#stevenwilson — Public Fediverse posts

Listurnalia is now upon us once again! If you are not ready to be assailed by non-stop lists and bad opinions for the next week and change, I suggest you get fooking ready! Listurnalia cannot be stopped, nor contained. It can only be tolerated and endured!

More than any year in recent history, 2025 saw more seasoned staffers step away from writing duties due to time constraints and life changes. To compensate for the loss of these slackwagoning quitters and shirkers, we added a gaggle of fresh new voices. This made for a bittersweet time around these parts as long-time friends departed and a bunch of untested, unknowns rose through the brutal n00b gauntlet to seize the means of promo production. These greenhorn neophytes have created great havoc at AMG HQ with their terrible taste, inability to follow directions, and steadfast refusal to ignore deathcore.

We’ve been here before, though, and we always straighten out the newbie upstarts. The daily beatings, deprivations, and absence of positive reinforcement will wear them down, and if not, we have plenty of space in the rotpit out back. This is, and will ever be, the AMG modality.

2026 will be an interesting year as the new crew members are shepherded by the olde while everyone is crushed beneath the iron heel of AMG management. Who will make it to 2027? Who will be sold off to Metal Wani for a box of bananas and Gorilla Glue? Place your bets in the official AMG Survival Pool!

As you read the Top Ten(ish) lists below, remember, reading our content is free, but you get what you pay for.

Grymm

#10. Venomous Echoes // Dysmor
#9. Blut Aus Nord // Ethereal Horizons
#8. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#7. Structure // Heritage
#6. Lorna Shore // I Feel The Everblack Festering Within Me
#5. Sigh // I Saw The World’s End – Hangman’s Hymn MMXXV
#4. Imperial Triumphant // Goldstar
#3. Am I In Trouble? // Spectrum
#2. Dax Riggs // 7 Songs for Spiders
#1. Paradise Lost // Ascension – I fully expected Paradise Lost to come out with quality music, which has been mostly par for the course in their storied almost-40-year career, and no one could blame them if they decided to coast along on their legendary sound. Instead, Ascension sees them giving a masterclass in songcraft and atmosphere, showing everyone, everywhere, how it’s done. With Black Sabbath now officially put to rest, Anathema long gone, and whatever the fuck is happening within My Dying Bride these days, somebody has to fly the British Doom flag high and proud, and Paradise Lost have done a bang-up job of doing so.

Personal Highlight o’ the Year: Seeing Acid Bath live. I may or may not have cried during “Venus Blue,” and no, I don’t fucking care. 19-Year-Old me was pleased as punch that 48-Year-Old me got to see a legendary band (and one of his personal favorites) come back from tragedy to pay tribute to their fallen bassist and friend, Audie Pitre, by giving it another long-awaited go.

Disappointment(s) o’ the Year:

• Losing so many influential heroes (RIP Ozzy Osbourne, Ace Frehley, and Tomas Lindberg, among too many others)
• My health: I was hoping to be a lot more active this year, but early on, I needed to, in the immortal words of David Lynch, “fix (my) heart or die.”1 Thankfully, after surgery, I feel a million times better, so you should see a lot more of me in 2026. You have been warned.

Song o’ the Year:

• Paradise Lost // “Salvation”

El Cuervo

#ish. Astronoid // Stargod
#10. Ollie Wride // The Pressure Point
#9. Kauan // Wayhome
#8. Zéro Absolu // La Saignée
#7. Mutagenic Host // The Diseased Machine
#6. Asira // As Ink in Water
#5. Bruit // The Age of Ephemerality
#4. Saor // Amidst the Ruins
#3. The Midnight // Syndicate
#2. Steven Wilson // The Overview
#1. Messa // The Spin – In a year replete with comfort picks—progressive rock, synthwave, and death metal abound—how is that Italy’s enigmatic, inscrutable Messa forged my Album o’ the Year? The Spin doesn’t take the trouble to make itself easily approachable. Doom, prog, and post influences circle around velvety melodies that sometimes sound like deliberate songs, and sometimes like jazz improvisation. But it’s these very qualities that belie its subtle allure; only with repetition and attention does The Spin shine. Messa gradually reveals rhythmic motifs, instrumental nuances, and rich compositions that enhance my life on so many days. “The Dress,” especially, is stunning. And though the record’s loungey whimsy defies metal conventions, each track prizes genuine grit through its top-drawer guitar riffs. With the devotion it demands, no record from 2025 was more rewarding than The Spin.

Honorable Mentions:

• Décryptal – Simulacre
• An Abstract Illusion – The Sleeping City
• Puteraeon – Mountains of Madness
• Hasard – Abgnose

Song o’ the Year:

• Ambush – “Maskirovka”



GardensTale

#ish. Structure // Heritage
#10. In Mourning //The Immortal
#9. Flummox // Southern Progress
#8. Der Weg Einer Freiheit // Innern
#7. Nephylim // Circuition
#6. Besna // Krásno
#5. Messa // The Spin
#4. Labyrinthus Stellarum // Rift in Reality
#3. Gazpacho // Magic 8 Ball
#2. Dormant Ordeal// Tooth & Nail
#1. Moron Police // Pachinko — I was a little nervous when I first read about the length and ambition behind Pachinko, especially in the context of the incredible and very concise A Boat on the Sea. I’ve never been this happy to be this wrong. Nothing in the last decade has overtaken my life as much as Pachinko has, and I’m listening to it yet again as I write this, and will probably restart it once it finishes. Pachinko has a lot in common with Everything Everywhere All At Once, one of my all-time favorite films, as a treatise on the chaos of life and the importance of friends and family. It treats its philosophy of silliness very seriously, laughing in the face of darkness in such a beautiful and inspiring way; it brightens my life every time I hear it. And it does all that in tribute to a dear friend who was gone too soon and too suddenly, and no other eulogistic album has let me feel like its subject’s soul touched mine. An astounding monument to friendship on top of an incredibly accomplished hour of music. Pachinko is a miracle.

Honorable Mentions:

• Hangover in Minsk // Party is Over
• 1914 // Viribus Unitis
• Bianca // Bianca
• Fange // Purulences
• An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City
• Blindfolded // What Seeps Through Threads

Song o’ the Year:

• Moron Police – “Giving up the Ghost”



Non-metal Albums of the Year:

• Lorde // Virgin
• Jonathan Hultén // Eyes of the Living Night
• Shayfer James // Summoning

Mark Z.

