#nov24 — Public Fediverse posts

Record(s) o’ the Month – November 2024

By Angry Metal Guy

It’s the penultimate month of 2024 and the last installment of Record(s) o’ the Month for this trip around the Sun. We had some good times, didn’t we? Remember when we got some of these pieces posted on time? Yeah, that was great. Remember when you all agreed with our choices? I don’t, but I’m getting on in years and my mind isn’t what it once was. Anyway, it’s been a blast and I can’t wait to restart the vicious cycle in 2025. Onward.

Opeth is a fascinating band in the trajectory of metal because it’s difficult to say that there are other bands who have quite done what these Swedish legends have done. Throughout Opeth’s long and storied career, this legendary outfit has shown itself to be unafraid of change—but also pretty good at it. The Last Will and Testament (out November 22nd, 2024 from Reigning Phoenix Music/Moderbolaget) is remarkable in that it is an extension of the style that Opeth has been building toward since 2011’s much-maligned Heritage, yet it once again has recreated the band’s sound. And while The Last Will and Testament has been sold as Opeth returning to its roots, I disagree. Opeth in 2024 is writing songs that do not resemble the Oldepeth we all fell in love with and yet sound like no one but Opeth. The songs are contained, the concept is methodical, the lyrics are intentional and considered, and the sound is unrelentingly jazzy. Suppose there’s a knock on this album. In that case, it’s that the tendency towards abstraction and unresolved chord progressions can at times make the writing feel like it wanders or suffers from the same kind of unmemorability affliction as Wintersun’s latest. Yet unlike Finland’s most persistent vaporware developer, Opeth delivers. And The Last Will and Testament is something unique, well-crafted, and impactful. With a kind of surgical joy, El Cuervo concurred in his excellent review: “The Last Will and Testament doesn’t yield any weaknesses. On their fourteenth go-round, Opeth has once more delivered something exemplary in conception, performance, and production.” And honestly, if Opeth has reached the overwrought rock opera concept album stage of their career, I am fucking here for it.

Runner(s) Up:

Fellowship // The Skies Above Eternity [November 22nd, 2024 | Scarlet Records | Bandcamp] — England’s Fellowship put all the Fromage back into Europower and then some. 2022’s The Sabrelight Chronicles was dripping with saccharine leads, uplifting choruses, and it oozed more positivity than a week-long Tony Robbins retreat.1 It scored a rare perfect rating here and fans of cheesecore rejoiced the world over. They followed that triumph up with more of the same on The Skies Above Eternity, serving up the joyous, happy times pop-infected power candy that Helloweenies crave and the world deserves. The Skies Above Eternity is packed with songs forged to stick in the brain giving the world a rosy tint. As a fanboying Eldritch gushed, “This record doesn’t just confirm that Fellowship’s initial success was anything but a fluke; it assures me that they both understand and have preserved what made them so special in the first place.” Europower is as Europower does.

Stenched // Purulence Gushing from the Coffin [November 26th, 2024 | Me Saco Un Ojo Records | Bandcamp] — As the name suggests, Stenched plays ugly, reeking death metal of the foulest order. A one-man project from Mexico, Stenched delivers all the oozing, cavernous, sub-basement gut swill anyone could want and even offers the added bonus of well-written, interesting songs. Yes, it’s pure filth and as grotesque as possible but Purulence Gushing from the Coffin has that “it” factor that keeps you coming back for another dip in the scum pond against doctor’s orders.2 As a shocked and appalled Steel gasped, “Purulence Gushing from the Coffin is Plato’s ideal form of a death metal album, and Steel is with that old toga-wearing bastard on this one. It combines everything I love dearly about Incantation, Carcass, Demilich, and Chthe’ilist into one savory mouthful, and brother, it is toothsome!” Go smell what Stenched is cooking.

#2024 #BlogPosts #Fellowship #Nov24 #Opeth #PurulenceGushingFromTheCoffin #RecordOTheMonth #RecordSOTheMonth #Stenched #TheLastWillAndTestament #TheSkiesAboveEternity #Wintersun

Record(s) o’ the Month – November 2024

By Angry Metal Guy

It’s the penultimate month of 2024 and the last installment of Record(s) o’ the Month for this trip around the Sun. We had some good times, didn’t we? Remember when we got some of these pieces posted on time? Yeah, that was great. Remember when you all agreed with our choices? I don’t, but I’m getting on in years and my mind isn’t what it once was. Anyway, it’s been a blast and I can’t wait to restart the vicious cycle in 2025. Onward.

Opeth is a fascinating band in the trajectory of metal because it’s difficult to say that there are other bands who have quite done what these Swedish legends have done. Throughout Opeth’s long and storied career, this legendary outfit has shown itself to be unafraid of change—but also pretty good at it. The Last Will and Testament (out November 22nd, 2024 from Reigning Phoenix Music/Moderbolaget) is remarkable in that it is an extension of the style that Opeth has been building toward since 2011’s much-maligned Heritage, yet it once again has recreated the band’s sound. And while The Last Will and Testament has been sold as Opeth returning to its roots, I disagree. Opeth in 2024 is writing songs that do not resemble the Oldepeth we all fell in love with and yet sound like no one but Opeth. The songs are contained, the concept is methodical, the lyrics are intentional and considered, and the sound is unrelentingly jazzy. Suppose there’s a knock on this album. In that case, it’s that the tendency towards abstraction and unresolved chord progressions can at times make the writing feel like it wanders or suffers from the same kind of unmemorability affliction as Wintersun’s latest. Yet unlike Finland’s most persistent vaporware developer, Opeth delivers. And The Last Will and Testament is something unique, well-crafted, and impactful. With a kind of surgical joy, El Cuervo concurred in his excellent review: “The Last Will and Testament doesn’t yield any weaknesses. On their fourteenth go-round, Opeth has once more delivered something exemplary in conception, performance, and production.” And honestly, if Opeth has reached the overwrought rock opera concept album stage of their career, I am fucking here for it.

Runner(s) Up:

Fellowship // The Skies Above Eternity [November 22nd, 2024 | Scarlet Records | Bandcamp] — England’s Fellowship put all the Fromage back into Europower and then some. 2022’s The Sabrelight Chronicles was dripping with saccharine leads, uplifting choruses, and it oozed more positivity than a week-long Tony Robbins retreat.1 It scored a rare perfect rating here and fans of cheesecore rejoiced the world over. They followed that triumph up with more of the same on The Skies Above Eternity, serving up the joyous, happy times pop-infected power candy that Helloweenies crave and the world deserves. The Skies Above Eternity is packed with songs forged to stick in the brain giving the world a rosy tint. As a fanboying Eldritch gushed, “This record doesn’t just confirm that Fellowship’s initial success was anything but a fluke; it assures me that they both understand and have preserved what made them so special in the first place.” Europower is as Europower does.

Stenched // Purulence Gushing from the Coffin [November 26th, 2024 | Me Saco Un Ojo Records | Bandcamp] — As the name suggests, Stenched plays ugly, reeking death metal of the foulest order. A one-man project from Mexico, Stenched delivers all the oozing, cavernous, sub-basement gut swill anyone could want and even offers the added bonus of well-written, interesting songs. Yes, it’s pure filth and as grotesque as possible but Purulence Gushing from the Coffin has that “it” factor that keeps you coming back for another dip in the scum pond against doctor’s orders.2 As a shocked and appalled Steel gasped, “Purulence Gushing from the Coffin is Plato’s ideal form of a death metal album, and Steel is with that old toga-wearing bastard on this one. It combines everything I love dearly about Incantation, Carcass, Demilich, and Chthe’ilist into one savory mouthful, and brother, it is toothsome!” Go smell what Stenched is cooking.

#2024 #BlogPosts #Fellowship #Nov24 #Opeth #PurulenceGushingFromTheCoffin #RecordOTheMonth #RecordSOTheMonth #Stenched #TheLastWillAndTestament #TheSkiesAboveEternity #Wintersun

Record(s) o’ the Month – November 2024

By Angry Metal Guy

It’s the penultimate month of 2024 and the last installment of Record(s) o’ the Month for this trip around the Sun. We had some good times, didn’t we? Remember when we got some of these pieces posted on time? Yeah, that was great. Remember when you all agreed with our choices? I don’t, but I’m getting on in years and my mind isn’t what it once was. Anyway, it’s been a blast and I can’t wait to restart the vicious cycle in 2025. Onward.

Opeth is a fascinating band in the trajectory of metal because it’s difficult to say that there are other bands who have quite done what these Swedish legends have done. Throughout Opeth’s long and storied career, this legendary outfit has shown itself to be unafraid of change—but also pretty good at it. The Last Will and Testament (out November 22nd, 2024 from Reigning Phoenix Music/Moderbolaget) is remarkable in that it is an extension of the style that Opeth has been building toward since 2011’s much-maligned Heritage, yet it once again has recreated the band’s sound. And while The Last Will and Testament has been sold as Opeth returning to its roots, I disagree. Opeth in 2024 is writing songs that do not resemble the Oldepeth we all fell in love with and yet sound like no one but Opeth. The songs are contained, the concept is methodical, the lyrics are intentional and considered, and the sound is unrelentingly jazzy. Suppose there’s a knock on this album. In that case, it’s that the tendency towards abstraction and unresolved chord progressions can at times make the writing feel like it wanders or suffers from the same kind of unmemorability affliction as Wintersun’s latest. Yet unlike Finland’s most persistent vaporware developer, Opeth delivers. And The Last Will and Testament is something unique, well-crafted, and impactful. With a kind of surgical joy, El Cuervo concurred in his excellent review: “The Last Will and Testament doesn’t yield any weaknesses. On their fourteenth go-round, Opeth has once more delivered something exemplary in conception, performance, and production.” And honestly, if Opeth has reached the overwrought rock opera concept album stage of their career, I am fucking here for it.

