Review: Thorvroht - The Silent Northlands

Artist: Thorvroht

Album: The Silent Northlands

Label: Isilya Records

Release date: October 2026

Anders Ragnar is one of the most prolific, not to mention most highly regarded artists in the contemporary dungeon synth scene, owing primarily to his primary project Örnatorpet, but also due to his outstanding side projects, such as the one I'm reviewing today. I reviewed Thorvroht's debut a while ago, and to this day it remains one of those albums that I have a remarkable emotional connection with beyond its objective quality. That made me all the more excited that the project's sophomore album dropped seemingly out of the blue, currently in digital form, but soon to be followed by a tape release on the scene's premier label Isilya Records.

Those who listened to and appreciated Frostbound Reveries will find few surprises on The Silent Northlands, at least in terms of style; it's still the beautifully melancholic take on dungeon synth that sits somewhere between the genre's roots and a video game soundtrack. The music retains the enveloping silky fluidity that characterised the first release, making it much less harsh than traditional dungeon synth while also unlocking some core memories that many millenials - especially those who grew up on a combination of Twin Peaks and video games like Zelda - will have no issues relating to. The tracks are mostly based on a single melodic passage, usually in harmonic minor, expanded upon and arranged into an evolving string of variations that wouldn't be out of place in the more frostbitten passages of Game of Thrones. That said, The Silent Northlands are not a mere part 2 of the debut album, and there are certain stylistic shifts that have happened in the three years separating the two albums, however subtle. The landscapes traversed by the presumed protagonist are somehow more wintry and more desolate than the first time around, but the melodies are also more developed, more immediate and more melancholic than was the case before, particularly on tracks like Celestial Stillness that feels like a veritable ode to the Great White North. That's perhaps why the album feels much longer, or at least more potent, than its 34-minute running time suggests.

While The Silent Northlands, being largely based on the same creative seed, doesn't have the emotional impact the debut album had on me, it is nevertheless a flawlessly executed piece of modern dungeon synth, iconoclastic in its choice of style and poignant in the sentiments it manages to elicit. Genre purists are certain to have a few words to say about it, but it's difficult to care about those when the music is this good.

Rating: 8/10