cathartic, as if some deep and unknown tension had been released.
The rich creative expression of Innern is unparalleled. It’s an album that can take its time because it has purpose. Nothing is extraneous here; no note is wasted, and no beat is superfluous. It’s a transcendent experience that succeeds in being truly transportational. Innern isn’t an album one simply puts on to play while going about the quotidian; without being demanding or attention-seeking, it draws you in so you can’t help but attend. More than once, and atypically of me, I felt the need to switch off the lights, put my headphones on and lie in bed listening. I wanted to allow the album to fully immerse me and then let me go. At forty-three minutes—Der Weg einer Freiheit’s shortest full-length to date—it leaves me wanting more, while in no way feeling incomplete. They’ve married their weighty, resonant past and atmospheric, experimental leanings into a fervid, enveloping, and at times devastating experience that holds onto you long after the last notes have rung out.
(5 / 5)
