INTERVIEW: Thunarwülf

The Sheffield-formed folk metal outfit sit down with us to talk metal festivals, Celtic mythology, creepy Morris dancers, and Dire Straits.

INTERVIEW: Thunarwülf

By Kathryn Edwards

Sep 25, 2025 12:00

After searching for a quiet corner of Bloodstock (there is no such thing, it turns out) to sit and chat, we end up settling for what can only be described as a tiny glade in the middle of the adjoining forest between the artist area and the arena; incredibly apt for a folk metal band. "It's our first Bloodstock, yeah. We've played at Warhorns before, which is small, independent, predominantly has folk metal, but lots of black metal too," Hazel Mayow, Thunarwülf's whistle player, explains. "It's just a one-day thing," they continue, "we've played that with Sior, which is like Vansinder, who are amazing." Bassist Jesse Armstrong chimes in; "Yeah, Vansinder are really good, aren't they? We're really good mates with them now, and it's really nice that every time I post something about a band I really like, they send me a little card!" It's clear that there's a huge sense of community in the folk metal scene; "Everyone loves each other, and people like you," Armstrong continues. "Yeah, we're all just really into each other's music, aren't we?", quips Mayow.

When asked about the roots of their sound, the band trace their origins back to a shared love of folk traditions and the heavier side of metal. “We were all into folk metal already,” Mayow explains, recalling their own background in the genre as well as their upbringing in a family of folk musicians. Sheffield’s thriving folk scene played its part too, with keytarist Karen O’Donnell already a familiar face in the city’s folk-tronica community. Mayow describes how a casual post in the Folk Metal Grove Facebook group sparked the project, leading them to make the trip from Manchester to join in: “I didn’t really expect any reply, but I gave it a try.” Armstrong points out how the driving rhythms of ceilidh music seemed a natural fit for heavier riffs, while Mayow adds that their ceilidh band already had bass and drums pushing the sound into louder, rockier territory. For Armstrong, the chance to finally embrace folk metal felt like a long-delayed opportunity; “I’ve wanted to do a folk metal band for so many years; finally I found somebody who said ‘let’s do a folk metal band together.'” Andrew Gibson’s story of joining is equally serendipitous, bumping into an old college friend at a Decapitated show just after lockdown. “Not seen you in years… he’s like ‘do you want to start a folk metal band?’ And then he disappeared into the crowd,” he laughs, before summing up that surreal beginning with “And Thunarwülf was born.”

Talking about their individual paths into folk metal, the band reveal a mix of classic gateways and happy accidents. Gibson points to the Scandinavian melodic death metal scene as his first love, with bands like Children of Bodom and Norther shaping his taste, while also crediting folk-tinged acts such as Ensiferum. “My first introduction to folk metal was Finntroll’s “Trollhammaren”, back in the early days of YouTube,” he laughs. “It was silly, but it stuck in my head, and slowly I just found more bands, more gigs, until it became my jam.” Mayow’s route came from a lifetime surrounded by traditional music, blended with a hunger for heaviness; “As a kid, I was always falling in love with the heaviest thing I’d ever heard; at one point that was just a wall of Scottish fiddles. Then I found pop-punk, then britpop’s angrier edges, then death and black metal at uni, and I was like: ‘fucking hell, where did blast beats come from?'” For them, Finntroll’s blend of joy and absurdity proved the point that folk metal could work. Armstong, meanwhile, recalls first bonding with bandmate Gibson over early discoveries like Children of Bodom and Ensiferum, before following the trail on to Turisas and Moonsorrow. “Once you find a few of those bands, you see the same names popping up again and again,” he notes.

When pressed on the one band that really lit the spark for each of them, the answers span generations and genres. Gibson remembers hearing The Smashing Pumpkins and Megadeth blasting from a neighbour’s window as a kid, before bouncing between Savage Garden, Backstreet Boys and Blink-182, then arriving at Avenged Sevenfold and Linkin Park’s ‘Hybrid Theory’, to eventually dive headlong into Scandinavian death metal. Mayow, on the other hand, recalls Dire Straits and the blues at home, then moving on to Green Day, The Offspring and Rage Against the Machine before falling for System of a Down’s ability to weave Armenian folk rhythms into metal – “It proved that everything doesn’t have to be 4/4; it can be more interesting.” For Armstrong, the spark was lit early by an older brother’s Iron Maiden tapes. “I was eight years old at a Christian primary school, singing ‘six, six, six, the number of the beast’ in the playground,” he grins. “The teacher absolutely played hell with me, and I didn’t even know what it meant!” That love never faded, and Armstrong admits he still sneaks as many Maiden-inspired galloping rhythms and dual guitar harmonies into the band’s music as possible. Mayow nods in agreement saying “That influence is clearly there in our sound, those classic metal styles run deep.”