Runner(s) Up:

Fellowship // The Skies Above Eternity [November 22nd, 2024 | Scarlet Records | Bandcamp] — England’s Fellowship put all the Fromage back into Europower and then some. 2022’s The Sabrelight Chronicles was dripping with saccharine leads, uplifting choruses, and it oozed more positivity than a week-long Tony Robbins retreat.1 It scored a rare perfect rating here and fans of cheesecore rejoiced the world over. They followed that triumph up with more of the same on The Skies Above Eternity, serving up the joyous, happy times pop-infected power candy that Helloweenies crave and the world deserves. The Skies Above Eternity is packed with songs forged to stick in the brain giving the world a rosy tint. As a fanboying Eldritch gushed, “This record doesn’t just confirm that Fellowship’s initial success was anything but a fluke; it assures me that they both understand and have preserved what made them so special in the first place.” Europower is as Europower does.

Stenched // Purulence Gushing from the Coffin [November 26th, 2024 | Me Saco Un Ojo Records | Bandcamp] — As the name suggests, Stenched plays ugly, reeking death metal of the foulest order. A one-man project from Mexico, Stenched delivers all the oozing, cavernous, sub-basement gut swill anyone could want and even offers the added bonus of well-written, interesting songs. Yes, it’s pure filth and as grotesque as possible but Purulence Gushing from the Coffin has that “it” factor that keeps you coming back for another dip in the scum pond against doctor’s orders.2 As a shocked and appalled Steel gasped, “Purulence Gushing from the Coffin is Plato’s ideal form of a death metal album, and Steel is with that old toga-wearing bastard on this one. It combines everything I love dearly about Incantation, Carcass, Demilich, and Chthe’ilist into one savory mouthful, and brother, it is toothsome!” Go smell what Stenched is cooking.

#2024 #BlogPosts #Fellowship #Nov24 #Opeth #PurulenceGushingFromTheCoffin #RecordOTheMonth #RecordSOTheMonth #Stenched #TheLastWillAndTestament #TheSkiesAboveEternity #Wintersun

Septaria – Astar Review

By Steel Druhm

Written By: Nameless_N00b_87

It’s hard to believe Gojira’s From Mars to Sirius will be celebrating its twenty-year anniversary next year. The now famous metal quartet from Bayonne, France has ascended the metal hierarchy since the release of their landmark record, culminating this year in a mainstage spot in the opening ceremonies of the 2024 Summer Olympics. But as a longtime fan, I feared that their performance, no matter how awe-inspiring, would add further fuel to an ever-growing wildfire of imitation by a legion of aspiring musicians seeking to emulate their captivating sound. Enter Septaria, one such young aspiring band from Southern France who are ready to unleash their debut album Astar.1 The foursome has garnered somewhat of a buzz with their existential blend of Gojira’s modern metal and Slowdive’s dreamy post- rock, resulting in the group becoming the latest signees to Guillaume Bernard’s2 Klonosphere label. Let’s find out if these young lads can escape the shadow of their Godzilla-like influences and carve out their own path.

Septaria wastes little time channeling Gojira’s signature sound. From the rhythmic staccatos and pummeling double-kicks of From Mars to Sirius, to the double octave pitch shifts highlighted on Magma‘s “Centaure,” to the harmonic tremolos and melodic tapping of L’Enfant Sauvage, the Gojira tropes dominate Astar’s drawn-out runtime with lackluster results. And to cover the vocal inconsistencies that shredders Hugo Thevenot and Maxime Ayasse produce, the duo run their ethereal cleans, guttural roars, and reverberating screams under thick layers of reverb and delay while toying about with periodic bouts of throat singing and ethnic chants. Drummer Hugo Leydet, who offers his best impersonation of Mario Duplantier’s heavy grooves in both performance and tone, teams up with the low rumble of Baptise Trébuchon’s bass to round out the quartet’s familiar backbone. Though clearly talented, Septaria fail to show much originality outside of a few strong swelling and groove-laden moments peppered throughout Astar that provide a glimpse of the ensemble’s artistic vision.

Septaria’s overindulgence and lack of originality make Astar’s excessive length unjustifiable, bloated, and monotonous. Clocking in at 68 minutes, Septaria’s twelve lengthy, Gojira-inspired tracks rely on post-rock’s epic builds stretched out beyond necessity, resulting in a listless and tedious listening experience. “Being,” for example, is an immense ten-minute track that takes forever to arrive at its apex before the energy dies against four minutes of atmospheric feedback and ominous bass tones. Elsewhere, the lifeforce of Ledet’s hypnotic drumming in “Skys Words” deflates in the song’s bloated second half, offering an uninspired, spacey, and drawn-out construction that clashes with its grandiose form. And the cacophony of whammy bar manipulations and screams of “Saggitarius” shatter all momentum after its midpoint. Meant to offer respite, Septaria attempts to combat Astar’s bloat through strategically positioned intermezzos (“Abyss,” “Persephone”) intended to break the record’s flow into more palatable portions. Instead, these diversions quickly devolve into filler, serving as stagnant pools of rogue riffs.

Astar’s stronger moments appear when Septaria rely on their post-rock and groove-laden core to drive creativity. The dreamlike and celestial bridge that triggers the ending in opener “Moment Présent” signals that these Frenchmen have the capacity to write catchy, somber, and atmospheric grooves with emotional impact. Astar’s best moment arrives with the closing of “Embers” where Ledet’s back-beat shuffle coalesces with Thevenot’s and Ayasse’s harmonic tapping and ominous low tremolos to create a head-bobbing groove. Despite these highlights, however, Septaria’s hesitancy to escape the comfort of their predecessors’ shadow stifles their creativity, leading them to eventually revert to a predictable, borrowed riff.

Septaria is a young band that possesses loads of talent and ambition. However, Astar falls victim to Septaria’s overindulgence and lack of originality. This reliance on a well-established formula, coupled with the inability to craft compelling and concise compositions, results in tedious and underwhelming listen. Astar is a testament to Septaria‘s potential, but it is potential that remains largely untapped. I’m left disappointed with what could have been with Astar, and hope Septaria strives to step outside of the confines of imitation with their next steps.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 192 kbps mp3
Label: Klonosphere Records
Websites: septariaofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/septaria.band
Releases Worldwide: November 15, 2024

Show 2 footnotes

1. Stylized as A*. Seriously… – Dolph ↩
2. The guitarist and founding member of art rock band Klone. ↩

#20 #2024 #Astar #FrenchMetal #Gojira #KlonosphereRecords #Nov24 #PostRock #PostMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #Septaria #Slowdive

Opeth from Worst to Best: 8-4

By Angry Metal Guy

In celebration of the existence of Opeth, El Cuervo and I continue our rankings of Opeth from worst to best. You can find the previous rankings here: 13-9. And you can find the review of The Last Will and Testament here.

Happy complaining!

Angry Metal Guy

Mediopeth cont.

#8. Orchid (1995). Oldepeth gets far too little respect around here. And even I feel guilty dropping Orchid in at number 8. But for me, Orchid has long been the ‘forgotten’ album. My first exposure to Opeth was Morningrise, which I still consider the start of the band’s truly dominant, scene-defying (and scene-defining) run of perfect albums. But while it was the first one I purchased, their most recent record was My Arms, Your Hearse, which then was quickly followed by Still Life and Blackwater Park. While I was cutting my teeth on the ’90s Scandy scene, I didn’t have time to look backward. There was so much exciting music coming out and I was reveling in what I had in my hands. Yet, over time I have come to appreciate Orchid’s charm. The record is chock full of ideas and you can see the ways that Opeth becomes Opeth through moments: the use of volume swells in “In Mist She Was Standing,” which would eventually transform into Peter Lindgren’s eBow by Still Life and Blackwater Park. The moody, harmonized acoustic passages sounded a lot more like Metallica than the fingerstyle that Åkerfeldt would come to be known for by My Arms, Your Hearse. Even the use of nylon string acoustic guitars throughout is a charming feature of Opeth’s sound in 1995. The result is a kind of Protopeth that stands as a testament to sticking to your guns and just making the music you want to hear. And every song on here is a banger. Opeth is one of those bands where the debut stands up well, even if it isn’t entirely representative of the juggernaut they would become.

