Review: Korpiklaani & Moonsorrow, Fleece

This was billed as the Finnish Folk-Metal Mafia tour, though in truth only one word of that applies to the two bands: they’re both from Finland. War-painted Moonsorrow play earnest, soaring “epic heathen metal”. There’s little discernible folk influence here, and it’s mostly buried in the keyboards. Korpiklaani’s primary stock-in-trade is short, sharp, relentlessly jolly violin and accordion-driven folk-metal ditties about Sami folklore and drinking, many of which are driven by infectiously danceable humppa rhythms. But, hey, who wants to listen to two bands who sound exactly the same? We get enough of that sort of thing on death metal bills.

This is Moonsorrow’s first show in Bristol and as it’s billed as a co-headlining tour they get the full hour-and-a-half. That’s just as well given that many of their songs push the 15 minute barrier, so they can only squeeze in about eight of them, beginning with the title track of new album Jumalten Aika (yep, all the band’s song titles and lyrics are in Finnish). Despite their epic nature, none of these outstay their welcome, building grandiose, hypnotic soundscapes from the sturdy components of heavy riffage, symphonic keyboards and two contrasting, highly effective singing styles: bassist Ville Sorvali does the lead growls while the guitarists contribute chanted choral vocals not unlike those of Korpiklaani’s previous touring partners, Faroese beserkers Tyr. It all threatens to turn into a metal version of the Game of Thrones theme at any moment. Suden Tunti is introduced jokingly as their “commercial video song”, though it’s just marginally less lengthy than their other stuff, and when they dip back as far as the harsh Ukkosenjumalan Poika one can easily trace how their sound has evolved.

Last time Korpiklaani played here, dreadlocked frontman Jonne Jarvela was, ahem, somewhat the worse for wear. He’s in fine fettle tonight, leading the sextet through the best part of 25 songs with barely a pause for breath let alone introductions. Journey Man gets the fists pumping, while Pilli on Pajusta Tehty (a song about the joys of the traditional willow flute that doesn’t actually feature any wind instruments) prompts the packed audience to erupt into that peculiar Korpiklaani dance – one part headbanging to two parts jigging.

It helps that they’ve got such a tight rhythm section, comprising spry drummer Matti Johansson, who makes it all seem so effortless, and impassive bassist Jarkko Aaltonen, whose huge Santa beard is now even bushier than ever. Deputising for the mysteriously absent Tuomas Rounakari is Turisas’s violinist Olli Vanska, who resembles the young Angus Young in his amusing cap. If he’s had any trouble learning all these songs, there’s absolutely no sign of it, especially when he launches into those furious duels with accordion player Sami Perttula during the likes of Sahti. The pounding Rauta gets everyone singing along with the lyrics that nobody understands, including Jonne’s trademark yoiking.

Of course, they can’t maintain this furious tempo for the best part of two hours, so there are occasional dips with the likes of the lengthy, slightly plodding Mina Nain Vedessa Neidon. But it’s back to those ever-popular drinking songs with the crowd-pleasing set-closer Wooden Pints followed by an encore of Vodka and Beer Beer, which, rather appropriately, spark much drunken tomfoolery and crowd-surfing among an audience that really ought to be exhausted by this stage.