Dimmu Borgir truly is one of the veterans in the realm of Symphonic Black Metal and – for sure – Black Metal proper. As the lore goes, the band started operations in 1993, releasing records at a steady pace. Alas, the dispatch of records slowed to a trickle in the meantime, with the band taking some 8 years between major releases. Does this mean there’s an energy drop by the two faithful acolytes, Shagrath and Silenoz? Perhaps. But, remarkably, the two remaining founding members are still at it today.
Now, Eonian saw the light of day in 2018. So, by this token, the effects of whatever the RMR crew has to say on Grand Serpent Rising1 will only become visible in the Year of the Dark Lord 2034. If anybody is listening, that is. This crew may already rot in hell by that time. So, hurry up, DB, the devil ain’t waitin’ for no one.
The review desk got wind of a new Dimmu Borgir piece once the ritualistically tainted Ulvgjeld & Blodsodel hit YouTube with a new clip earlier this year. And a pretty good one at that with an actual theme that seems to be time-related.2 But what about the rest? It is safe to say that Grand Serpent Rising continues where Eonian left off almost a decade ago. You’ll find a ton of neatly elaborated soundscapes, cathedral crescendos, and a proficient arrangement that will serve well to make the Black Metal stand out in this (sometimes slightly nauseating) sea of synth work.
In a way, the record often sounds like a weakened offshoot of Cradle of Filth without the filthy screams and the trademark boundless energy. Instead, you’ll find a fair portion of Carach Angren‘s storytelling on this piece. I even heard someone compare Grand Serpent Rising to Anaal Nathrakh, but this may be overly enthusiastic. What we do have, however, is a case of overproduction. Samples galore, a choir that the crew was unable to discern if this was machine-generated or not, wildly meandering melodies that seem to visit the same place all over again. And this may explain the massively exaggerated playtime Grand Serpent Rising sports.
All the above notwithstanding, Dimmu Borgir have created luxuriant orchestrations that allow fair breathing room for all those elements jockeying for attention. Often with those typical Finnish vibes bands like Moonsorrow are famous for. The axes will spring to action when and as the situation demands it. The riffing didn’t really chuck us out of our comfy pilot chairs, but there are moments. Leads that suddenly erupt, fine tremolo work when blackened fare is of the order, and solos that truly got on our good side. Such as the ones on Repository of Divine Transmutation. All of that jazz comes with many a piano interlude and the rasps and snarls that oddly seem to sit somewhere farther back in the mix. In short, this arrangement proved pretty much devoid of excitement, hooks, or other rusty surfaces to draw blood from.
Ultimately, Grand Serpent Rising didn’t turn into a greatly exciting record. One could argue that the band upped the ante somewhat in deference to Eonian. There is a slight increase in oomph but not necessarily in musical wizardry. However, this comes at the price of a whopping 15 minutes of added airtime. And let’s face it, 69 minutes of meandering riffs, leads, and themes, delivered with some sort of soft-power blackened fare, won’t create a great number of happy campers over at the office tower.
But don’t get me wrong. The record isn’t a bad one, and it is written by folks who understand their trade. And by that token, veteran stalwarts will find their familiar meat and potatoes that make their world go round. And rightly so, there’s nothing really wrong with the piece. As to this crew, however, we were left wanting more.
And that just won’t do.
Record Rating: 5/10 | Label: Nuclear Fucking Blast | Web: Official Band Site
Release Date: 22 May 2026