#7. Damnation (2003). Damnation is a brilliant album; a tour de force of sadprog. The songs boiled down the essence of the Opethian acoustic prog into a rich depression-flavored paste (with umami overtones). It’s almost impossible to pick the most iconic moment from Damnation, is it the introduction of the keys for the first time? Is it López’s deft, groovy performance? Is it “Closure”?1 Or maybe it’s Åkerfeldt dropping the best acoustic material he’d written to date? Working with Steven Wilson on this record was the right choice as he was able to get the best out of the band, while offering vocal harmonies and even lyrics. And as a defining Opeth album, Damnation trafficked in exquisite morosity from the opening guitar on “Windowpane” to the “Ending Credits” and beyond. That said, Damnation lacked the thing that made Opeth unique; its upper range. Deliverance, which was the weakest heavy record to date, was always marred by having the least interesting clean parts. And it’s hard not to blame the strong twin that got all the good genes, or in this case, Damnation. A track like “Closure” is just begging for another 8 minutes of Åkerriffs and growls. Damnation also exposed Opeth lyrically,2 I’m struck every time I listen to Damnation just how diaphanous and hollow these lyrics are.3 But that doesn’t stop me from belting them out while I’m writing this blurb. In its totality, Damnation is an excellent record from a band that wasn’t even firing on all cylinders at the time. Every song gives me the feelz, and it showed the world what Opeth could be without its death metal side—purveyors of excellent sadprog.

#6. Pale Communion (2014). Pale Communion is the album that Heritage should have been. While Heritage may have been the album Åkerfeldt wanted to write after years of playing music he didn’t really want to be playing anymore—an album constructed “of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal” to quote El Cuervo‘s excellent summation—Pale Communion felt like Opeth. Sure, it was an undeniable homage to the brilliant ’70s prog that Åkerfeldt loves (“River,” or “Goblin”). But Pale Communion is different from the other records in the Newpeth era in that it feels very much like an extension of Ghost Reveries. With classic Opeth riffing and eBow (“Cusp of Eternity,” “Moon Above, Moon Below”), the album felt like the perfect blend of classic Opeth and the more ’70s rock and prog vibe they were going for. There are two other reasons why Pale Communion is a triumph. First, the composition—the voice of Opeth—is on par with anything Åkefeldt had written to date. The re-emergence of beautiful, thoughtful transitions was notable, of course, and it made Pale Communion feel like an album that had real love and care taken with the writing process. Second, Pale Communion is the best-sounding Opeth album ever produced. Clocking in at a DR11 and with a pristine mix by Steven Wilson, Pale Communion is the kind of album that is just a pleasure to listen to. My one niggling complaint is that sometimes when the band crescendos into Åkerfeldt belting monotone melodies over heavy riffs, I think: “Why not just growl there?”

Perfectopeth

#5. My Arms, Your Hearse (1998). My Arms, Your Hearse marks the start of Opeth’s iconic lineup and sound. With the introduction of López on drums—fresh off his stint in Amon Amarth—this record was recorded with Fredrik Nordström with Åkerfeldt playing bass because Méndez didn’t have time to learn the songs. Unique in the band’s discography, My Arms, Your Hearse was the first proper concept album they recorded. Åkerfeldt started this record by writing lyrics and he composed the songs around them, with the last line of each song being the title of the next song. The result was a tight and cohesive album that felt revolutionary for their sound at the time. While Morningrise and Orchid had a meandering and acoustic feel—a naturalness if you will—My Arms, Your Hearse leaned more into a slicker production. It’s notable how much atmosphere reverb on Åkerfeldt’s more compressed vocals gave My Arms, Your Hearse its most polished sound to date, and Nordström’s production choices define the album in ways that people underestimate. But the shorter songs, the tighter lyrics, and the overall vibe made for an album that properly consumed is heard with headphones and listening to it from start to finish.

Going back and revisiting these records in order, My Arms, Your Hearse also shows real evolution in terms of Mikael’s fingerpicking work (“The Amen Corner”), and his compositional habit of falling into a pleasant 6/8 swing (like the outro to “Demon of the Fall,” and “Credence” which follows). That 6/8 swing is Opeth’s gallop, and it is the key to Still Life and Blackwater Park’s iconic sound. And though it should be consumed as a whole, I vociferously contest the idea that My Arms, Your Hearse is somehow a letdown or packed with filler. Tracks like “When,” “Demon of the Fall,” “Credence,” “The Amen Corner,” and honestly I could just list the entire album here, are classics that I would love to hear live. This record is one of the best records I own and it is somehow my fifth favorite album in Opeth’s discography.

#4. Still Life (1999). Loads of ink have been spilled over the reason that we should all like Still Life better than other Opeth albums—particularly Blackwater Park. Those who know me might think that it’s one of the reasons that I—a rugged individual and the figurehead of my eponymous blog—buck the revisionist historians by placing it at #4. But, those who know me would be wrong. I first learned of Still Life’s existence because I was one of the lucky people who got to see Opeth play their first show in the USA.4 The boyish Swedes played Milwaukee Metalfest in August of 2000—making those who saw it less lucky because we paid to be at Milwaukee Metalfest—and despite the logistical nightmare due to the infamous cheapness of the skeezy arranger, Opeth played an unforgettable set. Mikael started that set by saying “We’re going to start by playing a song from our new record which many of you don’t have,” before kicking off with “Moonlapse Vertigo.” In 1999 and 2000—for the babies whose first record was Watershed and are very upset that I didn’t make it #1 even though it has two good songs and they really really really like it!1!—one did not just get albums that weren’t released in the USA without luck and huge fees. I even asked at my local record store after Metalfest—who really were good at getting me obscure stuff—and they couldn’t find a copy of it. It would take another six months for Still Life to be released in the USA. This means that Blackwater Park, which was released on March 12th, 2001, was released exactly two weeks after Still Life and to much more fanfare. So, as an 18-year-old who kept up with metal releases via the Unholy Metal Usenet group, I purchased Blackwater Park and never realized that Still Life had been released.

It would be a couple of years before I made it back to Still Life. And my journey back started with hearing “Godhead’s Lament” live. That sent me on to a six-month binge where I listened to nothing but Still Life. The album had everything that I loved about Blackwater Park but was slightly rawer in its sound. It contained some of the best riffs that I had ever heard and I found myself learning and aping those unique Åkerriffs in my composition. But despite its excellence—its perfection, really—Blackwater Park had been the kind of revelation for me (and I’d wager many other American fans) that Still Life could never end up being. It’s hard to argue, however, that Still Life is anything other than enormous and that it probably should have been the album that broke them in the US. The band continued to develop its acoustic chops, Åkerfeldt’s writing continued to tighten, and the mournful melodies that were so key to their sound at the time were perfectly united with the slick Nordström production and those undeniable riffs. In retrospect, this is also where someone finally cracked the nut of how to produce Åkerfeldt’s growls, which I think are still some of the best in death metal. This album is a triumph and there are still three to go.

El Cuervo

#8. Watershed (2008). Watershed divides the ‘excellent’ and the ‘slightly-less-excellent-but-still-very-good’ on this ranking. While Watershed enjoys incredible high moments, it also demonstrates the first point at which I noticed unwieldy songwriting in the Opeth discography. The songs are varied but the transitions are stark,5 resulting in a release that noticeably and bluntly chops and changes. Despite its accomplished compositions and exemplary instrumental performance, the flow of the album is more jagged than anything. Yet the unexpected, off-kilter interludes paired with some brutally heavy passages super-charge these songs into some of the most head-turning, arresting music in the band’s career. And though he may have been best known for a brief stint in Arch Enemy, the deft hand of Fredrik Åkesson proved an excellent addition to the band’s roster; he sounds bold and technical in a way that wasn’t apparent previously. It may not all hang together perfectly but it’s hard to ignore Opeth on Watershed.

#7. Orchid (1995). To be a fly on the wall with a group of teenagers in a Stockholm suburb, deciding to embark on an extreme metal journey for which Scandinavia was becoming renowned. The difference for these teens was that they wanted to fuse progressive rock and acoustic guitars into that. While fusing death metal with ’70s prog may be commonplace now, it certainly wasn’t then, and Orchid is a landmark release for this reason. It’s just as raw and unrefined as you would expect. Åkerfeldt’s growls have a jagged edge, the guitars saw in the Swedeath style, and the overall mix has the bass-light, lo-fi buzz of the then-recent Norwegian wave of black metal. Despite the nascent nature of Opeth, Orchid was far better than it had any right to be. While unrefined by their own standards, some bands never achieve the sophistication of what’s achieved across this unexpectedly beautiful death metal, packaged in remarkably robust production.

#6. Pale Communion (2014). If Heritage marks the last major fold in the Opeth discography—The Last Will & Testament pending—then Pale Communion is easily the best output of their modern era. In no small part, this flows from my bottomless well of love for ’70s prog rock. Pale Communion is, in some ways, the least inventive Opeth album given how strongly it draws from a specific scene at a specific point in history. You can hear a clear admiration of classic bands like Camel, Jethro Tull, and Goblin across the warm production, mellotrons, and bluesy guitars. Nonetheless, the clearest influence remains Opeth themselves. If this album was the natural culmination of Åkerfeldt’s desire to convey how much he liked a specific sub-genre then I’m happy that he was able to do so in a way that sounds completely himself too. While it may not be the most daring of Opeth’s releases, Pale Communion succeeds because it orients around one key quality: lush, exciting songs.

