Out May 22, 2026
Words by: Courtney Stark
Eight years. Somehow, even Scandinavian winters in their darkest moments don’t feel that long. And yet, as Scandinavia — and much of the Northern Hemisphere — emerges from a stretch of cold that feels near-permanent, it’s as if that same darkness has been quietly harbouring something beneath the surface. Metal bands, both of the old guard and the newest recruits, have not been idle — rather, they’ve been in hibernation, working in the shadows, waiting. Not gone, but lingering — spectres watching over us.
It’s been eight years since Dimmu Borgir last released a full-length, yet in that time their presence has never truly faded. From commanding Beyond the Gates in Bergen to braving the torrential downpour at Wacken Open Air 2025 — and I know this because I stood there in the mud — they have remained ever-present. And as HEAVY MAG’s black metal aficionado, the bearer of the title Black Metal Queen, it would be nothing short of sacrilegious for me to remain silent on this.
March 26th, 202666 feels like a turning point. Dimmu Borgir emerge from their eight-year long slumber with Ulvgjeld & Blodsodel (“wolfhound & bloodhound”), the first offering from their forthcoming album Grand Serpent Rising, set for release May 22nd via Nuclear Blast. It serves as a reminder that they were never absent — only waiting.
The track begins with a lengthy intro, where silence stretches for over a minute before finally breaking — Shagrath’s signature roar cutting through shortly after, a chilling reminder of exactly who stands before us. It doesn’t erupt into blast beats or the expected wall of sound congruent with Norwegian black metal, but instead settles into a distinct, deliberate groove. The song moves through those unmistakable Borgir shifts, and when Gerlioz on piano emerges mid-track, it lands with weight — the full force of the ivories crashing down like a cathedral collapsing inward.
Later, they released a second track serving as the second track on the album Ascent that is distinctly reminiscent of second-wave Norwegian black metal Gatling gun blast beats with their signature symphonic touches striding beside it as the song modulates into something that feels liturgical before tightening its grasp again.
Tracks like At the Precipice of Convergence and Repository of Divine Transmutation balance the unrelenting darkness of black metal with symphonic epicness and liturgy. Even shrilling guitar solos and the weight of Gerlioz striking the ivories on the piano in At the Precipice of Convergence.
And throughout Shadows of a Thousand Perceptions, it becomes impossible to ignore the chemistry between bassist Victor Brandt and drummer Darius “Daray” Brzozowski — Brandt’s looming low end coils weaving beneath Daray’s relentless percussion, the two giving the track a darker and oppressive pulse.
Whether you align Dimmu Borgir strictly with black metal or place them within the broader realm of extreme metal, they occupy a space that remains uniquely their own. While I will always covet the rawness — the kind of unfiltered sound that feels as though it was recorded in a freezer onto a tape deck that’s survived three wars — bands like Dimmu Borgir offer something different. Not a replacement, but an evolution — a reworking of black metal’s core into something more vast, more deliberate, and no less dark. Grand Serpent Rising looms like a cathedral in the dead of winter — vast, liturgical, and crushing beneath the weight of its own darkness; once it pulls you in, you stay for the entire descent.