With their latest material, the band have embraced a mix of reinvention and mythology. After changing singers, they chose to revisit their debut EP, re-recording the tracks with Will now firmly established as frontperson. “The new track that came out on Thursday, ‘“Cailleach’, is the first single off our new EP,” Armstrong explains. “We’re going to release the four tracks separately, one at a time; it’s a nicer way for people to engage with the songs, rather than dropping them all at once.” Mayow adds that the band still plan to offer a physical release for those who want it, complete with striking visuals.

Artwork is clearly a point of pride, and the band light up when talking about it. Gibson grins; “The artwork on the new EP is sick.” It was created by Rob Richardson, a current illustrator for Judge Dredd. Armstrong, a lifelong 2000 AD fan, had reached out on a whim and was amazed when Richardson agreed. The resulting cover for “Cailleach” captures the Scottish winter goddess in vivid, powerful detail. Mayow praises the design’s strength, “You could have just made her look creepy, but instead she looks powerful, frosty, fierce, and commanding. I love that.” The band explain that the Cailleach is a deity who controls the arrival, severity, and end of winter. Mayow summarises with relish that “She smacks the ground with her hammer, and that’s it; frost time. Good for her.”

The storytelling naturally bleeds into the music itself. The track draws on a traditional European folk melody, one that Mayow and O’Donnell knew well from the Balfolk scene. “It’s just a tune that’s out there in the ether; people in Sheffield play it, people dance to it,” Mayow says. From there, the band layered their own spin. Armstrong describes how drummer Nick  Robinson pushed for a heavier, Soilwork-inspired approach. “We had this folk melody, so we thought ‘if this were a Scandinavian melodic death metal song, what would the chord progression be? Let’s throw in dual guitar harmonies, make it dramatic on stage, and really lean into that vibe.'” Guitarist Rich Marsden adds that the live version heightens that sense of theatre, with vocalist Will Price opening by pounding out floor toms as the full band kicks in.

The conversation naturally drifts towards the band’s upcoming EP. Mayow explains that the song they’ve just been talking about is part of a larger project: “All the songs are nearly done,” they say, “we’re just polishing them at this point.” Gibson chips in with news of a music video planned for later in the year, “We’re recording it in August and September, probably starting next week.” The band can’t resist adding a little tease; it will feature Morris dancers, of the decidedly creepy variety. “Yep”, Mayow grins, “creepy Morris dancers.” Armstrong nods emphatically. “Definitely creepy Morris dancers.”

As for the lyrics, Gibson admits his part was minimal. “I googled Scottish deities and saw the Cailleach, the winter hag. It sounded cool, so I threw together a first draft. But when Will joined, I told him to make it his own. He did, and it became something much better.” Armstrong laughs off the credit, calling Gibson “the ideas guy”, but Mayow is quick to highlight his strengths: “What Gibby does is take something quite straightforward and add those extra layers. He and Rich work brilliantly together, building harmonies and textures that make everything more multi-dimensional.” Often, Mayow and O’Donnell will bring in bright folk tunes, only for Gibson to transform them: “We’ll play something really cheerful and twee, and he’ll just turn it into pure filth,” Mayow says, delighted. “It’s almost a challenge now; how sweet a tune can we give him before he ruins it?” That playful push-and-pull between folk charm and metal grit is at the heart of the band’s songwriting, giving their newer material its distinctive bite.

KATHRYN EDWARDS


Thunarwülf’s new single, Cailleach, is set to arrive this winter as part of their upcoming EP, and they’ll be bringing their frost-bitten folk-metal chaos to the stage this autumn. Catch them headlining Corporation and playing Powerlines in Sheffield this September, before heading to Newcastle, Liverpool with Adfeilion, and London’s Fiddler’s Elbow in October. Keep tabs on the band via their social media and Bandcamp; there’s magic, mischief, and thunderous riffs afoot.
Image courtesy of Jayne Slater @madeinerror.media