#5. Damnation (2003). Faced with the impossible task of a label that wanted them to reproduce Blackwater Park but a muse leading them down a lighter path, Opeth made the bold decision to record and release Damnation as an album twinned with Deliverance. While Deliverance is ultimately my favorite of the two, Damnation has a raw potency that indicates a deep emotional investment on the part of the band. Stripping back the heavily distorted guitars and growled vocals exposes an exquisitely despondent album of lilting rhythms and gentle acoustic melodies. Its emotion is palpable, expressing pure isolation and sorrow. While the astute listener might have predicted a soft Opeth album, it was the first (and the better) of two sudden stylistic shifts in their career and demonstrated that they were not satisfied to rest on their laurels following a couple of progressive metal’s most treasured releases. It was high risk but high reward.

#4. Blackwater Park (2001). A victim of its own success, I find myself pushing Blackwater Park down despite its wide acclaim as the pinnacle of Opeth’s career. While it would be easy to attribute this to my insatiable contrarianism, it’s not this. This album is everything from the Opeth sound until 2001 boiled down to a delicious, smooth compote. It finds the optimal blend of dark and light in its sound, fusing delicate acoustic prettiness with brutal, riffing heaviness. Its longest songs are real stand-outs, with excellent leads, flawless compositions, and jaw-dropping transitions. And yet I find it wanting. Everything before Blackwater Park still had the raw edge of ’90s death metal, conferring on them a savage bite, while everything after saw the band beginning to experiment more widely; from Damnation’s dramatic shift away from metal to Ghost Reveries’ jazzier keyboards. Blackwater Park is the natural climax to that point but I find it too predictable as a result. And yet the power of Opeth means it’s still an El Cuervo 4.5 and one of the jewels in metal’s crown.

#1998 #1999 #2001 #2003 #2008 #2014 #BlackwaterPark #Camel #Damnation #MAYH #Metallica #MyArmsYourHearse #Nov24 #Opeth #Orchid #PaleCommunion #StillLife #TheLastWillAndTestament #Watershed

Opeth from Worst to Best: 8-4

By Angry Metal Guy

In celebration of the existence of Opeth, El Cuervo and I continue our rankings of Opeth from worst to best. You can find the previous rankings here: 13-9. And you can find the review of The Last Will and Testament here.

Happy complaining!

Angry Metal Guy

Mediopeth cont.

#8. Orchid (1995). Oldepeth gets far too little respect around here. And even I feel guilty dropping Orchid in at number 8. But for me, Orchid has long been the ‘forgotten’ album. My first exposure to Opeth was Morningrise, which I still consider the start of the band’s truly dominant, scene-defying (and scene-defining) run of perfect albums. But while it was the first one I purchased, their most recent record was My Arms, Your Hearse, which then was quickly followed by Still Life and Blackwater Park. While I was cutting my teeth on the ’90s Scandy scene, I didn’t have time to look backward. There was so much exciting music coming out and I was reveling in what I had in my hands. Yet, over time I have come to appreciate Orchid’s charm. The record is chock full of ideas and you can see the ways that Opeth becomes Opeth through moments: the use of volume swells in “In Mist She Was Standing,” which would eventually transform into Peter Lindgren’s eBow by Still Life and Blackwater Park. The moody, harmonized acoustic passages sounded a lot more like Metallica than the fingerstyle that Åkerfeldt would come to be known for by My Arms, Your Hearse. Even the use of nylon string acoustic guitars throughout is a charming feature of Opeth’s sound in 1995. The result is a kind of Protopeth that stands as a testament to sticking to your guns and just making the music you want to hear. And every song on here is a banger. Opeth is one of those bands where the debut stands up well, even if it isn’t entirely representative of the juggernaut they would become.

#7. Damnation (2003). Damnation is a brilliant album; a tour de force of sadprog. The songs boiled down the essence of the Opethian acoustic prog into a rich depression-flavored paste (with umami overtones). It’s almost impossible to pick the most iconic moment from Damnation, is it the introduction of the keys for the first time? Is it López’s deft, groovy performance? Is it “Closure”?1 Or maybe it’s Åkerfeldt dropping the best acoustic material he’d written to date? Working with Steven Wilson on this record was the right choice as he was able to get the best out of the band, while offering vocal harmonies and even lyrics. And as a defining Opeth album, Damnation trafficked in exquisite morosity from the opening guitar on “Windowpane” to the “Ending Credits” and beyond. That said, Damnation lacked the thing that made Opeth unique; its upper range. Deliverance, which was the weakest heavy record to date, was always marred by having the least interesting clean parts. And it’s hard not to blame the strong twin that got all the good genes, or in this case, Damnation. A track like “Closure” is just begging for another 8 minutes of Åkerriffs and growls. Damnation also exposed Opeth lyrically,2 I’m struck every time I listen to Damnation just how diaphanous and hollow these lyrics are.3 But that doesn’t stop me from belting them out while I’m writing this blurb. In its totality, Damnation is an excellent record from a band that wasn’t even firing on all cylinders at the time. Every song gives me the feelz, and it showed the world what Opeth could be without its death metal side—purveyors of excellent sadprog.

#6. Pale Communion (2014). Pale Communion is the album that Heritage should have been. While Heritage may have been the album Åkerfeldt wanted to write after years of playing music he didn’t really want to be playing anymore—an album constructed “of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal” to quote El Cuervo‘s excellent summation—Pale Communion felt like Opeth. Sure, it was an undeniable homage to the brilliant ’70s prog that Åkerfeldt loves (“River,” or “Goblin”). But Pale Communion is different from the other records in the Newpeth era in that it feels very much like an extension of Ghost Reveries. With classic Opeth riffing and eBow (“Cusp of Eternity,” “Moon Above, Moon Below”), the album felt like the perfect blend of classic Opeth and the more ’70s rock and prog vibe they were going for. There are two other reasons why Pale Communion is a triumph. First, the composition—the voice of Opeth—is on par with anything Åkefeldt had written to date. The re-emergence of beautiful, thoughtful transitions was notable, of course, and it made Pale Communion feel like an album that had real love and care taken with the writing process. Second, Pale Communion is the best-sounding Opeth album ever produced. Clocking in at a DR11 and with a pristine mix by Steven Wilson, Pale Communion is the kind of album that is just a pleasure to listen to. My one niggling complaint is that sometimes when the band crescendos into Åkerfeldt belting monotone melodies over heavy riffs, I think: “Why not just growl there?”

Perfectopeth

#5. My Arms, Your Hearse (1998). My Arms, Your Hearse marks the start of Opeth’s iconic lineup and sound. With the introduction of López on drums—fresh off his stint in Amon Amarth—this record was recorded with Fredrik Nordström with Åkerfeldt playing bass because Méndez didn’t have time to learn the songs. Unique in the band’s discography, My Arms, Your Hearse was the first proper concept album they recorded. Åkerfeldt started this record by writing lyrics and he composed the songs around them, with the last line of each song being the title of the next song. The result was a tight and cohesive album that felt revolutionary for their sound at the time. While Morningrise and Orchid had a meandering and acoustic feel—a naturalness if you will—My Arms, Your Hearse leaned more into a slicker production. It’s notable how much atmosphere reverb on Åkerfeldt’s more compressed vocals gave My Arms, Your Hearse its most polished sound to date, and Nordström’s production choices define the album in ways that people underestimate. But the shorter songs, the tighter lyrics, and the overall vibe made for an album that properly consumed is heard with headphones and listening to it from start to finish.

Going back and revisiting these records in order, My Arms, Your Hearse also shows real evolution in terms of Mikael’s fingerpicking work (“The Amen Corner”), and his compositional habit of falling into a pleasant 6/8 swing (like the outro to “Demon of the Fall,” and “Credence” which follows). That 6/8 swing is Opeth’s gallop, and it is the key to Still Life and Blackwater Park’s iconic sound. And though it should be consumed as a whole, I vociferously contest the idea that My Arms, Your Hearse is somehow a letdown or packed with filler. Tracks like “When,” “Demon of the Fall,” “Credence,” “The Amen Corner,” and honestly I could just list the entire album here, are classics that I would love to hear live. This record is one of the best records I own and it is somehow my fifth favorite album in Opeth’s discography.

#4. Still Life (1999). Loads of ink have been spilled over the reason that we should all like Still Life better than other Opeth albums—particularly Blackwater Park. Those who know me might think that it’s one of the reasons that I—a rugged individual and the figurehead of my eponymous blog—buck the revisionist historians by placing it at #4. But, those who know me would be wrong. I first learned of Still Life’s existence because I was one of the lucky people who got to see Opeth play their first show in the USA.4 The boyish Swedes played Milwaukee Metalfest in August of 2000—making those who saw it less lucky because we paid to be at Milwaukee Metalfest—and despite the logistical nightmare due to the infamous cheapness of the skeezy arranger, Opeth played an unforgettable set. Mikael started that set by saying “We’re going to start by playing a song from our new record which many of you don’t have,” before kicking off with “Moonlapse Vertigo.” In 1999 and 2000—for the babies whose first record was Watershed and are very upset that I didn’t make it #1 even though it has two good songs and they really really really like it!1!—one did not just get albums that weren’t released in the USA without luck and huge fees. I even asked at my local record store after Metalfest—who really were good at getting me obscure stuff—and they couldn’t find a copy of it. It would take another six months for Still Life to be released in the USA. This means that Blackwater Park, which was released on March 12th, 2001, was released exactly two weeks after Still Life and to much more fanfare. So, as an 18-year-old who kept up with metal releases via the Unholy Metal Usenet group, I purchased Blackwater Park and never realized that Still Life had been released.