#ish. Malefic Throne // The Conquering Darkness
#10. Urn // Demon Steel
#9. Teitanblood // From the Visceral Abyss
#8. Shed the Skin // The Carnage Cast Shadows
#7. Guts // Nightmare Fuel
#6. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#5. Perdition Temple // Malign Apotheosis
#4. Paradise Lost // Ascension
#3. Revocation // New Gods, New Masters
#2. Death Yell // Demons of Lust
#1. Abominator // The Fire Brethren – It took me a few years after hearing this Australian duo’s last album, 2015’s Evil Proclaimed, to realize I was wrong about them. Their raw and relentless black-death metal wasn’t just good, it was fucking awesome. With their long-awaited sixth album, The Fire Brethren, Abominator has conjured flames that reach higher than ever. As always, the enraged rasps, scorching riffs, and endlessly pummeling rhythms are like plumes of hellfire shot directly into your ear canals. But amidst the bludgeoning is some genuinely great songwriting, with deep-cutting hooks (“The Templar’s Curse,” “Underworld Vociferations”), flashes of melody (“Progenitors of the Insurrection of Satan”), thrashy breaks (“Sulphur from the Heavens”), and just enough variety to keep everything hitting as hard as possible. It’s not for everyone, but for those into Angelcorpse and other music of that sort, The Fire Brethren is the type of album you just can’t get enough of.

Honorable Mention:

• Blasphamagoatachrist // Bestial Abominator

Song (Title) o’ the Year:

• Omegavortex – “Dystopian Worldrape”

Song o’ the Year:

• Fugitive – “Spheres of Virulence”



Carcharodon

#ish. Dax Riggs // 7 Songs for Spiders
#10. Novarupta // Astral Sands
#9. Atlantic // Timeworn
#8. Structure // Heritage
#7. Agriculture // The Spiritual Sound
#6. Igorr // Amen
#5. Messa // The Spin
#4. Abigail Williams // A Void Within Existence
#3. Cave Sermon // Fragile Wings
#2. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#1. Grima // Nightside – In each of 2019, 2021, and 2022, Grima released an album and, in each of those years, I listed said album (#5, HM, and #10). But this year, the year in which I have listened to the least metal and, of course, written the least since I started here in 2018, is also the year that Grima got everything dialled in to just what I want from a Grima album. On Nightside, the duo struck the perfect balance between the traditional influences of 2019’s Will of the Primordial and the propulsive, frozen atmosphere of Frostbitten (2022). The combination gives Nightside an almost hypnotic and weirdly tranquil flow, offset by Vilhelm’s rasping vocals, which remain among the best in the BM game. Every time I come back to this record, and the title track in particular, it’s even better than I remember it being, and I always end up spinning three or more times back-to-back. An album that can keep playing that trick deserves its #1 spot in my book.

Honorable Mentions:

• An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City
• Gorycz // Zasypia
• Psychonaut // World Maker
• Wardruna // Birna

Songs o’ the Year:

• Messa – “Fire on the Roof”



• Novarupta – “Now Here We Are (At the Inevitable End)”

Mysticus Hugebeard

#10. Orbit Culture // Death Above Life
#9. An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City
#8. Qrixkuor // The Womb of the World
#7. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#6. Panopticon // Laurentian Blue
#5. Blackbraid // Blackbraid III
#4. Arkhaaik // Uihtis
#3. Kauan // Wayhome
#2. Wardruna // Birna
#1. Thumos // The Trial of Socrates – I recall groggily stumbling upon Thumos’ The Trial of Socrates at work one early morning, and I’m not sure if I’ve grown attached to it or it’s grown attached to me. It looms in my periphery, routinely interrupting my listening schedule for just one more spin. This gargantuan dive into ancient Greek philosophy and justice is melodically rich, laden with atmosphere, and fiercely intelligent. I love how this album stimulates my curiosity. I pore over The Trial of Socrates like a madman, piecing the puzzle together with feverish glee but never quite feeling finished, because every re-listen yields new shapes, new colors, new ideas. It eggs me on to research various topics on ancient Greek history or philosophy, and even made for an unlikely study partner during my long preparations for the German A1 exam. I always feel smarter by the end of it—hubris, I’m sure, but The Trial of Socrates genuinely sparks my imagination in ways few albums do. Time to go listen to “The Phædo” for the zillionth time.

Honorable Mentions:

• Night Flight Orchestra // Give Us The Moon
• Mutagenic Host // The Diseased Machine

Songs o’ the Year:

• Disarmonia Mundi – “Outcast”

The Dormant Stranger by Disarmonia Mundi

• Jamie Page & Marcy Nabors – “Do No Harm (Ventricular Mix)”

Do No Harm by Jamie Paige, Marcy Nabors, & Penny Parker

• Thumos – “The Phædo”

The Trial of Socrates by Thumos

Disappointment(s) o’ the year:

• The dissolution of Ante-Inferno: After Death’s Soliloquy topped my list last year, I was genuinely gutted to see Ante-Inferno’s post that they were no more. Still, I shall not weep but rather smile that they happened, because Ante-Inferno was a rare breed of genuinely moving black metal. Just that one album rooted itself so deeply within me, and I will be listening for a long time.
• Arno Menses leaving Subsignal: Man, fuck. Fuck. Remember my nuclear-grade glaze of Subsignal, where I might as well have said Menses’ voice single-handedly justified the entire existence of music? How could I not break down in heaving sobs in the middle of this Denny’s when I heard that Menses and Subsignal have parted ways? It sucks, I tell ya. I will still listen to what Subsignal puts out in the future, because Markus Steffen is a talented musician, but it’s going to be a huge adjustment since Menses is nigh irreplaceable.

Samguineous Maximus

#ish. Imperial Triumphant // Goldstar
#10. Primitive Man // Observance
#9. Motherless // Do You Feel Safe?
#8. Deafheaven // Lonely People with Power
#7. Weeping Sores // The Convalescence Agonies
#6. Between the Buried and Me // The Blue Nowhere
#5. Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss
#4. 1914 // Viribus Unitis
#3. Crippling Alcoholism // Camgirl
#2. Crippling Alcoholism // Bible Songs II
#1. Yellow Eyes // Confusion Gate – Yellow Eyes are one of the best black metal bands in the game, and Confusion Gate is their most impressive work to date. It sees the band return to a more traditional atmospheric sound, but with the lessons learned from their explorations of dissonance and ambience. The result is a kaleidoscopic blend of gorgeous melodies, haunting riffs, and a pervasive sense of pathos that only the best art can achieve. Confusion Gate feels like communing with nature from the top of a wintry peak, embodying both impossible grandeur and awesome terror. This is a record that bypasses the analytical reviewer’s brain and just hits me right in the feeling. It offers a unique catharsis in a year where I truly needed it.

