Origin : Sweden
Genre : Melodic Death Metal
Release : 2013
Album downloads only available to members
Album Info / Review
**Amon Amarth – *Deceiver of the Gods*
Redfield Records, 1999 – 1,031 mm on a shaft of righteous fury**
When a band that has walked the long, gravel‑dragged halls of Viking metal releases a second full‑length, you can expect a fondening of themes, sharper licks, and a more committed use of every timbral resource. *Deceiver of the Gods* delivers, tightening every line with the machined precision of a forged sword pointing straight at a mythic foe.
—
### Sound & atmosphere
From the opening scrape of “Since the Dawn,” the mix feels like a cavernous amphitheater blown by wind‑blasted coils of steel strings. The low end is firmly anchored; the kick sits flush under the icy snare that cracks like shards of broken shields. The guitars are not merely doubled; they harmonise in a 12‑note mode that feels both ancient and menacing—almost as if the riffing were carved out of runic stone. Mid‑range frequencies are compressed enough to maintain sustain without drowning nuances, while high‑end reverbs give the tracks a sense of open darkness as if the songs were being sung in a bronze church.
The album invites you to lose yourself in layers of texture: in the distant growl of Håkan Serner’s lower riffs, the ringing chord on the higher strings that arcs above the main motif, the occasional tinny clean chord that simulates a far‑off horn. Listeners will notice how the instrumentation never becomes a mere backdrop for the vocals; instead, each instrument claims its own stone‑block throne.
—
### Riffing & songwriting
Amon Amarth excels at shooting a riff front‑and‑centre, as if forging a blade that must stand alone on the battlefield. The title track’s soaring melodic line—constantly anchored by the double‑stop prosody of the rhythm guitar—revels in a classic fortissimo shape: a curve that climbs, spreads out, then dives back. The guitar work is often more than just a missile delivery; the second verse of “Bitter Grief” unravels into a shout–tuned ostinato that demonstrates the band’s command over the nine‑note B‑minor scale in a way that feels both savage and almost sentimental.
Songs run at a measured pace: not a furious blister‑faster track, but one where the melody can breathe amid a melee of arrow‑sharp leads. The main riff of “Dawn Of The War” touches a heavy, down‑tight groove that becomes an anchor point for a vocal section that rushes forward into a angular passage marked by an abrupt lifting of the accompaniment—a call‑and‑response between the feed and the raw-fire.
What’s remarkable is how the band manages to keep each track distinct, even when lyrically pulled together by the tapestry of Odin, war, and death. They blend the crude yet coherent sense of a static vocal line, paced by the aging yet razor‑tight drum machine, into a pulse that rarely loses its syncopation. A sound that is unmistakably black‑metal heavy, but with a scrumen of folk folk and a hammerhead of Nordic introspection.
—
### Production quality
The rawness of early Amon Amarth works might be seen as nostalgia; for the most part, the album’s recording finds a sweet spot. The crispness of the low frequencies is preserved; the guitars receive equal treatment for a tightly tidied sound that respects the screams while being forgiving to the subtle tertian harmonies. The drum machine emerges slightly gritty, but not to the point of field‑noise. The production is not slick at all, but instead informs performance—every nuance becomes a literated Shakespearean flourish in the music.
Under such a rigged mix, the demonic voice sticks as an imposition of weight, as though the vocalist is bobbing on a wave of blackened heat. The cosmic quality of the vocal dips into the abyss, and the throat mimics a fortissimo flecking of thunder.
—
### Overall impression
*Deceiver of the Gods* is a comparative assertion of power. The band juggles the influence of black‑metal mystique with a population of more linear, chiptune‑driven tunes that carry under a cage of screwed on war‑logic. Each track is like a battle: you can sense a aim to conquer the imagination through extremely powerful percussion, medieval lyrical progression and an unmistakable choreography of sound.
Its final outcome is a soundtrack to the soul that lets the listener experience an assembly of war, mythology, and the supercalmar testament of the longarmed Vikings. The overall idea is to hijack your persistence with a tonal structure that will haunt you the next morning.
**Score: 8.7/10** – The album has succeeded in the best way, it’s better lifted than any other
of the band’s smokescreen. Think of it as a battle hymn, told with an unswedged audience.
