Where the Earth Meets the Sea: Heimland on Ten Years of Black Metal and Their New Album Der Torv Møter Hav

Where the Earth Meets the Sea: Heimland on Ten Years of Black Metal and Their New Album Der Torv Møter Hav

Few bands embody the spirit of Norwegian Black Metal’s raw mysticism quite like Heimland. Emerging from Bergen’s fertile underground, the group has carved out a decade of uncompromising soundscapes steeped in heritage, defiance, and atmosphere. With their latest release, Der Torv Møter Hav (Edged Circle Productions), Heimland channel the ancient laws and landscapes of Norway into a record that is both a rejection of conformity and a proud embrace of exile.

In this conversation, vocalist/lyricist Fanden (Eirik) and drummer/founding member Lord Thamuz (Kristian) reflect on the band’s origins, the inspiration behind their new album, and what it means to carry the torch of Black Metal into its next chapter.

We’re here with two members of Heimland. First of all, introduce yourselves and tell me how long you’ve been with the band.
Fanden: I’m Fanden — or Eirik. I’ve been in Heimland for almost exactly two years now. I handle vocals and write the lyrics.

Kristian: My name is Kristian, and I play drums in Heimland. I’m the founding member — I started the band about 10 years ago. Over the years, there have been many members, but I’ve always been the constant behind the drums.

Where is the band based, and what is your local metal scene like?
Kristian: We’re based in Bergen. The scene here is much bigger compared to smaller towns. It really depends on where you are in Norway — in places like Karmøy where I’m originally from, the scene is much smaller. But Bergen and Oslo are definitely the strongest hubs for metal.

I’ll refer to the songs in English to avoid butchering the Norwegian titles. Let’s start with Spread My Ashes Where the Peat Meets the Sea (Der Torv Møter Hav). What inspired the album title?
Fanden: The English translation is a bit rough — I think a better one would be Where the Earth Meets the Sea. It’s a reference to the first Christian law in Norway. If you were a witch, a criminal, or excommunicated from Christian society, you weren’t allowed to be buried in consecrated ground. Instead, you were legally bound to be buried where the earth meets the sea — between the high and low tide marks.  That imagery became the foundation of the album: rejecting society, embracing exile, and proudly living as an outlaw or outcast.

Let’s talk about the first single, Vagrant. What was the inspiration behind it?
Fanden: Vagrant was the first song I wrote lyrics for after joining Heimland. I wanted to capture the feeling of being an outsider — not just socially, but also creatively. Joining an established band felt like trespassing into someone else’s artistic space, even though I was welcomed.

The lyrics aren’t about straightforward emotions; they’re more like a mood board of words and sounds. I try to paint scenes and impressions rather than follow a strict narrative. The song is about journeying into the unknown, accepting yourself, and rejecting outside influence.

There’s a philosophical element too — like Descartes’ Cogito, ergo sum (“I think, therefore I am”). That phrase comes from stripping away everything until only the essence remains. Vagrant is about that process of elimination and self-acceptance.

Moving on to the second track, The Thousand Altars’ Demise (De tusen alters endelikt). Is that a fair translation?
Fanden: It’s closer to “the death of a thousand hogs,” actually. Again, it’s about being an outsider, but this time with a more materialistic edge. Throughout the record, there’s this recurring “I” character, and here it reflects disdain for the powerful.

With everything happening in the world — wars, corruption, people in positions of power who shouldn’t be there — it’s easy to feel disillusioned. This song isn’t a literal call to arms, but more of a series of images expressing contempt for authority and the structures that uphold it.

The track Nordhordland nods to a specific region. What significance does this place hold for Heimland, and how does it manifest in your music?
Fanden: That’s where I grew up. It’s part of Vestland —  fylkeskommune, which is the official name now. Not too long ago, several counties and districts were merged to save money, so many of the old names aren’t used officially anymore. For Heimland, Nordhordland doesn’t necessarily carry a specific meaning, but for me personally, it’s deeply tied to my upbringing.

Kristian: It’s mystical. On our last record, Forfedrenes Tårer, the cover featured a Viking church from Karmøy, where the band was originally formed. So it’s very much an homage to places that hold meaning for us.

Fanden: The landscape there is coastal, heavily forested, and still quite untamed — lots of woods and barren areas. The song itself is an ode to nostalgia fading. The further away those childhood places and times become, the more beautiful they seem, and the harder you have to work to recapture that feeling.

Nordhordland is a thematic break from the rest of the record. It’s less about the recurring “I” character and more about my own reflections on growing up, realizing not only that I’m an adult now, but that I’m getting older. I’ve always chased the mystical — not necessarily the dark, but the mysterious — and that region embodies it for me. Even though I’ve changed and the world around me has changed, the land itself remains. It’s the earth, the woods, the forests. If it feels different now, it’s because I’ve changed, not the land.

Andreas Fosse Salbu of Gaahl’s Wyrd mixed and mastered the album, and he’s also played live with you. How did he become involved with Heimland?
Kristian: We had a show in Bergen. Our bassist at the time, was double-booked with one of his old bands in Oslo, so we needed someone to step in. Since we already knew Andreas, he filled in for that gig.

Fanden: But that was just the one show. I wasn’t in the band yet, so I don’t know how he became the go-to guy for the first singles.

Kristian: He wanted to get into recording, mixing, and mastering, so he offered to practice with us. It wasn’t about being cheap — more like a favor. We gave him some money, and he got the experience. Around the time of Fimbulvinter, we didn’t have much funding — pandemic struggles, a new lineup, and we wanted to restart Heimland with a fresh sound and image.

Since then, every release has been a strong collaboration with Andreas. We’ve evolved together — the band’s sound has grown alongside his work, and that partnership has shaped where we are now.

Eirik, how did you end up being listed as the vocalist for Taake? Are you still doing that?
Fanden: No, absolutely not. That’s a misunderstanding. Someone in the audience must have added it to Metal Archives after one night where I filled in live vocals. The site doesn’t allow you to list specific dates, only years, so it looks like I was their vocalist for a longer period.

The truth is, during a tour, Hoest couldn’t perform a couple of songs, so I stepped in — and bombed spectacularly. But it was fun. Taake is a band we’ve all listened to for most of our lives, so it was surreal. It felt like a 12-year-old’s fantasy: you’re touring with Taake, something goes wrong, and suddenly the vocalist asks you to step in. Not exactly that, but close enough.

Kristian: It was a medical emergency on the tour. Taake has never canceled a show, so we did everything possible to keep it going.

Fanden: Just to set the record straight — I am not Taake’s live vocalist, despite what Metal Archives says.