It would be a couple of years before I made it back to Still Life. And my journey back started with hearing “Godhead’s Lament” live. That sent me on to a six-month binge where I listened to nothing but Still Life. The album had everything that I loved about Blackwater Park but was slightly rawer in its sound. It contained some of the best riffs that I had ever heard and I found myself learning and aping those unique Åkerriffs in my composition. But despite its excellence—its perfection, really—Blackwater Park had been the kind of revelation for me (and I’d wager many other American fans) that Still Life could never end up being. It’s hard to argue, however, that Still Life is anything other than enormous and that it probably should have been the album that broke them in the US. The band continued to develop its acoustic chops, Åkerfeldt’s writing continued to tighten, and the mournful melodies that were so key to their sound at the time were perfectly united with the slick Nordström production and those undeniable riffs. In retrospect, this is also where someone finally cracked the nut of how to produce Åkerfeldt’s growls, which I think are still some of the best in death metal. This album is a triumph and there are still three to go.

El Cuervo

#8. Watershed (2008). Watershed divides the ‘excellent’ and the ‘slightly-less-excellent-but-still-very-good’ on this ranking. While Watershed enjoys incredible high moments, it also demonstrates the first point at which I noticed unwieldy songwriting in the Opeth discography. The songs are varied but the transitions are stark,5 resulting in a release that noticeably and bluntly chops and changes. Despite its accomplished compositions and exemplary instrumental performance, the flow of the album is more jagged than anything. Yet the unexpected, off-kilter interludes paired with some brutally heavy passages super-charge these songs into some of the most head-turning, arresting music in the band’s career. And though he may have been best known for a brief stint in Arch Enemy, the deft hand of Fredrik Åkesson proved an excellent addition to the band’s roster; he sounds bold and technical in a way that wasn’t apparent previously. It may not all hang together perfectly but it’s hard to ignore Opeth on Watershed.

#7. Orchid (1995). To be a fly on the wall with a group of teenagers in a Stockholm suburb, deciding to embark on an extreme metal journey for which Scandinavia was becoming renowned. The difference for these teens was that they wanted to fuse progressive rock and acoustic guitars into that. While fusing death metal with ’70s prog may be commonplace now, it certainly wasn’t then, and Orchid is a landmark release for this reason. It’s just as raw and unrefined as you would expect. Åkerfeldt’s growls have a jagged edge, the guitars saw in the Swedeath style, and the overall mix has the bass-light, lo-fi buzz of the then-recent Norwegian wave of black metal. Despite the nascent nature of Opeth, Orchid was far better than it had any right to be. While unrefined by their own standards, some bands never achieve the sophistication of what’s achieved across this unexpectedly beautiful death metal, packaged in remarkably robust production.

#6. Pale Communion (2014). If Heritage marks the last major fold in the Opeth discography—The Last Will & Testament pending—then Pale Communion is easily the best output of their modern era. In no small part, this flows from my bottomless well of love for ’70s prog rock. Pale Communion is, in some ways, the least inventive Opeth album given how strongly it draws from a specific scene at a specific point in history. You can hear a clear admiration of classic bands like Camel, Jethro Tull, and Goblin across the warm production, mellotrons, and bluesy guitars. Nonetheless, the clearest influence remains Opeth themselves. If this album was the natural culmination of Åkerfeldt’s desire to convey how much he liked a specific sub-genre then I’m happy that he was able to do so in a way that sounds completely himself too. While it may not be the most daring of Opeth’s releases, Pale Communion succeeds because it orients around one key quality: lush, exciting songs.

#5. Damnation (2003). Faced with the impossible task of a label that wanted them to reproduce Blackwater Park but a muse leading them down a lighter path, Opeth made the bold decision to record and release Damnation as an album twinned with Deliverance. While Deliverance is ultimately my favorite of the two, Damnation has a raw potency that indicates a deep emotional investment on the part of the band. Stripping back the heavily distorted guitars and growled vocals exposes an exquisitely despondent album of lilting rhythms and gentle acoustic melodies. Its emotion is palpable, expressing pure isolation and sorrow. While the astute listener might have predicted a soft Opeth album, it was the first (and the better) of two sudden stylistic shifts in their career and demonstrated that they were not satisfied to rest on their laurels following a couple of progressive metal’s most treasured releases. It was high risk but high reward.

#4. Blackwater Park (2001). A victim of its own success, I find myself pushing Blackwater Park down despite its wide acclaim as the pinnacle of Opeth’s career. While it would be easy to attribute this to my insatiable contrarianism, it’s not this. This album is everything from the Opeth sound until 2001 boiled down to a delicious, smooth compote. It finds the optimal blend of dark and light in its sound, fusing delicate acoustic prettiness with brutal, riffing heaviness. Its longest songs are real stand-outs, with excellent leads, flawless compositions, and jaw-dropping transitions. And yet I find it wanting. Everything before Blackwater Park still had the raw edge of ’90s death metal, conferring on them a savage bite, while everything after saw the band beginning to experiment more widely; from Damnation’s dramatic shift away from metal to Ghost Reveries’ jazzier keyboards. Blackwater Park is the natural climax to that point but I find it too predictable as a result. And yet the power of Opeth means it’s still an El Cuervo 4.5 and one of the jewels in metal’s crown.

#1998 #1999 #2001 #2003 #2008 #2014 #BlackwaterPark #Camel #Damnation #MAYH #Metallica #MyArmsYourHearse #Nov24 #Opeth #Orchid #PaleCommunion #StillLife #TheLastWillAndTestament #Watershed

Opeth from Worst to Best: 8-4

By Angry Metal Guy

In celebration of the existence of Opeth, El Cuervo and I continue our rankings of Opeth from worst to best. You can find the previous rankings here: 13-9. And you can find the review of The Last Will and Testament here.

Happy complaining!

Angry Metal Guy

Mediopeth cont.

#8. Orchid (1995). Oldepeth gets far too little respect around here. And even I feel guilty dropping Orchid in at number 8. But for me, Orchid has long been the ‘forgotten’ album. My first exposure to Opeth was Morningrise, which I still consider the start of the band’s truly dominant, scene-defying (and scene-defining) run of perfect albums. But while it was the first one I purchased, their most recent record was My Arms, Your Hearse, which then was quickly followed by Still Life and Blackwater Park. While I was cutting my teeth on the ’90s Scandy scene, I didn’t have time to look backward. There was so much exciting music coming out and I was reveling in what I had in my hands. Yet, over time I have come to appreciate Orchid’s charm. The record is chock full of ideas and you can see the ways that Opeth becomes Opeth through moments: the use of volume swells in “In Mist She Was Standing,” which would eventually transform into Peter Lindgren’s eBow by Still Life and Blackwater Park. The moody, harmonized acoustic passages sounded a lot more like Metallica than the fingerstyle that Åkerfeldt would come to be known for by My Arms, Your Hearse. Even the use of nylon string acoustic guitars throughout is a charming feature of Opeth’s sound in 1995. The result is a kind of Protopeth that stands as a testament to sticking to your guns and just making the music you want to hear. And every song on here is a banger. Opeth is one of those bands where the debut stands up well, even if it isn’t entirely representative of the juggernaut they would become.

#7. Damnation (2003). Damnation is a brilliant album; a tour de force of sadprog. The songs boiled down the essence of the Opethian acoustic prog into a rich depression-flavored paste (with umami overtones). It’s almost impossible to pick the most iconic moment from Damnation, is it the introduction of the keys for the first time? Is it López’s deft, groovy performance? Is it “Closure”?1 Or maybe it’s Åkerfeldt dropping the best acoustic material he’d written to date? Working with Steven Wilson on this record was the right choice as he was able to get the best out of the band, while offering vocal harmonies and even lyrics. And as a defining Opeth album, Damnation trafficked in exquisite morosity from the opening guitar on “Windowpane” to the “Ending Credits” and beyond. That said, Damnation lacked the thing that made Opeth unique; its upper range. Deliverance, which was the weakest heavy record to date, was always marred by having the least interesting clean parts. And it’s hard not to blame the strong twin that got all the good genes, or in this case, Damnation. A track like “Closure” is just begging for another 8 minutes of Åkerriffs and growls. Damnation also exposed Opeth lyrically,2 I’m struck every time I listen to Damnation just how diaphanous and hollow these lyrics are.3 But that doesn’t stop me from belting them out while I’m writing this blurb. In its totality, Damnation is an excellent record from a band that wasn’t even firing on all cylinders at the time. Every song gives me the feelz, and it showed the world what Opeth could be without its death metal side—purveyors of excellent sadprog.