Honorable Mentions

• Flummox // Southern Progress
• Hexrot // Formless Ruin of Oblivion
• Ava Mendoza/Gabby fluke-Mogal/Carolina Pérez // Mama Killa
• Strigiform // Aconite

Song o’ the Year:

• Crippling Alcoholism – “Ladies Night”



Spicie Forrest

#ish. Cryptopsy // An Insatiable Violence
#10. Crimson Shadows // Whispers of War
#9. Oromet // The Sinking Isle
#8. -ii- // Apostles of the Flesh
#7. Suncraft // Welcome to the Coven
#6. Suncraft // Profanation of the Adamic Covenant
#5. Chestcrush // ΨΥΧΟΒΓΑΛΤΗΣ
#4. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#3. Qrixkuor // The Womb of the World
#2. Primitive Man // Observance
#1. Wytch Hazel // V: Lamentations – I know, I’m surprised too. But the bottom line is that I’ve been listening to V: Lamentations front to back at least once a week since it released on the most American of holidays, July 4th. For Steel, Wytch Hazel’s latest didn’t have the same staying power as previous efforts, but Lamentations is the first to truly resonate with me. Though musically consistent with their Wishbone Ash-meets-Eagles style, vocalist Colin Hendra brings a new sense of passion to the record, and the interplay between instruments, vocals, and lyrics hits me like a lightning bolt. Very possibly inspired by the core Christian tenet laid out in Romans 6:23-24,2 Lamentations is a masterful portrayal of what it means to perpetually fail, to know you’ll never be good enough, and in the face of a salvation that renders all efforts, deeds, and accomplishments worthless, to keep striving toward the impossible anyway. Even for godless sinners like me, Lamentations is a beautiful reminder that purpose is found in hardship, that the journey is the goal, and that falling down is merely an opportunity to stand up again.

Honorable Mentions:

• Proscription // Desolate Divine
• Apocalypse Orchestra // A Plague upon Thee
• Messa // The Spin
• Bloodywood // Nu Delhi
• Pedestal for Leviathan // Enter: Vampyric Manifestation

Song o’ the Year:

• Yellowcard – “honestly i”

Grin Reaper

(ish) Sallow Moth // Mossbane Lantern
#10. Turian // Blood Quantum Blues
#9. Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss
#8. Lychgate // Precipice
#7. An Abstract Illusion // The Sleeping City
#6. Thron // Vurias
#5. Structure // Heritage
#4. Species // Changelings
#3. Havukruunu // Tavastland
#2. Aephanemer // Utopie
#1. 1914 // Viribus Unitis – I didn’t know Viribus Unitis would be my top album of the year the first time I listened to it, but I knew it would list. 1914’s naked emotion and rousing story of a Ukrainian soldier’s survival through World War I, reconciliation with his family, and inescapable return to war remains as gripping and bittersweet now as it did the first time I heard it. Across adrenaline-fueled riffing, oppressive marches, and somber dirges, 1914 never relents on musical or lyrical weight. Though Viribus Unitis was released late in the year, it quickly became the standard I used to appraise albums while going through listing season. 1914 paints war-torn life with savage grace, supplying devastating melody and grueling crawls that elevate the album to such heights that I’m genuinely moved each time I get to the end. Viribus Unitis is bleak, raw, and human, but for all that, I’m never deterred from listening. Ultimately, 1914 clutches the threads of hope and weaves an aural tapestry that brings tragedy and triumph to life, cementing Viribus Unitis as my undisputed top album of 2025.

Honorable Mentions:

• Walg // V
• Moron Police // Pachinko
• Defigurement // Endbryo
• Ültra Raptör // Fossilized
• Igorrr // Amen

Songs o’ the Year:

• Aephanemer – “Le Cimetière Marin”

• 1914 – “1918 Pt. III: ADE (A Duty to Escape)”

Andy-War-Hall

#ish: Dragon Skull // Chaos Fire Vengeance
#10: Changeling // Changeling
#9: Steel Arctus // Dreamruler
#8: Abigail Williams //A Void Within Existence
#7: Petrified Giant // Endless Ark
#6: Imperial Triumphant // Goldstar
#5: Structure // Heritage
#4: Lipoma // No Cure for the Sick
#3: Crippling Alcoholism // Camgirl
#2: Hexrot // Formless Ruin of Oblivion
#1: 1914 // Viribus Unitis – Immersion defines great music and art for me. It is almost unfortunate how good 1914 are in this facet of their music. Their ability to transport the listener to the battlefield in all its violence, both carnal and psychological, is stupefying. The utter dehumanizing hatred with “1914 (The Siege of Przemyśl),” the ravenous bloodlust of “1917 (The Isonzo Front),” the hellish wails haunting “1918 Pt. 1 (WIA – Wounded in Action):” all portrayed vividly through 1914’s brilliantly caustic and composed musicianship and deeply personal lyricism. When Dmytro Ternushchak bellows “For three days / The Russians attacked / And accomplished nothing but / 40,000 dead pigs” [“1914 (The Siege of Przemyśl)”], it’s all you need to get into his character’s violent headspace. When 1914 mournfully sing in Ukrainian “Це моя земля”3 [1915 (Easter Battle for the Zwinin Ridge)], you grasp how someone could put their life on the line for kin and country. When our soldier sings “My little girl reached out to me / But duty calls” [1919 (The Home Where I Died)]… well, shit, your heart just has to break, right? 1914 don’t play “history metal.” Viribus Unitis is as present and relevant as you can get.

Honorable Mentions:

• Fell Omen // Caelid Dog Summer
• Ophelion // The Jaunt
• Coroner // Dissonance Theory
• Starscourge // Conqueror of the Stars – Betwixt Sundered Seraphim, the Lands Between Bleed

Song o’ the Year:

• Fell Omen – “The Fire is Still Warm”



Lavender Larcenist

#ish Spiritbox // Tsunami Sea
#10. Sold Soul // Just Like That, I Disappear Entirely
#9. Calva Louise // Edge of the Abyss
#8. Dying Wish // Flesh Stays Together
#7. Grima // Nightside
#6. Aversed // Erasure of Color
#5. Deafheaven // Lonely People With Power
#4. Ghost Bath // Rose Thorn Necklace
#3. Changeling // Changeling
#2. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#1. Crippling Alcoholism // Camgirl – Sometimes you listen to music, and you feel like it gets you. Camgirl was exactly that type of album, and it probably doesn’t say anything good about me. Ever since Crippling Alcoholism’s latest graced my ears and I shared it with my partner, we have been singing “I fucking hate the way I look, yeah I look like a fat fucking scumbag” way too often and mumbling “Mr. Ran away, ran away from family” every chance we get. The album is dripping with the atmosphere of neon-lit back rooms, seedy interactions, and terrible decision-making. It feels like a lens into the lives of those society has left behind, and I can’t help but feel a connection. The self-destructive nihilism, drugged-out sex, and abrupt violence that is all too common in those on the margins of life is something I think more and more we can all relate to, and Camgirl is the art that mirrors society back to us. As a result, it is an album that is just as ugly as it is terrifying and beautiful.

