Immortal - All Shall Fall (LP)

Immortal’s All Shall Fall lands like a winter squall that’s been gathering for years. The band went on ice after Sons of Northern Darkness in 2002, then returned to the stage in 2007, and this 2009 full-length on Nuclear Blast feels like a deliberate statement that the frost never thawed. It’s the first Immortal album with Apollyon on bass, flanking the stalwarts Abbath on guitar and vocals and Horgh on drums, and the chemistry is immediate. There’s a clear through line from the towering riffcraft of At the Heart of Winter and Sons of Northern Darkness, but the writing is tighter, more focused, as if the layoff sharpened the edges.

That title track is a classic curtain-raiser. The opening guitar theme has that glacial shimmer Immortal do so well, then Abbath’s rasp cuts in and the song locks into a marching tempo that keeps tightening the vise. It’s not about speed for speed’s sake. It’s about a riff that burrows into the skull and a drum pattern that makes the room feel smaller. Horgh is precise as a metronome yet never stiff, and he drives the album as much as any guitar line. When “The Rise of Darkness” kicks up, he starts swinging into a faster gear, and the whole thing suddenly glows with that cold blue flame that made their late 90s work so addictive.

Production-wise, the record sits in a sweet spot. It’s clear without sanding off the frostbite, mixed and mastered by Peter Tägtgren at Abyss Studios, which will ring a bell for anyone who followed Immortal’s late 90s and early 2000s run. Guitars are huge but not bloated, bass actually registers, and the kick drum snaps clean through the blizzard. You can make out the picking attack in the tremolo lines, so the harmonies in “Arctic Swarm” really bloom. That track is a sleeper highlight. The chorus riff feels like cresting a ridge and seeing the whiteout give way to a savage, bright clearing.

If you came for battle songs, “Hordes to War” does exactly what its title promises. It’s the shortest, nastiest cut here, the one that sends elbows flying when they play it live. Abbath’s phrasing on the verses has that grinning, venomous swing, and the pre-chorus climbs with a simple, perfect logic. Then they close the whole record with “Unearthly Kingdom,” a slow, regal march that stretches past the six-minute mark and earns every second. The clean guitar figures that thread through the song feel icy without turning pretty, and the final descent is one of those Immortal moments where the world shrinks to a single, lonely peak.

What sticks is how confident this comeback sounds. Lots of bands return after a hiatus trying to relive a moment or chase what’s current. Immortal just sound like Immortal. The minute Abbath barks and the guitar roars to life, you get that rush that made you flip the record sleeve as a teenager. Critics heard it too at the time, calling it a strong return, and fans who grew up on the Blizzard Beasts to Sons of Northern Darkness run tend to file All Shall Fall right alongside them. It’s not a nostalgia trip. It’s a continuation.

For crate diggers, All Shall Fall vinyl belongs next to the old warhorses. If you’ve been trawling shops for Immortal vinyl, this one turns up less than the 90s classics but it’s worth snagging when you see it. The artwork looks menacing on a 12-inch sleeve, and the punchy mix translates well on a decent turntable. I’ve seen copies in a tucked-away Melbourne record store more than once, and if you’re hunting from home there are plenty of places to buy Immortal records online without resorting to auction madness. Immortal albums on vinyl still feel like totems in a collection, and All Shall Fall vinyl earns its spot.

Maybe the best compliment is this. Put it on late at night, volume a little ruder than the neighbors would like, and you get transported to that stark, frozen Immortal world. Riffs tower. Drums crack. The voice of Abbath rides the wind. For a band with that much lore behind them, the album doesn’t coast on reputation. It reminds you why the legend exists in the first place.