#6. Pale Communion (2014). Pale Communion is the album that Heritage should have been. While Heritage may have been the album Åkerfeldt wanted to write after years of playing music he didn’t really want to be playing anymore—an album constructed “of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal” to quote El Cuervo‘s excellent summation—Pale Communion felt like Opeth. Sure, it was an undeniable homage to the brilliant ’70s prog that Åkerfeldt loves (“River,” or “Goblin”). But Pale Communion is different from the other records in the Newpeth era in that it feels very much like an extension of Ghost Reveries. With classic Opeth riffing and eBow (“Cusp of Eternity,” “Moon Above, Moon Below”), the album felt like the perfect blend of classic Opeth and the more ’70s rock and prog vibe they were going for. There are two other reasons why Pale Communion is a triumph. First, the composition—the voice of Opeth—is on par with anything Åkefeldt had written to date. The re-emergence of beautiful, thoughtful transitions was notable, of course, and it made Pale Communion feel like an album that had real love and care taken with the writing process. Second, Pale Communion is the best-sounding Opeth album ever produced. Clocking in at a DR11 and with a pristine mix by Steven Wilson, Pale Communion is the kind of album that is just a pleasure to listen to. My one niggling complaint is that sometimes when the band crescendos into Åkerfeldt belting monotone melodies over heavy riffs, I think: “Why not just growl there?”

Perfectopeth

#5. My Arms, Your Hearse (1998). My Arms, Your Hearse marks the start of Opeth’s iconic lineup and sound. With the introduction of López on drums—fresh off his stint in Amon Amarth—this record was recorded with Fredrik Nordström with Åkerfeldt playing bass because Méndez didn’t have time to learn the songs. Unique in the band’s discography, My Arms, Your Hearse was the first proper concept album they recorded. Åkerfeldt started this record by writing lyrics and he composed the songs around them, with the last line of each song being the title of the next song. The result was a tight and cohesive album that felt revolutionary for their sound at the time. While Morningrise and Orchid had a meandering and acoustic feel—a naturalness if you will—My Arms, Your Hearse leaned more into a slicker production. It’s notable how much atmosphere reverb on Åkerfeldt’s more compressed vocals gave My Arms, Your Hearse its most polished sound to date, and Nordström’s production choices define the album in ways that people underestimate. But the shorter songs, the tighter lyrics, and the overall vibe made for an album that properly consumed is heard with headphones and listening to it from start to finish.

Going back and revisiting these records in order, My Arms, Your Hearse also shows real evolution in terms of Mikael’s fingerpicking work (“The Amen Corner”), and his compositional habit of falling into a pleasant 6/8 swing (like the outro to “Demon of the Fall,” and “Credence” which follows). That 6/8 swing is Opeth’s gallop, and it is the key to Still Life and Blackwater Park’s iconic sound. And though it should be consumed as a whole, I vociferously contest the idea that My Arms, Your Hearse is somehow a letdown or packed with filler. Tracks like “When,” “Demon of the Fall,” “Credence,” “The Amen Corner,” and honestly I could just list the entire album here, are classics that I would love to hear live. This record is one of the best records I own and it is somehow my fifth favorite album in Opeth’s discography.

#4. Still Life (1999). Loads of ink have been spilled over the reason that we should all like Still Life better than other Opeth albums—particularly Blackwater Park. Those who know me might think that it’s one of the reasons that I—a rugged individual and the figurehead of my eponymous blog—buck the revisionist historians by placing it at #4. But, those who know me would be wrong. I first learned of Still Life’s existence because I was one of the lucky people who got to see Opeth play their first show in the USA.4 The boyish Swedes played Milwaukee Metalfest in August of 2000—making those who saw it less lucky because we paid to be at Milwaukee Metalfest—and despite the logistical nightmare due to the infamous cheapness of the skeezy arranger, Opeth played an unforgettable set. Mikael started that set by saying “We’re going to start by playing a song from our new record which many of you don’t have,” before kicking off with “Moonlapse Vertigo.” In 1999 and 2000—for the babies whose first record was Watershed and are very upset that I didn’t make it #1 even though it has two good songs and they really really really like it!1!—one did not just get albums that weren’t released in the USA without luck and huge fees. I even asked at my local record store after Metalfest—who really were good at getting me obscure stuff—and they couldn’t find a copy of it. It would take another six months for Still Life to be released in the USA. This means that Blackwater Park, which was released on March 12th, 2001, was released exactly two weeks after Still Life and to much more fanfare. So, as an 18-year-old who kept up with metal releases via the Unholy Metal Usenet group, I purchased Blackwater Park and never realized that Still Life had been released.

It would be a couple of years before I made it back to Still Life. And my journey back started with hearing “Godhead’s Lament” live. That sent me on to a six-month binge where I listened to nothing but Still Life. The album had everything that I loved about Blackwater Park but was slightly rawer in its sound. It contained some of the best riffs that I had ever heard and I found myself learning and aping those unique Åkerriffs in my composition. But despite its excellence—its perfection, really—Blackwater Park had been the kind of revelation for me (and I’d wager many other American fans) that Still Life could never end up being. It’s hard to argue, however, that Still Life is anything other than enormous and that it probably should have been the album that broke them in the US. The band continued to develop its acoustic chops, Åkerfeldt’s writing continued to tighten, and the mournful melodies that were so key to their sound at the time were perfectly united with the slick Nordström production and those undeniable riffs. In retrospect, this is also where someone finally cracked the nut of how to produce Åkerfeldt’s growls, which I think are still some of the best in death metal. This album is a triumph and there are still three to go.

El Cuervo

#8. Watershed (2008). Watershed divides the ‘excellent’ and the ‘slightly-less-excellent-but-still-very-good’ on this ranking. While Watershed enjoys incredible high moments, it also demonstrates the first point at which I noticed unwieldy songwriting in the Opeth discography. The songs are varied but the transitions are stark,5 resulting in a release that noticeably and bluntly chops and changes. Despite its accomplished compositions and exemplary instrumental performance, the flow of the album is more jagged than anything. Yet the unexpected, off-kilter interludes paired with some brutally heavy passages super-charge these songs into some of the most head-turning, arresting music in the band’s career. And though he may have been best known for a brief stint in Arch Enemy, the deft hand of Fredrik Åkesson proved an excellent addition to the band’s roster; he sounds bold and technical in a way that wasn’t apparent previously. It may not all hang together perfectly but it’s hard to ignore Opeth on Watershed.

#7. Orchid (1995). To be a fly on the wall with a group of teenagers in a Stockholm suburb, deciding to embark on an extreme metal journey for which Scandinavia was becoming renowned. The difference for these teens was that they wanted to fuse progressive rock and acoustic guitars into that. While fusing death metal with ’70s prog may be commonplace now, it certainly wasn’t then, and Orchid is a landmark release for this reason. It’s just as raw and unrefined as you would expect. Åkerfeldt’s growls have a jagged edge, the guitars saw in the Swedeath style, and the overall mix has the bass-light, lo-fi buzz of the then-recent Norwegian wave of black metal. Despite the nascent nature of Opeth, Orchid was far better than it had any right to be. While unrefined by their own standards, some bands never achieve the sophistication of what’s achieved across this unexpectedly beautiful death metal, packaged in remarkably robust production.

#6. Pale Communion (2014). If Heritage marks the last major fold in the Opeth discography—The Last Will & Testament pending—then Pale Communion is easily the best output of their modern era. In no small part, this flows from my bottomless well of love for ’70s prog rock. Pale Communion is, in some ways, the least inventive Opeth album given how strongly it draws from a specific scene at a specific point in history. You can hear a clear admiration of classic bands like Camel, Jethro Tull, and Goblin across the warm production, mellotrons, and bluesy guitars. Nonetheless, the clearest influence remains Opeth themselves. If this album was the natural culmination of Åkerfeldt’s desire to convey how much he liked a specific sub-genre then I’m happy that he was able to do so in a way that sounds completely himself too. While it may not be the most daring of Opeth’s releases, Pale Communion succeeds because it orients around one key quality: lush, exciting songs.

#5. Damnation (2003). Faced with the impossible task of a label that wanted them to reproduce Blackwater Park but a muse leading them down a lighter path, Opeth made the bold decision to record and release Damnation as an album twinned with Deliverance. While Deliverance is ultimately my favorite of the two, Damnation has a raw potency that indicates a deep emotional investment on the part of the band. Stripping back the heavily distorted guitars and growled vocals exposes an exquisitely despondent album of lilting rhythms and gentle acoustic melodies. Its emotion is palpable, expressing pure isolation and sorrow. While the astute listener might have predicted a soft Opeth album, it was the first (and the better) of two sudden stylistic shifts in their career and demonstrated that they were not satisfied to rest on their laurels following a couple of progressive metal’s most treasured releases. It was high risk but high reward.

#4. Blackwater Park (2001). A victim of its own success, I find myself pushing Blackwater Park down despite its wide acclaim as the pinnacle of Opeth’s career. While it would be easy to attribute this to my insatiable contrarianism, it’s not this. This album is everything from the Opeth sound until 2001 boiled down to a delicious, smooth compote. It finds the optimal blend of dark and light in its sound, fusing delicate acoustic prettiness with brutal, riffing heaviness. Its longest songs are real stand-outs, with excellent leads, flawless compositions, and jaw-dropping transitions. And yet I find it wanting. Everything before Blackwater Park still had the raw edge of ’90s death metal, conferring on them a savage bite, while everything after saw the band beginning to experiment more widely; from Damnation’s dramatic shift away from metal to Ghost Reveries’ jazzier keyboards. Blackwater Park is the natural climax to that point but I find it too predictable as a result. And yet the power of Opeth means it’s still an El Cuervo 4.5 and one of the jewels in metal’s crown.