Honorable Mentions:

• Shadow of Intent // Imperium Delirium
• Pupil Slicer // Fleshwork
• 1914 // Viribus Unitis

Song o’ the Year:

• Crippling Alcoholism – “bedrot”

Creeping Ivy

#ish. Nite // Cult of the Serpent Sun
#10. Blackbraid // Blackbraid III
#9. Flummox // Southern Progress
#8. 1914 // Viribus Unitis
#7. Cave Sermon // Fragile Wings
#6. Saor // Amidst the Ruins
#5. Imperial Triumphant // Goldstar
#4. Phantom Spell // Heather & Hearth
#3. Coroner // Dissonance Theory
#2. Messa // The Spin
#1. Havukruunu // Tavastland – On their Bandcamp page, Havukruunu explain the concept of their fourth LP: ‘Tavastland tells how in 1237 the Tavastians rose in rebellion against the church of Christ and drove the popes naked into the frost to die.’ Sounds like the metal album of 2025 to me! But I didn’t crown Tavastland for its lyrics that I can’t understand. As Dr. A.N. Grier has been exhorting for a decade, Havukruunu stands as a model of Viking black metal consistency, having dropped only very good-to-great albums since 2015. Tavastland isn’t a radical improvement over 2020’s Uinuous syömein sota, but it’s an (arguably excellent) improvement nonetheless, making it Havukruunu’s finest work yet. Yes, these fiery Finns forge sounds reminiscent of Bathory and Immortal, but Tavastland seized my attention for its adventurous prog sensibilities. Some of this can be attributed to the return of Hümo, whose bass rattles like the four strings of Geddy Lee. But the prog is deep in the album craft, from the overture-style modulations of opener “Kuolematon laulunhenki” to the extended guitar wankery of closer “De miseriis fennorum.” Now if only I can learn Finnish, I’ll be able to appreciate the killer anti-popery narrative while headbanging to my Record o’ 2025.

Honorable Mentions:

• Am I in Trouble? // Spectrum
• Blut Aus Nord // Ethereal Horizons
• In Mourning // The Immortal
• Oromet // The Sinking Isle
• Wyatt E. // Zamāru Ultu Qereb Ziqquratu Part 1

Song o’ the Year:

• Phantom Spell – “The Autumn Citadel”



Baguette of Bodom

#ish. In the Woods… // Otra
#10. Species // Changelings
#9. Dragon Skull // Chaos Fire Vengeance
#8. A-Z // A2Z²
#7. Apocalypse Orchestra // A Plague upon Thee
#6. Amorphis // Borderland
#5. Dolmen Gate // Echoes of Ancient Tales
#4. Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail
#3. Amalekim // Shir Hashirim
#2. Suotana // Ounas II
#1. Buried Realm // The Dormant Darkness – Melodic tech death? Symphonic power metal? Who knows! Much like my 2025 in general, The Dormant Darkness has a bit of everything in one gigantic clusterfuck. The great news is, neither I nor the album crumbled under all that weight. In a year full of odd twists and turns, my list became more varied and unusual than ever. Buried Realm took this variety and gave me everything I like about metal in one dense package: blazing speeds, soaring guitars, majestic vocals, and relentless fury. It’s also inexplicably well-produced for how many layers there are to deal with. While 2025 was not a particularly star-studded release year—especially compared to most of the 2020s so far—it threw plenty of fun curveballs at me, and The Dormant Darkness exemplifies this with its Xothian fusion of metal subgenres in one big Ophidian I blender ov shred. I would also like to request several Christian Älvestam features on every album, please.

Honorable Mentions:

• Victim of Fire // The Old Lie
• Dawn of Solace // Affliction Vortex
• Dynazty // Game of Faces
• Coroner // Dissonance Theory
• Hooded Menace // Lachrymose Monuments of Obscuration

Song o’ the Year:

• Dragon Skull – “Blood and Souls”

Chaos Fire Vengeance by Dragon Skull

#BestMaster: #Kauan - Wayhome

https://album.link/t/429390240

#StevenWilson's "The Overview" could have easily claimed top spot in this category, until these guys came along: the album sounds perfect, without being overpolished.

Jansen/Barbieri/Karn - Playing in a Room with People

2001 live recording, released on LP for RSD 2020 in the UK.

3/4 of Japan/Rain Tree Crow, with Steven Wilson playing the (guitar) part of David Sylvian.

Worth seeking out if any of that sounds interesting…

#nowplaying #vinyl #JansenBarberiKarn #SteveJansen #RichardBarbieri #MickKarn #StevenWilson

Opeth from Worst to Best: 13-9

By Angry Metal Guy

On the 22nd of November, Opeth will release full-length number fourteen—which we have already reviewed, if you have not seen it. We sometimes “go ranking” here at Angry Metal Guy, but in the case of Opeth that just doesn’t convey the profound influence the band has had or the depth of the personal relationship that I—Angry Metal Guy—have with one of Sweden’s greatest metal and progressive bands. It is therefore in the spirit of the Iron Maiden from Worst to Be(a)st that this particular incarnation of the rankings has been conceived. But this time, I have invited El Cuervo to tag along. Enjoy this trip down memory lane. I look forward to fighting with you in the comments.

Angry Metal Guy

For me, Opeth played a major role in my development as a metalhead, as a fan of extreme metal and prog, and, of course, as a guitar player and songwriter. And they’re probably the band aside from Iron Maiden that I have called my favorite band most frequently throughout my life. While my fandom most certainly peaked around Ghost Reveries—having seen the band at least a half dozen times between their first US show at Milwaukee Metalfest and moving to Sweden myself—they continue to play a major role in how I think about music and how I interpret the modern metal scene.

On a personal note, I have also had the privilege of getting to spend time with the band in various ways. The first Swede I ever spoke Swedish to was Peter Lindgren, though I hardly knew a word at the time. I was recommended the absolutely legendary—to the point of being a cultural joke in Sweden—Jazz på svenska by Mikael Åkerfeldt on a bus one time when we were talking about folk metal. I once explored the basement at The Rave in Milwaukee with Fredrik Åkesson (then in Arch Enemy),1 Eric Hersemann (Gigan, ex-Hate Eternal), and my friend, the late Adam Sagan (Witherfall, White Empress, Circle II Circle, among others) on my birthday before I moved to Sweden. Since being in Sweden, I have become friends with the estimable Martin López of Soen, which I never imagined would happen.

All of this is to say that my connections to Opeth both emotionally and musically are stronger than just about any band in the world. That said, I don’t think that I have as nearly a so idiosyncratic view on Opeth as I did on Iron Maiden when I wrote the Worst to Beast posts. Unlike Iron Maiden, I was part of the metal consensus at the time that Opeth was releasing its most iconic material. I was swept away by Blackwater Park and was bummed when they announced that death metal was for losers before releasing Heritage. I have been on this rollercoaster ride in a way that I wasn’t for Maiden. And I love these guys and all the joy their music has given me over the years. Even as I’ve gotten older and more jaded about Åkerfeldt’s schtick, I can remember a time when I could say in all honesty that I could happily put their entire discography on shuffle and I wouldn’t have encountered a bad song. So, this is going to be an interesting exercise.

