Let me tell you about a band that’s been around longer than most of us have been alive. Soulgrind, the Finnish outfit that first emerged in 1992, recently dropped their tenth album after a 16-year hiatus. If you’re thinking, 'Wait, they’ve been around since the early ’90s?'—you’re not alone. But here’s the thing: this isn’t just about longevity. It’s about a band that’s spent decades wrestling with identity, evolving in fits and starts, and finally delivering something that feels both nostalgic and forward-looking. And yet, even with all that, I can’t shake the feeling that they’re still trying to figure out what they want to be.
Soulgrind’s story is a case study in artistic reinvention. They started as a raw, solo death/doom project by Lord Heikkinen, with a sound that was more guttural than polished. Then came Tanya Lilith, whose melodic vocals became the band’s emotional anchor. But here’s where it gets interesting: the band’s trajectory isn’t just about musical growth. It’s about the tension between chaos and control, between the primal scream of black metal and the haunting beauty of gothic balladry. You can hear that duality in their new album, Ad Pulchram Mortem—a record that tries to balance the best of both worlds, but sometimes stumbles under the weight of its own ambition.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Soulgrind’s evolution mirrors broader trends in metal. The genre has always been a battleground between extremes: speed vs. slowness, aggression vs. elegance, chaos vs. structure. Soulgrind’s journey reflects that tension. Their early work was raw and unpolished, but their later albums, especially Pakana and The Tuoni Pathway, leaned into melody and cohesion. Now, with Ad Pulchram Mortem, they’re trying to reconcile those two sides. The problem? It’s like trying to juggle flaming torches while riding a unicycle. Some tracks, like 'The Origin of the White Serpent,' nail that balance perfectly. Others, like the meandering 'In the Circus of Tuonela,' feel like they’re missing the point entirely.
Let’s talk about the vocals. Tanya Lilith’s clean tones are the album’s saving grace. Her voice has this uncanny ability to lift even the heaviest riffs into something transcendent. It’s like watching a storm cloud part to reveal a sliver of sunlight. But here’s the catch: her performances are inconsistent. Some songs feel like a masterclass in emotional delivery, while others veer into the realm of the overwrought. Meanwhile, Azhemin’s growls are a different beast altogether. They’re deep, grizzled, and unapologetically ugly. But that ugliness can be a double-edged sword. It adds texture, sure—but it also risks alienating listeners who crave a more accessible sound.
And then there’s the album’s runtime. Sixty-five minutes is a lot. Even for a band known for lengthy records, this feels like an exercise in endurance. I get it—metal bands love to test their fans’ patience. But at some point, quantity becomes a liability. The eleven-minute finale, 'Into the Shadows of Devotion,' is stunning, but it would have had more impact if it were trimmed down. The same goes for the mid-album track 'In the Circus of Tuonela,' which feels like an afterthought. It’s as if the band was so eager to prove they could still deliver epic tracks that they forgot to edit the weaker ones out.
Here’s what I find most intriguing: the album’s contradictions. It’s a record that wants to be both a tribute to the past and a statement of intent for the future. But the past keeps creeping in. The blackened growls, the thrashy riffs, the gothic flourishes—they all feel like echoes of earlier eras. And yet, when Lilith’s voice cuts through the noise, there’s a moment of clarity that suggests the band is still capable of greatness. It’s like watching a painter try to blend oil and watercolors on the same canvas. It doesn’t always work, but when it does, the result is breathtaking.
So where does this leave Soulgrind? They’ve delivered an album that’s equal parts promise and frustration. It’s clear they’ve got the talent, the passion, and the vision to create something truly special. But without a bit more focus, they risk becoming a footnote in their own story. I’m left wondering: will they use this album as a springboard for something even better, or will they get lost in the noise again? One thing’s for sure—this isn’t the end of their journey. It’s just another chapter in a saga that’s been unfolding for over three decades.
