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Album Review: Moonspell - Far From God (Napalm Records, 2026)

  • Jun 27
  • 5 min read
Artwork: Eliran Kantor
Artwork: Eliran Kantor

Written: 27th June 2026


For almost thirty-five years, Portugal’s Moonspell have been casting their alluring gothic shadow over the world of metal. Emerging in the early 1990s, the band quickly became pioneers of the genre, blending dark romanticism, mythology and atmosphere into a sound that is both cinematic and deeply emotive. Five years after Hermitage, the quintet prepare for the release of their thirteenth full-length album, Far From God. Reflecting on its evolution, Fernando Ribeiro states, “To create Far from God we had to wait for the muse. Again, she didn’t fail us and revealed herself in the most mysterious and beautiful ways to us. It took us five long years of hit and miss, of despairing to the point of thinking we didn’t have it anymore and why should we at all create new music. But I’m glad we persisted.”


Cross Your Heart opens the album with an insanely catchy riff that draws us in from the first moments. There are subtle nods to classic gothic rock, echoes of Sisters of Mercy in the song’s pacing and mood, albeit filtered through Moonspell’s heavier, more metallic lens. Lyrically, the track is a journey through loss and memory, reflecting on lives cut short. Markers and saints, carried on shoulders / Roses and thorns, scattered in dust. Ribeiro comments, “Reminiscent of Irreligious with a modern and dark twist, this song tells us about the shrines that we can frequently find on the roads of all countries in the world and that are erected as a painful memory to those who departed in car and bike crashes, often too soon, every time too painfully.” As the song progresses, Pedro Paixão’s keyboards conjure both lush textures and sombre moments that work in perfect harmony with Ribeiro’s beguiling vocals and spoken word.



The title track dives into classic Moonspell territory with a dark, intense story of forbidden vampiric love which Fernando Ribeiro wrote following a renewed interest in the genre. “I lost my faith and hope in vampires for quite a few years. They became the clowns of Hollywood, the cheap Halloween shop customs, the old and disgraceful Princes from the East. Until the film director Robert Eggers brought us Nosferatu in 2024 and I was immediately attracted back to that tragic, romantic character who Bram Stoker immortalised in his letters.” Paixão’s gothic keyboards and Ribeiro’s hauntingly whispered spoken opening sets the scene perfectly. I am not of this Earth and I am not of this time / I don’t even exist / I could never belong / I am far from God. Ricardo Amorim delivers another captivating riff that weaves through the band’s use of dynamics. At times, Moonspell strip the music back before building towards the whole band coming together. During the verses, Amorim’s guitars fall away to leave Aires Pereira’s pulsating bass to drive the song but as the choruses approach, we are waiting for that riff to return. As an opening salvo, Cross Your Heart and Far From God strike with confidence and clarity, channelling the band’s signature darkness into a form that feels revitalised and immediate.


With Biblical, things take an even duskier turn announced by Pereira’s hypnotic, low-end throb. Atmosphere has always been an invaluable weapon in Moonspell’s armoury and Biblical moves through different moods with practiced ease. There is noticeable restraint during much of the song and even on the first chorus, Ribeiro’s vocals remain hushed and enticing. As the second chorus hits, the tension finally breaks open, his voice flaring into the album’s first growls after a slow three-and-a-half-minute climb, giving the moment a real sense of release. Amorim follows with a carefully shaped solo, its layered textures adding depth as the track completely unfurls, allowing Biblical to emerge as one of Far From God’s most absorbing moments.


Stepping up the quality yet further is another contender for the best track here, The Great Wolf in the Sky. Full of gothic majesty in its construction, it has some wonderful sweeping sections that add to the grandiosity of the overall atmosphere. However, these never feel overblown and they are balanced with moments of sheer beauty such as the string contributions of Alicia Nuhro, who I last remember hearing on two tracks on Paradise Lost’s Obsidian. Lyrically, it is a tribute to loss and brotherhood, framed through gothic imagery of werewolves and Nosferatu, suggesting those who are gone endure beyond death in memory and myth. The kingdom wolf it shall be done / Beware the moon that eats the sun / Lest we forget to say our prayers / They will be our final chaos.



As the album enters its second half, Your Promise of Light and For The Love of Mortals continue in a similar vein to much of what has come so far. It might be argued that there is a lack of surprises across Far From God but what Moonspell do, they do very well. Your Promise of Light moves between Ribeiro’s whispers, lustrous vocals and aggressive growls and finds the quintet giving the slower paced track time to breathe. For The Love of Mortals is a meditation on human love and its limitations. It contains some of the most subdued music here, delicately rendered between the vocals and the gentle synths, before gradually building towards a more celebratory conclusion, at least musically. The closing section carries a quiet sense of release, with the lyrics shifting towards acceptance and remembrance rather than outright despair. Hugo Ribeiro has never been the flashiest of drummers and nor does he need to be. His subtle touches prioritise tone, feel and flow more than delivering a show of brute force behind the kit.


Penultimate track Our Freedom To Fall has slightly more weight in the slow, chugging riffs and there are more excellent growling vocals. The sparsity of these across the album mean that they come through stronger here, showing just how carefully they have been rationed. As one of the heaviest tracks on Far From God, it embraces elements of doom metal and works especially well following the more reflective tone of For The Love of Mortals. It delves into guilt and self-destruction, where a figure returns from death to warn the protagonist to break destructive cycles and seek renewal through self-reflection and the acceptance of failure. Reconquista – the longest song here at over six minutes – aims to end the album in epic style. It is certainly more expansive in nature; however, following the excellent mid-song guitar solo, the track meanders a little towards its conclusion.



With Far From God, Moonspell have delivered an extremely solid if not vastly diverse record and one that feels more satisfying as a whole than Hermitage. The shifts in tone and texture are handled with real care throughout. The interplay between the keyboards, guitars and rhythm section gives the songs space to rise and fall without losing momentum. Amorim’s riffs and melodic leads feel especially focused this time around. They are consistently memorable, tying the album together in a way that feels cohesive and purposeful.


It is also refreshing to hear an album immerse itself so fully in gothic romanticism at a time when so many artists are turning outward towards social issues, the rise of AI and beyond – not that these issues are not important but as Fernando Ribeiro puts it, “Far from God is a true crusade against the decline of the style in the past few years, a darkly crafted statement that Moonspell is here to stay and to claim our throne. No politics, no socials, no intervention, just sickly romantic love, vampires, werewolves so we can all die of beauty, in peace and elegance. Goth bless you.” This approach means Far From God draws its strength from immersion and escape, its themes unfolding at their own pace and inviting us deeper with each listen. It is a skill Moonspell have honed for decades and one they still understand better than most. Controlled. Focused. Enduring.  



Far From God is released on 3rd July 2026


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