As usual, I have created tiers. So let’s start with…

Foregopeth

#13. Heritage (2011). “Heritage is full of great riffs and ideas, but not many very good songs,” I wrote in 2011 as I fearfully gave Heritage a 2/5—disappointing. Not only do I think I probably overrated the album, but I’m no longer afraid that people are going to think I’m just one of those people who think Opeth couldn’t write a good record without growls. So, I’ll be even franker than I was at the time: Heritage is bad. And the frustrations I have with the record are twofold. First, the thing that made Opeth sound like Opeth was the blending of different styles into through-composed tracks that felt utterly seamless. Heritage upended that—though this problem is part of why Watershed ranks as low as it does, too—and instead placed all its bets on an approach to songwriting that feels, nearly 15 years later, just as lazy (or rushed) as it did in 2011. I get this strong sense that Åkerfeldt was using keyboards as an overly expedient way to accomplish what surely took a lot of time on earlier albums; transitioning between disparate ideas that were not written to be played together initially. It’s like Åkerfeldt and Åkesson were just sitting on the studio floor picking riffs out of a hat and then saying to Per: “Yeah, so, just make up something to get us from Point A to Point B.” So while there are, as I said in the original review, excellent parts on Heritage, the whole is so much less than any individual part taken in isolation. Ultimately, Heritage is disjointed. Even if I liked individual songs or moments—I’m a sucker for that Swedish folk feel that they were going for here and have played with since—this album doesn’t stand on its own.2

#12. Sorceress (2016). One of the accusations lodged against critics of post-Watershed Opeth is that anyone who’s critical is just mad that they aren’t playing death metal anymore. While I liked Sorceress quite a bit when it was first released, this album has not aged particularly well in my ears. There are two primary reasons that it’s ended up being a letdown. First, as I pointed out at the time, the production was muddy, and when combined with the band’s “dedication to the blue note,” it ended up feeling like the most intentionally retro album that Opeth has ever released. But second, given that the album is quite angry—and given its ostensible oblique references to Åkerfeldt’s divorce, there’s an angry vibe here—Sorceress is the record where the accusation that critics don’t like it because it’s not death metal feels the most accurate. Moving away from metal makes Newpeth feel toothless at times. While Axe drops double kicks and Åkerfeldt drops Åkeriffs that seem at times reminiscent of the heavier material from Deliverance or Ghost Reveries, they just don’t usually punch through. When the band cranks up the intensity, that dog is all bark and has no bite whatsoever. With that in mind, I would probably downgrade this from very good to good, as I still enjoy it. And when these guys hit peaks—I like “Sorceress” quite a bit, but the real highlight for me is “Chrysalis”—I still enjoy this album. The songwriting is enjoyable, but it doesn’t quite carry with it those qualities that make the best Opeth records the best.

#11. Watershed (2008). Watershed marks the first time that I disliked an Opeth album. While Ghost Reveries took me time to appreciate, Watershed was a record that it has taken me nearly 15 years to come to appreciate. I want to take you back to 2006 when Opeth was on Gigantour. Ghost Reveries had been a huge breakout hit for Roadrunner and Opeth toured like crazy. A friend of mine and I had gone to see Gigantour in Milwaukee and had been given passes by then-guitarist Peter Lindgren. I asked how they were doing, and he told me that they had been touring like crazy, that the band was super tired, and that their label had been pressuring them to get into the studio directly after Gigantour was going to end. He told me that they weren’t ready at all, that they’d had only a couple weeks home, and that there was no way they were going to be able to produce something good with that kind of pressure. Watershed was a spring release in 2008, Opeth played its final show of the Ghost Reveries tour in Italy on the 18th of December, 2006. That means that the Watershed was likely finished in January of 2008,3 giving them less than a one-year turnaround after a grueling schedule in 2005 and 2006, where they played nearly 230 live dates. And I think you can hear it on Watershed.

Watershed sounds (to this day) like a record that was written and produced by a very, very tired Mikael Åkerfeldt. Peter Lindgren, unsurprisingly, left the band in May of 2007, leading to Fredrik Åkesson’s debut on this album. As well, Martin Axenrot joined on drums and despite having played in the band since 2006, had not yet caught up to Lopez’s superb groove and feel. And Watershed sounds rushed. This is the most obvious in the fact that it is loaded with uninteresting, jarring transitions—which I generously referred to as Frippism’s in my review of Sorceress, but which I never found to be as mad or well-conceived as King Crimson. Between the jarring transitions, the studio tricks,4 and the sense that there was just a lack of enthusiasm for death metal throughout, I never understood why Watershed is considered by some Opeth fans to be such a masterpiece. When I initially bought the album, the cover version of “Den ständiga resan” was the song I liked the most. With time, I have softened on Watershed. There are moments of greatness scattered throughout, “Porcelain Heart” was a good single—and I love the clean vocal harmonies before the classic melancholic solo and the acoustic part—and “Burden” was a cock rock song, but it was a good one. I’ve often felt that with another six or nine months to percolate, Watershed would have been a better record.

Mediopeth

#10. Deliverance (2002). It should come as no surprise that Deliverance is now understood to be an album where Opeth was riling in deep drama. Following the huge breakthrough of Blackwater Park, they were on a tight schedule and Åkerfeldt—in an act of supreme hubris—decided he was going to write not one, but two albums. And while that was a choice he could’ve made, it wasn’t a choice he had to make, especially given the kind of quick turnaround that they were on. On top of that, as the story goes, they entered the studio with essentially nothing ready to go. What transpired was an absolute nightmare of a recording session that would wound the band deeply and I have understood from what has been written in other places that it was sort of the beginning of the end of the band’s most iconic lineup.

And yet, Deliverance—while displaying some chinks in the armor for the first time in the band’s career—was still an absolutely wonderful, enjoyable success.5 Spawning classics like the title track—which makes fans squeal like pigs every time Opeth breaks it out—and “Master’s Apprentices,” which in retrospect feels like a preview of the style that Ghost Reveries would perfect, Deliverance was a record that reeked of greatness even when it was the result of one of the most absurd Night before the Test Cram Sessions that the world has ever seen. Being the worst of the band’s best material is a bit like playing in the Champions League,6 no one should doubt that you’re great. Shoutout to the clean part and the melodic solos in “By the Pain I See in Others,” I see you.

