[Album artwork by Staffan Lindroth]
The last time we gathered together under the Dimhav banner, I was busy losing my grip over the Swede’s very excellent and very sudden debut, 2019’s The Boreal Flame. I say ‘very sudden’ in that everything concerning the band and that initial effort seemed to drop out of the clear blue sky on one random day, and as strange as it feels to admit in 2026, I have a Facebonk algorithm to thank for that initial prompt because it somehow understood the name ‘Daniel Heiman’ might be a priority for me. Hey, remember when algorithms actually did some heavy lifting? Buddy, those were the days.
Anyway, on a rather random day—November 7th, 2019—a post from Daniel Heiman himself (a bonafide rarity, it must be said, after a crucial span of media silence) concerning his fresh involvement with a new band called Dimhav ended up getting prioritized for me upon jumping into my FB account to… who knows, post a picture of a squirrel throwing hands at a plucky crow. And thusly didst this emotional adventure officially commence.
To spice the brew even further, Daniel made his abrupt announcement THE DAY BEFORE that new project’s debut was about to be released, which gave me very little time to: 1) Figure out just who the hell Dimhav was, and 2) Come up with a very cerebral post expressing my excitement for this very smashing news:
Even MORE bonkers: Once the album dropped, and despite casually advertising one of power metal’s most reputable recluses behind the mic as a crucial allure, Dimhav opted to launch The Boreal Flame with a 10-minute instrumental. Like, who the hell… How… Why wouldn’t you…
Dimhav, YOU PLOWED A 10-MINUTE INSTRUMENTAL INTO OUR EARS before even giving us a taste of the advantage that is having ‘Ethereal Magnanimus’, the fellow responsible for the vocal stunts heard throughout “Highlander (The One),” behind the microphone.
It’s fine, though, because it worked. It all worked. It worked wonderfully, and here are a couple things I had to say about The Boreal Flame shortly after its release in 2019:
“This is the first case in what feels like quite some time where the FFO actually hits the target dead center: ‘…It will appeal to fans of bands like Wintersun, Lost Horizon and Symphony X.’ Yes! Right on. The smooth fluidity and jaw-dropping proficiency of the Wintersun debut; the proggy, epic and absorbing substance behind The Odyssey; and all the magnificent energy and bravado that made Lost Horizon crucial—this record is an ideal collision of all these things, with the added bonus of an atmosphere that very much fits that wonderfully luminous cover artwork.”
And:
“If Last Rites still lived in the scoring days, I would be extremely tempted to hand The Boreal Flame a 10/10. And yes, this is stated with full recognition of the fact that three days spent with an album is a very short honeymoon and one swallow does not a summer make. But I feel like I’ve been waiting for Dimhav and a power / prog record of this sort (and caliber) for over a decade, and now that it’s landed—blindsided, no less—I could not be more pleased with the result. Hell, even if this ends up being the only thing this trio manages to thrust into the aether, The Boreal Flame delivers enough ins and outs from start to finish to keep the engine purring for years to come.”
Suffice to say, the Dimhav debut delivered enough on its surprise and promise to become my top pick of 2019, and in the years that followed I sort of resigned myself to the belief that it would find its rightful place amongst a stack of other top-shelf one-shot gems we all have in our collections. In truth, I think part of me might have even hoped for a ‘one-and-done’ status because why tempt fate with the possibility of a sophomore release that might somehow blemish the wonderful adventure that was the discovery, the initiation and the assimilation of The Boreal Flame. Hello, I am a selfish wanker, hear me roar.
Ren and The Littlest Giant
Oh, hello! I didn’t see you there! Ready to meet Dimhav record number two, Ondine?
They, um… They did it again. Not quite a true shadow drop, but media silence for the better part of 7 years and then dropping a new record with less than two months notice? I really didn’t have much of a chance to come to terms with the fact that my resolute ‘one-and-done’ determination was suddenly blasted into bloody smithereens, but I will not deny the fact that the nervous anticipation I felt upon first reading the Ondine announcement leaned harder into “I’M SHITTING MY PANTS! (In a good way!)” again. Ever the class act:
So, what’s new in Dimhavland circa 2026?
Quite a bit, honestly, though Ondine does sound every bit the sister to The Boreal Flame as I’d hoped and expected. The approach still pits Wintersun, Symphony X and Lost Horizon together for an overall yarn that’s as proggy, melodic, epic and complex as anything you’ve heard in recent years, but just as the debut did a remarkable job of achieving its governing theme both musically and in the way it “felt,” Ondine does so in a largely separate way.
To further illustrate the point, there are times when this record is flailing furiously enough from all directions that I might even suggest replacing the Wintersun connect with a band more apt to storm, like maybe Moonsorrow? Splitting hairs, sure, but walk into the foray with the understanding that Ondine often feels quite a bit angrier and more unpredictable compared to the band’s debut.
That being said, as I am often over-eager to point out, for every action in nature, there is an equal and opposite reaction, and that obviously includes the forces put forth throughout Ondine. So, given the record’s penchant for wave-crashing unrest, this time around Dimhav opts for a counterbalance that’s even lighter and more delicate compared to what was delivered in 2019, which also happens to complement the album’s water spirit motif. Gone are the warm acoustic flourishes that offset the cold heaviness of The Boreal Flame, and in swoops a placid orchestral softness largely centered on guest oboist Malin Klingborg.
As evidenced by a song like “Pilgrimage,” Ondine also feels quite a bit more proggy and complex compared to the debut. There’s an endless sea of leads—guitar AND keyboard—to soak in, and essentially every song features some sort of tempo / mood shift(s) to accommodate an ever-evolving storyline. The riffing is still as buttery as it was 7 years ago, but it also feels a bit more indebted to thrash when things really start to cook.
And hey! Somehow I’ve gotten this deep into the sauce without even mentioning the presence of Daniel Heiman, which feels just as brazen / bat-shit bonkers as leading off a record he’s fronting with a 10-minute instrumental. As expected, Daniel sounds fantastic—I wouldn’t even pretend to understand how his voice never seems to lose an ounce of its power and range. Is… Is he actually human? Do we not hear from him directly all that often (or AT ALL) because he actually lives in the sea? Has anyone checked his neck for gills? If you need further proof of his continued glory, please enjoy the fully absurd stunt he pulls 6:50 into opener “Tides Immemorial,” or basically throughout the whole of the wonderfully catchy “Windward Bound.”
All said and done, there is just A LOT to unpack here—too much to yield a comprehensive summary after spending just over a week with these songs. As such, I’d probably caution fresh ears and newcomers to the band to approach the record with a bit of patience because the hooks aren’t quite as immediate as they were for The Boreal Flame. But, again, I think that’s mostly due to them getting swept up in the overall uproar / proginess / bedlam amidst initial spins. Over time, I fully expect this bracing one-hour voyage to settle in just deep and deeply as did The Boreal Flame, and whether or not Ondine eventually eclipses its predecessor matters a hell of a lot less than simply enjoying the very epic ride.
And as far as the future’s concerned, I would have to imagine that, at the least, Dimhav should shoot for the blessed hat-trick. After all, the best things in life come in threes—it’s the magic number—and there doesn’t appear to be much of a ceiling to what this trio is capable of generating.