#1998 #1999 #2001 #2003 #2008 #2014 #BlackwaterPark #Camel #Damnation #MAYH #Metallica #MyArmsYourHearse #Nov24 #Opeth #Orchid #PaleCommunion #StillLife #TheLastWillAndTestament #Watershed

Opeth – The Last Will and Testament Review

By El Cuervo

Little introduction is required for the progressive metal institution that is Sweden’s Opeth. In a career running over 30 years in length and spanning 13 previous studio albums, they have demonstrated an unending pursuit of progression by drawing in more influences as they’ve changed. From death metal to progressive rock to European folk to whimsical jazz, they have tracked a course that has always been fascinating, even if the quality has varied a little more than that. Reaching 2024, The Last Will and Testament is a remarkable record in a career full of remarkable records. It represents all of the following: the most overdue studio album, being released five years after its predecessor; the first release with the young but experienced Waltteri Väyrynen on drums; the return of harsh vocals for the first time in 16 years; and the first concept record since 1999’s Still Life.

Despite these remarkable qualities, The Last Will and Testament offers a smooth and natural progression from 2019’s In Cauda Venenum, but with discernible nods to other records in the Opeth discography. The first and most obvious reference is the progressive melodrama levered on Ghost Reveries and Watershed. The swinging passage from 1:30 on “§2”1 is effortlessly cool, layering groovy guitars and dramatic keyboards with spoken-word narration and a wild vibrato buried in the background. It recalls that specific era of death-influenced progressive metal, dripping with keyboard-generated atmosphere. The second core component of The Last Will and Testament’s sound is the heady compositions favored on In Cauda Venenum. That record featured varied, complex compositions but they’re too disparate. Those here are simultaneously sharper but also freer. “§4” bridges a soft flute interlude with a heavy guitar passage via a subtle drum crescendo, and despite the contrasting instrumentation, it’s smooth and cohesive in a way that few other bands can match. The musical continuity builds a sense of completeness, which is no doubt aided by the final influence in The Last Will and Testament’s sound: Still Life’s rich storytelling.

The album’s concept drives both the music and structure. The Last Will and Testament spins a yarn based around the administration of the estate of a wealthy man, replete with a seedy lawyer (entertainingly performed by Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull) and an imposing patriarch (given a voice through Mikael Åkerfeldt’s wrathful roar). The twisting tale of family intrigue and deception—including soap opera grudges and illicit children—is narrated across the first six tracks, before culminating in “§7” where Anderson delivers a deliciously-evil reading of the will to the unsuspecting beneficiaries. While this feels appropriately climactic, the final track “A Story Never Told” succeeds this chicanery with jarring clarity. It’s an excellent tonal shift, with Åkerfeldt’s clean singing layered over a simple piano melody that’s as simple as it is beautiful. While The Last Will and Testament twists and turns throughout, the opening to this track lifts the listener out of the mire of family drama2 and closes affairs with peacefulness.

But The Last Will and Testament’s most important quality is its sheer mastery. There’s no one else that writes music like this, and rarely so successfully. Every element of its core fusion of death metal and progressive rock is highly accomplished, from the knotty compositions to the polished performances to the immaculate production. As referenced earlier, In Cauda Venenum has a similar scope of instrumentation and intricate compositions. But they’re elevated here; more harmonious, more sophisticated, more artful. “§5” is a prime example. There’s a high degree of intricacy as it folds crisp drums, dancing bass lines, beautiful strings, darting vocals, and bluesy guitars into something that oscillates between subtle jazz and crunchy death metal. I love the natural lilt and the unexpected transitions.3 It’s busy and dense with textures, but the bold melodies and crystalline production prevent the material from sinking into murkiness. I’ll also commend “A Story Never Told” as one of the best songs of the year. Its organic swell from delicate piano melodies to the grand guitar solo concludes the album on an endlessly moreish note.

The Last Will and Testament doesn’t yield any weaknesses. On their fourteenth go-round, Opeth has once more delivered something exemplary in conception, performance, and production. The songs are varied but focused, feeling shorter and tighter than prior work. And while its story may not be as tragic as prior Opeth concepts, I admire the willingness to have some fun with it.4 Existing fans will no doubt gain much from this experience, and anyone with their interest limited to O(ld)peth may just find something here too. 2024 sees these Swedes finding a new harmony in their sound, and connoisseurs of progressive music mustn’t miss this.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Websites: opeth.com | facebook.com/opeth
Releases Worldwide: November 22nd, 2024

#2024 #45 #DeathMetal #EnglishMetal #JethroTull #Nov24 #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TheLastWillAndTestament

Opeth – The Last Will and Testament Review

By El Cuervo

Little introduction is required for the progressive metal institution that is Sweden’s Opeth. In a career running over 30 years in length and spanning 13 previous studio albums, they have demonstrated an unending pursuit of progression by drawing in more influences as they’ve changed. From death metal to progressive rock to European folk to whimsical jazz, they have tracked a course that has always been fascinating, even if the quality has varied a little more than that. Reaching 2024, The Last Will and Testament is a remarkable record in a career full of remarkable records. It represents all of the following: the most overdue studio album, being released five years after its predecessor; the first release with the young but experienced Waltteri Väyrynen on drums; the return of harsh vocals for the first time in 16 years; and the first concept record since 1999’s Still Life.

Despite these remarkable qualities, The Last Will and Testament offers a smooth and natural progression from 2019’s In Cauda Venenum, but with discernible nods to other records in the Opeth discography. The first and most obvious reference is the progressive melodrama levered on Ghost Reveries and Watershed. The swinging passage from 1:30 on “§2”1 is effortlessly cool, layering groovy guitars and dramatic keyboards with spoken-word narration and a wild vibrato buried in the background. It recalls that specific era of death-influenced progressive metal, dripping with keyboard-generated atmosphere. The second core component of The Last Will and Testament’s sound is the heady compositions favored on In Cauda Venenum. That record featured varied, complex compositions but they’re too disparate. Those here are simultaneously sharper but also freer. “§4” bridges a soft flute interlude with a heavy guitar passage via a subtle drum crescendo, and despite the contrasting instrumentation, it’s smooth and cohesive in a way that few other bands can match. The musical continuity builds a sense of completeness, which is no doubt aided by the final influence in The Last Will and Testament’s sound: Still Life’s rich storytelling.

The album’s concept drives both the music and structure. The Last Will and Testament spins a yarn based around the administration of the estate of a wealthy man, replete with a seedy lawyer (entertainingly performed by Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull) and an imposing patriarch (given a voice through Mikael Åkerfeldt’s wrathful roar). The twisting tale of family intrigue and deception—including soap opera grudges and illicit children—is narrated across the first six tracks, before culminating in “§7” where Anderson delivers a deliciously-evil reading of the will to the unsuspecting beneficiaries. While this feels appropriately climactic, the final track “A Story Never Told” succeeds this chicanery with jarring clarity. It’s an excellent tonal shift, with Åkerfeldt’s clean singing layered over a simple piano melody that’s as simple as it is beautiful. While The Last Will and Testament twists and turns throughout, the opening to this track lifts the listener out of the mire of family drama2 and closes affairs with peacefulness.

But The Last Will and Testament’s most important quality is its sheer mastery. There’s no one else that writes music like this, and rarely so successfully. Every element of its core fusion of death metal and progressive rock is highly accomplished, from the knotty compositions to the polished performances to the immaculate production. As referenced earlier, In Cauda Venenum has a similar scope of instrumentation and intricate compositions. But they’re elevated here; more harmonious, more sophisticated, more artful. “§5” is a prime example. There’s a high degree of intricacy as it folds crisp drums, dancing bass lines, beautiful strings, darting vocals, and bluesy guitars into something that oscillates between subtle jazz and crunchy death metal. I love the natural lilt and the unexpected transitions.3 It’s busy and dense with textures, but the bold melodies and crystalline production prevent the material from sinking into murkiness. I’ll also commend “A Story Never Told” as one of the best songs of the year. Its organic swell from delicate piano melodies to the grand guitar solo concludes the album on an endlessly moreish note.

