ROME – The Hierophant (Album Review)

ROME – The Hierophant
Released: December 19, 2025

Lineup

Jerome Reuter | Guitars / Vocals

“The aim of literary ambition is to demonstrate one's greatness of soul.”– Mason Cooley.

Famed aphorist and teacher Mason Cooley, and musician Jerome Reuter, are from different backgrounds, cultures, and even continents; however, they irrefutably share an astounding virtue of ambition – specifically “literary ambition”.

Mr. Cooley sadly passed in 2002, but left behind a selectively significant legacy in academics, and with his thought-provoking writing. Intriguingly, a simple internet search of “Mason Cooley” will almost instantly bring up his renowned quotes and sayings, ahead of any other details.

He assuredly demonstrated a “greatness of soul” with his life’s work in literacy.

Mr. Reuter is irrefutably ambitious with his artistic project ROME and his literary, or more specifically, lyrical ambition. Bringing to a close his astonishing 20-year anniversary of releasing dark folk integrated with post punk and death balladry, and an immeasurably intense touring schedule, Jerome elegantly exhibits a “greatness of soul” with his artistic endeavours. The companion full-length to this double album release entitled The Hierophant (the adventurous acquaintance being The Tower), is an excellent exhibition of his artistry and story-telling poetry. The question is though; does The Hierophant uphold that “greatness” for his fourth LP released in 2025?

Read on…

‍‘Secret Harbour’ commences this next dark folk venture with an unsettling yet compelling cinematic auditory discordance. A traditional neo-folk exploration, emitting a sensational soundscape of Kyrgyzstan’s Darkestrah with perhaps The Northman soundtrack, these 30-seconds delightfully dislocate the listeners from their current reality to a more peaceful but brilliantly brooding atmosphere. It is when Reuter tenderly strums his acoustic guitar, that warmth washes over the witnesses. Wind chimes and xylophone add scintillating textures to the soundscape, but overall, this is a charming exhibition in simplicity and poetry.
“My savagery”, “letters of gold on tablets of marbles”, “salvation”, “speak through me now, my will be done”, “breathe with me now, as of one”, “you were blind, and yet he saw you”, and “our secret harbour” are an array of lyrical excerpts, and themes eerily spoken and crooned throughout the five-and-a-half-minutes. It is nearing a cult-like gospel, or a reading of ancient scripture; unquestionably it is rather disconcerting, but in an artistic counteraction, the journey is completely fascinating. It recalls Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds’ ‘The Weeping Song’, but with a more sinister undertone and marvellous minimalism.

This is undeniably a new undertaking compared to The Tower.

‍‘The Harvest Is Not Here’ is an instantly brighter affair with its acoustic panorama, although its topical traversing is rather depressive. “My life’s work failed me” ROME expresses with a Johnny Cash reflective motif; it’s heartbreaking, yet the composition oddly glimmers.

‍‘Days Of Assembly’ navigates through the acoustic wanderings of Death In June from the early 90s. The subtle horns are an inspirational intonation, and a sense of hope is found as Jerome serenades the three promising words: “A New Century”.

‍‘On Sorrow’s Embarkment’ DEMONstrates the prior disturbing aura again, but with more theatrics in both its narrative, and its sonic landscape. Abrupt war-like chants, a multi-dimensional disarray of vocal movements with references back to “my savagery”, and additional lyrical forebodings including: “Let him pick your life to pieces”, “he’ll send light to the blind, when heavenly minds burn with such earthly fires”, “he was right there all along”, and “this is his morning, how his day begins” sending spine-tingling creepings through the observers.

If Midsommar was to have a sequel, ROME is unmistakably the right song-writer for the soundtrack.

‍‘The Chalice And The Blade’ arouses a Josh Pyke sentimentality and fictional literature. There is despair riddled throughout, but an aspiration for the future. The repetition of “right here” negotiating “where bullets fell”, possibly pertaining to the generalisation of death, is remarkably redressed in a tantalising croon describing where “you will plant the tree” (“right here”), suggesting new life. A paradox of sorts, although it is a powerful one.

‍‘When Light Be Gone’ recalls that Mr. Cash death folk enchantment once again, with string inclusions and a brash honesty in its poetry. “Oh what may come, when light begun” is an incredibly infectious chorus that demands sing-along and is impossible to ignore. ‘The Great White Hopeless’ returns to the Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds’ instruction, along the lines of ‘The Ship Song’ undergoing a pirate or sea shanty reimagination, in a genuine historic representation. This becomes a rather magical escapade in its melancholy.

‍‘My Frail Ambassador’ possibly navigates a discovery of abandonment, or an existential crisis. The recurring question of: “Are you my one true disciple?” is beyond haunting and triggers the spectators to engage with the list of individuals Jerome Reuter melodically utters. Its evocative folk-post-punk ambiance, especially the deranged whispering, would have worked superbly in a scene from Scorsese’s Shutter Island. The readers will have to research themselves to understand this correlation. ‘The Gods Are Slow To Forgive’ then transverses through a tale of Tiresias, the blind prophet, famous for clairvoyance and being transformed into a woman in Greek Mythology. An abstract adventure undoubtedly, however, it sublimely showcases ROME’s literary ambition.

‍‘Apollo Of The Hyperborea’ follows faultlessly, continuing the Greek Mythology theme. This LP epilogue impressively feels like a lost number from The National’s A Skin, A Night + The Virginia EP, with its dynamically dreary and stripped-back nature, but the track also unveils an illumination connectedly.

Apollo was the God of Light And Music, who would annually travel to the fabled northern paradise beyond the northern wind, called “Hyperborea”. This divinely blessed location was known for being a land of sunshine, golden fields, and its people were untouched by war, hard toil and the ravages of old age and disease. ROME encapsulates this imagery, with glistening synthesisers, delicate acoustics, light percussion, ethereal vocal reverberation, enchanting subtle strings, and a romantic essence exhibiting imaginative song-writing.

“The aim of literary ambition is to demonstrate one's greatness of soul.”

‍The Hierophant by ROME has unbound literary ambition, Jerome Reuter’s artistry encompasses that very sentiment with immeasurable soul.

‍The Hierophant however, is not in the realm of greatness. It is in the universe of spectacular intensity, hidden in its own ‘Secret Harbour’ of beloved belonging.

Rating: 7.5/10‍
‍The Tower is out December 19. Pre-order/save here
‍Review by Will Oakeshott. Insta: @teenwolfwill