Wardruna, Jo Quail – Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Hall 17.03.2025 – GIG REVIEW

March 17th, St Patrick’s Day, Liverpool. The streets were lined in a brilliant shade of emerald green as many flocked to the city center to celebrate their Irish heritage. Though I lived there for several years, I forgot how hard the city celebrates this day. Though I wasn’t there to drink Guinness nor to sing ‘Whiskey In The Jar’ with my friends. No, I was there for Wardruna. Describing themselves as a “Norwegian music constellation dedicated to weaving together the ancient sounds and traditions of the north into a modern soundscape”,  they pay homage to a very different type of ancestry through the medium of music. Their live ritual is an ode to their Pagan roots, sung in the voice of Old Norse and utilising the traditional instruments of their forefathers that bring to life the way of this ancient culture. A ritual that has won fans all over the world for their captivating and all-encapsulating performances (largely in part due to this authentic and one-of-a-kind performance). My experience of the band had been confined to just Spotify and YouTube videos, so to see this in the flesh truly would be a bucket list experience for me.

 

Despite living in the city for several years, this was only the second time I had visited the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic and the first time in the ‘main’ Hall. Wardruna has graced venues across the world including major metal festival stages such as Hellfest, Brutal Assault, and Wacken. However, there was something very different about this prestigious and grandiose setting. Different from the dimly lit dungeon-like venues I normally frequent but love dearly. As I’m now approaching my mid-30s at a rate that I find unacceptable, the prospect of an evening’s entertainment experience from a comfy box office seat had me salivating for days prior! Normally I’d be catching up with friends over a pint of cider with metal classics blurring over the venue’s PA speaker before the first band taking to the stage. Here, the Philharmonic Hall was filled with the sounds of thunder, birds singing and other voices of nature to get you in the Pagan spirit. This was mixed with the buzz of friends chatting away, young, old, large, small, and from all walks of life (as well as a sea of metal band t-shirts, speaking to Wardruna’s respect within this community). All in anticipation for the evening’s entertainment. An evening that would begin with world-class cellist, songwriter, and musical genius in her own right, Jo Quail.

Jo Quail

The name had been one familiar to me for a number of years, having performed with every post-rock/metal artist worth naming, whether in a live or studio capacity. Though I confess that I had never actually listened to any of her solo work. Resisting the urge to visit Spotify, I wanted the experience of discovering her music to be live and in the flesh. In its purest form.

It was one woman and her electric cello against the world. I had never anticipated how she could have possibly drawn so much life and vitality from an inanimate piece of wood, some pickups, and a few strings! Truly, the energy she cultivated was palpable and tangible! The clever deployment of effects loops and dramatic cinematic backing tracks added a wonderful depth and extra dimension to her work (it was fun listening to her geek out and talk about this in between songs too). Those who have followed my work recently will know of my disdain for those who feel it’s acceptable to incessantly talk during the band’s performance. Tonight, everybody was either totally absorbed in the performance or showing respect by keeping quiet. In either case, this was infinitely refreshing to be able to listen to and become immersed in this without the distraction of such poor gig etiquette. 3 songs or 25 minutes (depending on which tariff you use) was way too short for such a clinic! An exhibition that transcends what one would think is possible with the humble cello. A deep dive into her back catalog will be much needed!

Wardruna

Disclaimer; this review will lack cohesion and structure, owing to the fact that my senses were completely and utterly pulverised this evening. As such, I attempt to reconstruct my memories of this magical experience from the little shards of my brain that were scattered on the floor of the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Hall.

 

Eleven before the band had hit a note, the atmosphere conjured up with the arrangement of flowers and greenery on stage coinciding with the olfactory stimulation of burning incense could fool you into thinking that you’re at one with Mother Nature herself. Then ‘Kvitravn’ started, with the warm and soothing mora-harp melodies inviting you into the evening’s festivities. This was joined by the cavernous drums that shook your trousers and rocked the very core of your being, a theme that would continue throughout the evening! The synergy and juxtaposition of Einer and Lindy-Fay’s vocals was truly spellbinding on occasions, with their ethereal voices enough to invoke the spirits of the band’s Norse ancestors! Though this was sung in Old Norse, you didn’t need to speak this language to be able to feel the sheer emotional depth in their voices. After all, music is the universal language, right?

This perhaps is best illustrated during a moment where it was just Einar himself under the spotlight with his lyre. Whether it was a lullaby, serenade, or tribute to fallen family members, the raw sentiment in his voice and the instrumental accompaniment was impossible to ignore.

From soothing and calming through to nightmare-invoking. Lindy-Fay seemingly began to invoke an ancient ritual, navigating the stage in a manner that would suggest an attempt to communicate with the Pagan spirits of old. The primitive shrieks as ethereal as they were haunting were enough to raise your pulse way beyond resting levels. The ritual closed with her assuming a central position on stage and seemingly targeting this energy toward the crowd. She continued with the primitive ear-piercing shrieks, accompanied by a strobe lighting display like something from a horror movie was enough to induce nightmares in those present. Talk about theatrics!

I could fill this with multiple analogies from the evening. Just trust me when I say this is something you simply cannot download nor experience via video and needs to be seen in the flesh. Especially given the near-perfect sound and mix. Genuinely, no note was even remotely out of place! I cannot even begin to decipher how complex the production values were for this set nor fully comprehend the musical genius of Einer Selvik for composing this. Before the final song ‘Helvegen’, he gave an utterly heartfelt speech with every single word believable and true. We learned that this was the first time the band had visited Liverpool and to receive such an ovation was something he found overwhelming. He also spoke of the power music and singing together has in uniting people, something the world truly needs more of at present. Maybe the world needs Wardruna to spread this message more than we know it!

 

As I made my way back to my car, the sun had now set whilst the bars were still filled with many in green attire, whilst others were stumbling through the streets having drank way too many pints of Guinness. It was easy to forget that these celebrations had been taking place whilst I was in a seemingly different world within the same city only minutes prior. Normally I’d have that post-gig rush, but I couldn’t help but feel a sense of despair. Despair due to the fact that I didn’t want this to end and had no certainty of when I’d get to experience this again. But to paraphrase Shakespeare, “‘tis better to have seen Wardruna than to have not” (or something like that). If you’ve never seen Wardruna, do everything in your power to make this happen! You won’t regret it.