The Last Will and Testament doesn’t yield any weaknesses. On their fourteenth go-round, Opeth has once more delivered something exemplary in conception, performance, and production. The songs are varied but focused, feeling shorter and tighter than prior work. And while its story may not be as tragic as prior Opeth concepts, I admire the willingness to have some fun with it.4 Existing fans will no doubt gain much from this experience, and anyone with their interest limited to O(ld)peth may just find something here too. 2024 sees these Swedes finding a new harmony in their sound, and connoisseurs of progressive music mustn’t miss this.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Websites: opeth.com | facebook.com/opeth
Releases Worldwide: November 22nd, 2024

Show 4 footnotes

1. All tracks except the finale are titled as paragraphs within a will, hence the “§”. ↩
2. Above the mire, if you will. ↩
3. But while unexpected, the transitions are not jarring as was the case on Watershed or Heritage, where there was a sense that they were just linking things together at random in the studio and telling Per to play one note on the keyboard as an ‘excuse’ to justify a key change. Instead, The Last Will and Testament is crafted with the deliberate, artisanal expertise that Åkerfeldt demonstrated in his composition and arrangements for his entire career before 2008. – AMG ↩
4. And the growth that Åkerfeldt exemplified by accepting the lessons of In Cada Venenum; lyrics matter and they take real time and effort. The Last Will and Testament plays in genuine Concept Record territory in a way that makes it genuinely fun to listen to. It’s melodramatic and it’s sharp. – AMG ↩

#2024 #45 #DeathMetal #EnglishMetal #JethroTull #Nov24 #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TheLastWillAndTestament

Opeth – The Last Will and Testament Review

By El Cuervo

Little introduction is required for the progressive metal institution that is Sweden’s Opeth. In a career running over 30 years in length and spanning 13 previous studio albums, they have demonstrated an unending pursuit of progression by drawing in more influences as they’ve changed. From death metal to progressive rock to European folk to whimsical jazz, they have tracked a course that has always been fascinating, even if the quality has varied a little more than that. Reaching 2024, The Last Will and Testament is a remarkable record in a career full of remarkable records. It represents all of the following: the most overdue studio album, being released five years after its predecessor; the first release with the young but experienced Waltteri Väyrynen on drums; the return of harsh vocals for the first time in 16 years; and the first concept record since 1999’s Still Life.

Despite these remarkable qualities, The Last Will and Testament offers a smooth and natural progression from 2019’s In Cauda Venenum, but with discernible nods to other records in the Opeth discography. The first and most obvious reference is the progressive melodrama levered on Ghost Reveries and Watershed. The swinging passage from 1:30 on “§2”1 is effortlessly cool, layering groovy guitars and dramatic keyboards with spoken-word narration and a wild vibrato buried in the background. It recalls that specific era of death-influenced progressive metal, dripping with keyboard-generated atmosphere. The second core component of The Last Will and Testament’s sound is the heady compositions favored on In Cauda Venenum. That record featured varied, complex compositions but they’re too disparate. Those here are simultaneously sharper but also freer. “§4” bridges a soft flute interlude with a heavy guitar passage via a subtle drum crescendo, and despite the contrasting instrumentation, it’s smooth and cohesive in a way that few other bands can match. The musical continuity builds a sense of completeness, which is no doubt aided by the final influence in The Last Will and Testament’s sound: Still Life’s rich storytelling.

The album’s concept drives both the music and structure. The Last Will and Testament spins a yarn based around the administration of the estate of a wealthy man, replete with a seedy lawyer (entertainingly performed by Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull) and an imposing patriarch (given a voice through Mikael Åkerfeldt’s wrathful roar). The twisting tale of family intrigue and deception—including soap opera grudges and illicit children—is narrated across the first six tracks, before culminating in “§7” where Anderson delivers a deliciously-evil reading of the will to the unsuspecting beneficiaries. While this feels appropriately climactic, the final track “A Story Never Told” succeeds this chicanery with jarring clarity. It’s an excellent tonal shift, with Åkerfeldt’s clean singing layered over a simple piano melody that’s as simple as it is beautiful. While The Last Will and Testament twists and turns throughout, the opening to this track lifts the listener out of the mire of family drama2 and closes affairs with peacefulness.

But The Last Will and Testament’s most important quality is its sheer mastery. There’s no one else that writes music like this, and rarely so successfully. Every element of its core fusion of death metal and progressive rock is highly accomplished, from the knotty compositions to the polished performances to the immaculate production. As referenced earlier, In Cauda Venenum has a similar scope of instrumentation and intricate compositions. But they’re elevated here; more harmonious, more sophisticated, more artful. “§5” is a prime example. There’s a high degree of intricacy as it folds crisp drums, dancing bass lines, beautiful strings, darting vocals, and bluesy guitars into something that oscillates between subtle jazz and crunchy death metal. I love the natural lilt and the unexpected transitions.3 It’s busy and dense with textures, but the bold melodies and crystalline production prevent the material from sinking into murkiness. I’ll also commend “A Story Never Told” as one of the best songs of the year. Its organic swell from delicate piano melodies to the grand guitar solo concludes the album on an endlessly moreish note.

The Last Will and Testament doesn’t yield any weaknesses. On their fourteenth go-round, Opeth has once more delivered something exemplary in conception, performance, and production. The songs are varied but focused, feeling shorter and tighter than prior work. And while its story may not be as tragic as prior Opeth concepts, I admire the willingness to have some fun with it.4 Existing fans will no doubt gain much from this experience, and anyone with their interest limited to O(ld)peth may just find something here too. 2024 sees these Swedes finding a new harmony in their sound, and connoisseurs of progressive music mustn’t miss this.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Websites: opeth.com | facebook.com/opeth
Releases Worldwide: November 22nd, 2024

#2024 #45 #DeathMetal #EnglishMetal #JethroTull #Nov24 #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TheLastWillAndTestament

Opeth – The Last Will and Testament Review

By El Cuervo

Little introduction is required for the progressive metal institution that is Sweden’s Opeth. In a career running over 30 years in length and spanning 13 previous studio albums, they have demonstrated an unending pursuit of progression by drawing in more influences as they’ve changed. From death metal to progressive rock to European folk to whimsical jazz, they have tracked a course that has always been fascinating, even if the quality has varied a little more than that. Reaching 2024, The Last Will and Testament is a remarkable record in a career full of remarkable records. It represents all of the following: the most overdue studio album, being released five years after its predecessor; the first release with the young but experienced Waltteri Väyrynen on drums; the return of harsh vocals for the first time in 16 years; and the first concept record since 1999’s Still Life.

Despite these remarkable qualities, The Last Will and Testament offers a smooth and natural progression from 2019’s In Cauda Venenum, but with discernible nods to other records in the Opeth discography. The first and most obvious reference is the progressive melodrama levered on Ghost Reveries and Watershed. The swinging passage from 1:30 on “§2”1 is effortlessly cool, layering groovy guitars and dramatic keyboards with spoken-word narration and a wild vibrato buried in the background. It recalls that specific era of death-influenced progressive metal, dripping with keyboard-generated atmosphere. The second core component of The Last Will and Testament’s sound is the heady compositions favored on In Cauda Venenum. That record featured varied, complex compositions but they’re too disparate. Those here are simultaneously sharper but also freer. “§4” bridges a soft flute interlude with a heavy guitar passage via a subtle drum crescendo, and despite the contrasting instrumentation, it’s smooth and cohesive in a way that few other bands can match. The musical continuity builds a sense of completeness, which is no doubt aided by the final influence in The Last Will and Testament’s sound: Still Life’s rich storytelling.

The album’s concept drives both the music and structure. The Last Will and Testament spins a yarn based around the administration of the estate of a wealthy man, replete with a seedy lawyer (entertainingly performed by Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull) and an imposing patriarch (given a voice through Mikael Åkerfeldt’s wrathful roar). The twisting tale of family intrigue and deception—including soap opera grudges and illicit children—is narrated across the first six tracks, before culminating in “§7” where Anderson delivers a deliciously-evil reading of the will to the unsuspecting beneficiaries. While this feels appropriately climactic, the final track “A Story Never Told” succeeds this chicanery with jarring clarity. It’s an excellent tonal shift, with Åkerfeldt’s clean singing layered over a simple piano melody that’s as simple as it is beautiful. While The Last Will and Testament twists and turns throughout, the opening to this track lifts the listener out of the mire of family drama2 and closes affairs with peacefulness.

But The Last Will and Testament’s most important quality is its sheer mastery. There’s no one else that writes music like this, and rarely so successfully. Every element of its core fusion of death metal and progressive rock is highly accomplished, from the knotty compositions to the polished performances to the immaculate production. As referenced earlier, In Cauda Venenum has a similar scope of instrumentation and intricate compositions. But they’re elevated here; more harmonious, more sophisticated, more artful. “§5” is a prime example. There’s a high degree of intricacy as it folds crisp drums, dancing bass lines, beautiful strings, darting vocals, and bluesy guitars into something that oscillates between subtle jazz and crunchy death metal. I love the natural lilt and the unexpected transitions.3 It’s busy and dense with textures, but the bold melodies and crystalline production prevent the material from sinking into murkiness. I’ll also commend “A Story Never Told” as one of the best songs of the year. Its organic swell from delicate piano melodies to the grand guitar solo concludes the album on an endlessly moreish note.

The Last Will and Testament doesn’t yield any weaknesses. On their fourteenth go-round, Opeth has once more delivered something exemplary in conception, performance, and production. The songs are varied but focused, feeling shorter and tighter than prior work. And while its story may not be as tragic as prior Opeth concepts, I admire the willingness to have some fun with it.4 Existing fans will no doubt gain much from this experience, and anyone with their interest limited to O(ld)peth may just find something here too. 2024 sees these Swedes finding a new harmony in their sound, and connoisseurs of progressive music mustn’t miss this.

Rating: 4.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Reigning Phoenix Music
Websites: opeth.com | facebook.com/opeth
Releases Worldwide: November 22nd, 2024

#2024 #45 #DeathMetal #EnglishMetal #JethroTull #Nov24 #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveMetal #Review #Reviews #TheLastWillAndTestament