#9. In Cauda Venenum (2019). While not Oldpeth, In Cauda Venenum is a tremendous and interesting album of its own accord. Sure, in some ways, it continued the Sorceress journey toward feeling like a band out of time—lots of blues scales and that Bill Ward swing showing up throughout (“De närmast sörjande”). And yet, In Cauda Venenum is just such a thoughtful and fun record. And yes, I suppose that part of that has to do with the fact that I speak Swedish and so I was able to be charmed by the old interviews with Swedish children about God and death, but that’s reductive.7 The reality is that while Sorceress had a hard rock vibe to it, In Cauda Venenum felt like genuine prog; like Opeth was finally getting really good at working in the space that they had been trying to work in since 2011.8 Not only that, I have trouble seeing how people don’t just adore “Hjärtat vet vad handen gör” or “Minnets yta,” which find Opeth flexing muscles that I didn’t know they had. Or “Charlatan” which flexes old muscles in new, unique ways, and feels influential to the direction that The Last Will & Testament went. So, rather than feeling like a modern band making an old style of music, In Cauda Venenum oozes Opeth’s unique voice and charm—and this time, its lyrics weren’t scribbled on toilet paper between guitar takes. That sense of coherence is a feature hard to argue for when records like Watershed contain lyrics like “Do children cry / When mommy dies / And later in their lives / Will they throw their hands to the sky?” or whatever9—is part of what makes it such a strong record. In Cauda Venenum is a great, diverse, and thoughtful record and I think I like it more today than I did in 2019.

El Cuervo

#13. Heritage (2011). Heritage enjoys the dubious honor of being the only Opeth release that I don’t return to at all. Significant volumes of ink have been spilled on the dramatic divestment of death metal on this record, even if it also represented a natural progression onward from the remainder of their discography. Nor do I feel the need to justify my enjoyment of non-metal prog; anyone remotely familiar with my music tastes knows that 70s prog is my musical home ground. Where Heritage falls is in its fragmented songwriting and album flow. One of Opeth’s best qualities is their capacity to write music that feels seamless, even if the transitions are sometimes dramatic. But Heritage introduces variety without harmonization; songs that stand apart from each other and feel less like an album. It sounds more like a compilation of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal. It’s by some margin the weakest Opeth album.

#12. In Cauda Venenum (2019). I stand by the 3.0 I bestowed on In Cauda Venenum. It’s one of the most varied albums in the Opeth discography, perversely resulting in one of their least predictable albums at a late point in their career. But while the bottom entry of this ranking overspills from variety for its own sake, In Cauda Venenum offers a smart harmonization of varied sounds, tones, and instruments. Sadly, although Opeth achieve more than most across multiple long albums, this album suffers the worst for this quality as I find it tough to digest in one entire sitting. In an art form where the purpose is for the listener to experience a collection of songs in a particular order and without breaks, I struggle here. I also find it to be less memorable than other Opeth albums. Ask me to hum a tune from this one and I struggle to do so, which consigns it to this position in my ranking.

#11. Sorceress (2016). Never satisfied standing still, Sorceress sees Opeth striking out from a predecessor marked by its dedication to one particular sound (Pale Communion and 70s prog) while nonetheless remaining a natural successor. Åkerfeldt’s trademark approach to progressive rock here finds new bedfellows in blues and Swedish folk, from the fat grooves to the whimsical flutes. This forges a sound that remains unique in the band’s career, especially when presented with production that evokes the band wallowing in a muddy pool. The bubbly bass, robust drums, and bluesy guitars each rely on a warm, fuzzy tone that’s deeply indebted to (non-progressive) 70s rock, almost reaching the heady haze of stoner music. Sorceress doesn’t enjoy equal quality throughout, with clearer highlights and lowlights than most other Opeth albums, but it undoubtedly improves with repetition. And though it may not be my favorite Opeth release, I’ll be damned if it isn’t their best artwork.

#10. My Arms Your Hearse (1998). I suspect there will only be two real surprises on this ranking. The first is where I placed Blackwater Park (“Why is it not at the top you FUCKING IDIOT”). The second is where I’ve placed My Arms Your Hearse. It’s a low-key fan favorite and regarded by many as a crossing point, from Opeth in their rougher, blacker days to Opeth in their tighter, deathier days. It demonstrates the band smoothing over some of the rawer cracks from their earliest material, and compiling their core fusion of extreme metal and progressive rock into the smart, knotty compositions for which they would achieve acclaim. It’s a clear precursor to the band that would come to define progressive extreme metal. And yet it doesn’t stick with me as much as their competing material. It’s bleak and heavy – arguably their heaviest record overall – but hadn’t quite found that perfect blend of lightness to counter-balance their heaviness. It’s just shy of greatness.

#9. Morningrise (1996). While its predecessor Orchid is no stranger to long songs, Morningrise stretched this young band to its limits with expansive, progressive compositions, including the longest song in their discography: the inimitable highlight titled “Black Rose Immortal.” It’s a record with fabulous moments but most tracks become meandering and drawn-out. And despite the general trend towards softer, balanced production through Opeth’s discography, Morningrise has a thinner, reedier texture than Orchid, positioning it closer to black metal than any other Opeth release. As much as I enjoy black metal it doesn’t quite fit their aesthetic for me, even if this texture lends it a unique feel in the band’s catalog. Despite its shortcomings, I still find Morningrise an entrancing experience; the detailed compositions, lengthy songs, and cyclical leads engender a rich atmosphere that feels unlike anything else. It was also the first indicator that Opeth was a band constantly seeking development and I will always commend progression.

#AMGGoesRanking #AMGRankings #BlogPost #Camel #DeathMetal #Goblin #JethroTull #MorbidAngel #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveRock #StevenWilson #SwedishMetal

Opeth from Worst to Best: 13-9

By Angry Metal Guy

On the 22nd of November, Opeth will release full-length number fourteen—which we have already reviewed, if you have not seen it. We sometimes “go ranking” here at Angry Metal Guy, but in the case of Opeth that just doesn’t convey the profound influence the band has had or the depth of the personal relationship that I—Angry Metal Guy—have with one of Sweden’s greatest metal and progressive bands. It is therefore in the spirit of the Iron Maiden from Worst to Be(a)st that this particular incarnation of the rankings has been conceived. But this time, I have invited El Cuervo to tag along. Enjoy this trip down memory lane. I look forward to fighting with you in the comments.

Angry Metal Guy

For me, Opeth played a major role in my development as a metalhead, as a fan of extreme metal and prog, and, of course, as a guitar player and songwriter. And they’re probably the band aside from Iron Maiden that I have called my favorite band most frequently throughout my life. While my fandom most certainly peaked around Ghost Reveries—having seen the band at least a half dozen times between their first US show at Milwaukee Metalfest and moving to Sweden myself—they continue to play a major role in how I think about music and how I interpret the modern metal scene.

