This is the journey of Enslaved.

They set out to sea as young men, warriors, berserkers. Clashed, screamed and battled their way through early Viking black metal epics like Vikingligr Veldi, the Hordanes Land split with Emperor, then Frost, Eld and Blodhemn.

Lured by promise of greater spoils and darker bloodshed, they ventured too far out to sea and became lost in the swirling mists. Out there, at the edge of the world, the men encountered strange sights and ghostly voices, and sought to make sense of them on peculiar and experimental albums like Mardraum: Beyond the Within and Monumension. And then somehow, Enslaved found their way back to shore.

Back home again, but changed – now madmen and maniacs, screaming to all who’d listen of what they’d seen and survived. The music had changed as well – a hybrid, post-black attack of jagged riffing and soulful, swooning psychedelia. With Below the Lights, Isa and Ruun after that, the balance of madness to clarity shifted, little by little – those black metal berserkers became seers and visionaries. Their message became calmer, clearer and more entrancing than ever. Until at last, with Vertebrae, it seemed the fires were dying down and the once-fierce warriors were simply content to rest and weave their grand stories.

But that is not the end of the saga. Those of you that thought that Vertebrae’s blooming harmonies and mellow, stately pace signaled the end of Enslaved’s rage were mistaken.

Axioma Ethica Odini, Enslaved’s 11^th full-length, shows that these shaggy grey sages still have some chaos left in them yet. It retains the atmospheric texture and majestic, Floyd-ian melody from Vertebrae and Ruun, but brings back the raw, clattery aggression from Isa, Below the Lights, even Blodhemn. It’s the perfect culmination of the last several albums, and for those of you who lamented Enslaved’s recent direction, this will bring you back home as well.

For the first half of the album, songs like “Ethica Odini,” “Raidho” and “The Beacon” begin as relentless, scrambling gallops, their hoofbeats churning up gravel while Grutle seems to spew it from his ragged, cawing throat. And then, in the choruses, he switches off with keyboardist Herbrand Larsen, so that we go from gargled blood to silky, honey-mead croons. These moments are yearning, heroic, and more confident than they’ve ever been. Perhaps all that time spent on tour with Mikael Akerfeldt and company last year provided some inspiration.

The Opeth similarities end there, though. The album definitely has its share of shifting dynamics, but it’s not the balanced back-and-forth that you usually hear from Akerfeldt’s compositions. Most times you hear one of Larsen’s flowing, clean vocals, it’s accompanied by Grutle’s bestial vocals as well. There are plenty of progressive moments throughout the songs, but they’re rarely as ethereal or sweet-sounding as the softer moments of Vertebrae. Axioma Ethica Odini is overall rougher and more discordant than we’ve heard from Enslaved in awhile.

For the most part, it’s faster too. But then we also have slow, doomy stompers like “Waruun,” which staggers this way and that like a drunk raider with a faceful of volcanic shards (until it, too, brightens and soars). Later, “Giants” lumbers like its namesake, its head above the clouds and bellowing clean, shamanic vocals that echo down into the valley below.

After “Giants,” there’s a noticeable shift in songwriting, as the remaining three tracks become choppier and more disconnected than the first half of the album. Flow and melody are largely sacrificed for a more aggressive experimentalism, at times harkening back to Mardraum or Monumension. I had particular difficulty in connecting with “Singular,” which should have been the album’s progressive, epic crescendo – an “Api-Vat” or a “Neogenesis.” Instead, its flow left me confused and its clean moments failed to move me. “Night Sight” is a bit better, given its smooth 70s psychedelic feel, but it’s here that I wished Enslaved would embrace their softer side with abandon and just deliver a full-on ballad rather than an odd hybrid.

Album closer “Lightening” fares the best of all of these, but it’s also a real grower. Its loping pace and plaintive croon take some getting used to, but once the murk drifts away and the majesty of the chorus shines through (a bit too abruptly), it’s like getting an unbroken view of the northern lights on a cloudy night. Definitely worth waiting up for, and an appropriately transcendent ending to one of Enslaved’s most invigorating albums yet.

As its title suggests, Axioma Ethica Odini is a reaffirmation of Enslaved’s core values. In recent years, the band has shown themselves to be dreamers, explorers and mystics – but this is a clear reminder that their boats are still moored on black metal’s rocky shores, and those berserkers and warriors still remember the bloodshed of their early days. So do not be afraid. The madmen at the edge of camp may stink of filthy furs, and their shrieks may drive the others away, but their eyes are as clear as ice and moonlight. And there are stories there to be learned.

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