On a personal note, I have also had the privilege of getting to spend time with the band in various ways. The first Swede I ever spoke Swedish to was Peter Lindgren, though I hardly knew a word at the time. I was recommended the absolutely legendary—to the point of being a cultural joke in Sweden—Jazz på svenska by Mikael Åkerfeldt on a bus one time when we were talking about folk metal. I once explored the basement at The Rave in Milwaukee with Fredrik Åkesson (then in Arch Enemy),1 Eric Hersemann (Gigan, ex-Hate Eternal), and my friend, the late Adam Sagan (Witherfall, White Empress, Circle II Circle, among others) on my birthday before I moved to Sweden. Since being in Sweden, I have become friends with the estimable Martin López of Soen, which I never imagined would happen.

All of this is to say that my connections to Opeth both emotionally and musically are stronger than just about any band in the world. That said, I don’t think that I have as nearly a so idiosyncratic view on Opeth as I did on Iron Maiden when I wrote the Worst to Beast posts. Unlike Iron Maiden, I was part of the metal consensus at the time that Opeth was releasing its most iconic material. I was swept away by Blackwater Park and was bummed when they announced that death metal was for losers before releasing Heritage. I have been on this rollercoaster ride in a way that I wasn’t for Maiden. And I love these guys and all the joy their music has given me over the years. Even as I’ve gotten older and more jaded about Åkerfeldt’s schtick, I can remember a time when I could say in all honesty that I could happily put their entire discography on shuffle and I wouldn’t have encountered a bad song. So, this is going to be an interesting exercise.

As usual, I have created tiers. So let’s start with…

Foregopeth

#13. Heritage (2011). “Heritage is full of great riffs and ideas, but not many very good songs,” I wrote in 2011 as I fearfully gave Heritage a 2/5—disappointing. Not only do I think I probably overrated the album, but I’m no longer afraid that people are going to think I’m just one of those people who think Opeth couldn’t write a good record without growls. So, I’ll be even franker than I was at the time: Heritage is bad. And the frustrations I have with the record are twofold. First, the thing that made Opeth sound like Opeth was the blending of different styles into through-composed tracks that felt utterly seamless. Heritage upended that—though this problem is part of why Watershed ranks as low as it does, too—and instead placed all its bets on an approach to songwriting that feels, nearly 15 years later, just as lazy (or rushed) as it did in 2011. I get this strong sense that Åkerfeldt was using keyboards as an overly expedient way to accomplish what surely took a lot of time on earlier albums; transitioning between disparate ideas that were not written to be played together initially. It’s like Åkerfeldt and Åkesson were just sitting on the studio floor picking riffs out of a hat and then saying to Per: “Yeah, so, just make up something to get us from Point A to Point B.” So while there are, as I said in the original review, excellent parts on Heritage, the whole is so much less than any individual part taken in isolation. Ultimately, Heritage is disjointed. Even if I liked individual songs or moments—I’m a sucker for that Swedish folk feel that they were going for here and have played with since—this album doesn’t stand on its own.2

#12. Sorceress (2016). One of the accusations lodged against critics of post-Watershed Opeth is that anyone who’s critical is just mad that they aren’t playing death metal anymore. While I liked Sorceress quite a bit when it was first released, this album has not aged particularly well in my ears. There are two primary reasons that it’s ended up being a letdown. First, as I pointed out at the time, the production was muddy, and when combined with the band’s “dedication to the blue note,” it ended up feeling like the most intentionally retro album that Opeth has ever released. But second, given that the album is quite angry—and given its ostensible oblique references to Åkerfeldt’s divorce, there’s an angry vibe here—Sorceress is the record where the accusation that critics don’t like it because it’s not death metal feels the most accurate. Moving away from metal makes Newpeth feel toothless at times. While Axe drops double kicks and Åkerfeldt drops Åkeriffs that seem at times reminiscent of the heavier material from Deliverance or Ghost Reveries, they just don’t usually punch through. When the band cranks up the intensity, that dog is all bark and has no bite whatsoever. With that in mind, I would probably downgrade this from very good to good, as I still enjoy it. And when these guys hit peaks—I like “Sorceress” quite a bit, but the real highlight for me is “Chrysalis”—I still enjoy this album. The songwriting is enjoyable, but it doesn’t quite carry with it those qualities that make the best Opeth records the best.

#11. Watershed (2008). Watershed marks the first time that I disliked an Opeth album. While Ghost Reveries took me time to appreciate, Watershed was a record that it has taken me nearly 15 years to come to appreciate. I want to take you back to 2006 when Opeth was on Gigantour. Ghost Reveries had been a huge breakout hit for Roadrunner and Opeth toured like crazy. A friend of mine and I had gone to see Gigantour in Milwaukee and had been given passes by then-guitarist Peter Lindgren. I asked how they were doing, and he told me that they had been touring like crazy, that the band was super tired, and that their label had been pressuring them to get into the studio directly after Gigantour was going to end. He told me that they weren’t ready at all, that they’d had only a couple weeks home, and that there was no way they were going to be able to produce something good with that kind of pressure. Watershed was a spring release in 2008, Opeth played its final show of the Ghost Reveries tour in Italy on the 18th of December, 2006. That means that the Watershed was likely finished in January of 2008,3 giving them less than a one-year turnaround after a grueling schedule in 2005 and 2006, where they played nearly 230 live dates. And I think you can hear it on Watershed.

Watershed sounds (to this day) like a record that was written and produced by a very, very tired Mikael Åkerfeldt. Peter Lindgren, unsurprisingly, left the band in May of 2007, leading to Fredrik Åkesson’s debut on this album. As well, Martin Axenrot joined on drums and despite having played in the band since 2006, had not yet caught up to Lopez’s superb groove and feel. And Watershed sounds rushed. This is the most obvious in the fact that it is loaded with uninteresting, jarring transitions—which I generously referred to as Frippism’s in my review of Sorceress, but which I never found to be as mad or well-conceived as King Crimson. Between the jarring transitions, the studio tricks,4 and the sense that there was just a lack of enthusiasm for death metal throughout, I never understood why Watershed is considered by some Opeth fans to be such a masterpiece. When I initially bought the album, the cover version of “Den ständiga resan” was the song I liked the most. With time, I have softened on Watershed. There are moments of greatness scattered throughout, “Porcelain Heart” was a good single—and I love the clean vocal harmonies before the classic melancholic solo and the acoustic part—and “Burden” was a cock rock song, but it was a good one. I’ve often felt that with another six or nine months to percolate, Watershed would have been a better record.

Mediopeth

#10. Deliverance (2002). It should come as no surprise that Deliverance is now understood to be an album where Opeth was riling in deep drama. Following the huge breakthrough of Blackwater Park, they were on a tight schedule and Åkerfeldt—in an act of supreme hubris—decided he was going to write not one, but two albums. And while that was a choice he could’ve made, it wasn’t a choice he had to make, especially given the kind of quick turnaround that they were on. On top of that, as the story goes, they entered the studio with essentially nothing ready to go. What transpired was an absolute nightmare of a recording session that would wound the band deeply and I have understood from what has been written in other places that it was sort of the beginning of the end of the band’s most iconic lineup.

And yet, Deliverance—while displaying some chinks in the armor for the first time in the band’s career—was still an absolutely wonderful, enjoyable success.5 Spawning classics like the title track—which makes fans squeal like pigs every time Opeth breaks it out—and “Master’s Apprentices,” which in retrospect feels like a preview of the style that Ghost Reveries would perfect, Deliverance was a record that reeked of greatness even when it was the result of one of the most absurd Night before the Test Cram Sessions that the world has ever seen. Being the worst of the band’s best material is a bit like playing in the Champions League,6 no one should doubt that you’re great. Shoutout to the clean part and the melodic solos in “By the Pain I See in Others,” I see you.

#9. In Cauda Venenum (2019). While not Oldpeth, In Cauda Venenum is a tremendous and interesting album of its own accord. Sure, in some ways, it continued the Sorceress journey toward feeling like a band out of time—lots of blues scales and that Bill Ward swing showing up throughout (“De närmast sörjande”). And yet, In Cauda Venenum is just such a thoughtful and fun record. And yes, I suppose that part of that has to do with the fact that I speak Swedish and so I was able to be charmed by the old interviews with Swedish children about God and death, but that’s reductive.7 The reality is that while Sorceress had a hard rock vibe to it, In Cauda Venenum felt like genuine prog; like Opeth was finally getting really good at working in the space that they had been trying to work in since 2011.8 Not only that, I have trouble seeing how people don’t just adore “Hjärtat vet vad handen gör” or “Minnets yta,” which find Opeth flexing muscles that I didn’t know they had. Or “Charlatan” which flexes old muscles in new, unique ways, and feels influential to the direction that The Last Will & Testament went. So, rather than feeling like a modern band making an old style of music, In Cauda Venenum oozes Opeth’s unique voice and charm—and this time, its lyrics weren’t scribbled on toilet paper between guitar takes. That sense of coherence is a feature hard to argue for when records like Watershed contain lyrics like “Do children cry / When mommy dies / And later in their lives / Will they throw their hands to the sky?” or whatever9—is part of what makes it such a strong record. In Cauda Venenum is a great, diverse, and thoughtful record and I think I like it more today than I did in 2019.

El Cuervo

#13. Heritage (2011). Heritage enjoys the dubious honor of being the only Opeth release that I don’t return to at all. Significant volumes of ink have been spilled on the dramatic divestment of death metal on this record, even if it also represented a natural progression onward from the remainder of their discography. Nor do I feel the need to justify my enjoyment of non-metal prog; anyone remotely familiar with my music tastes knows that 70s prog is my musical home ground. Where Heritage falls is in its fragmented songwriting and album flow. One of Opeth’s best qualities is their capacity to write music that feels seamless, even if the transitions are sometimes dramatic. But Heritage introduces variety without harmonization; songs that stand apart from each other and feel less like an album. It sounds more like a compilation of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal. It’s by some margin the weakest Opeth album.

#12. In Cauda Venenum (2019). I stand by the 3.0 I bestowed on In Cauda Venenum. It’s one of the most varied albums in the Opeth discography, perversely resulting in one of their least predictable albums at a late point in their career. But while the bottom entry of this ranking overspills from variety for its own sake, In Cauda Venenum offers a smart harmonization of varied sounds, tones, and instruments. Sadly, although Opeth achieve more than most across multiple long albums, this album suffers the worst for this quality as I find it tough to digest in one entire sitting. In an art form where the purpose is for the listener to experience a collection of songs in a particular order and without breaks, I struggle here. I also find it to be less memorable than other Opeth albums. Ask me to hum a tune from this one and I struggle to do so, which consigns it to this position in my ranking.

#11. Sorceress (2016). Never satisfied standing still, Sorceress sees Opeth striking out from a predecessor marked by its dedication to one particular sound (Pale Communion and 70s prog) while nonetheless remaining a natural successor. Åkerfeldt’s trademark approach to progressive rock here finds new bedfellows in blues and Swedish folk, from the fat grooves to the whimsical flutes. This forges a sound that remains unique in the band’s career, especially when presented with production that evokes the band wallowing in a muddy pool. The bubbly bass, robust drums, and bluesy guitars each rely on a warm, fuzzy tone that’s deeply indebted to (non-progressive) 70s rock, almost reaching the heady haze of stoner music. Sorceress doesn’t enjoy equal quality throughout, with clearer highlights and lowlights than most other Opeth albums, but it undoubtedly improves with repetition. And though it may not be my favorite Opeth release, I’ll be damned if it isn’t their best artwork.

#10. My Arms Your Hearse (1998). I suspect there will only be two real surprises on this ranking. The first is where I placed Blackwater Park (“Why is it not at the top you FUCKING IDIOT”). The second is where I’ve placed My Arms Your Hearse. It’s a low-key fan favorite and regarded by many as a crossing point, from Opeth in their rougher, blacker days to Opeth in their tighter, deathier days. It demonstrates the band smoothing over some of the rawer cracks from their earliest material, and compiling their core fusion of extreme metal and progressive rock into the smart, knotty compositions for which they would achieve acclaim. It’s a clear precursor to the band that would come to define progressive extreme metal. And yet it doesn’t stick with me as much as their competing material. It’s bleak and heavy – arguably their heaviest record overall – but hadn’t quite found that perfect blend of lightness to counter-balance their heaviness. It’s just shy of greatness.

#9. Morningrise (1996). While its predecessor Orchid is no stranger to long songs, Morningrise stretched this young band to its limits with expansive, progressive compositions, including the longest song in their discography: the inimitable highlight titled “Black Rose Immortal.” It’s a record with fabulous moments but most tracks become meandering and drawn-out. And despite the general trend towards softer, balanced production through Opeth’s discography, Morningrise has a thinner, reedier texture than Orchid, positioning it closer to black metal than any other Opeth release. As much as I enjoy black metal it doesn’t quite fit their aesthetic for me, even if this texture lends it a unique feel in the band’s catalog. Despite its shortcomings, I still find Morningrise an entrancing experience; the detailed compositions, lengthy songs, and cyclical leads engender a rich atmosphere that feels unlike anything else. It was also the first indicator that Opeth was a band constantly seeking development and I will always commend progression.

#AMGGoesRanking #AMGRankings #BlogPost #Camel #DeathMetal #Goblin #JethroTull #MorbidAngel #Opeth #ProgressiveDeathMetal #ProgressiveRock #StevenWilson #SwedishMetal

Opeth from Worst to Best: 13-9

By Angry Metal Guy

On the 22nd of November, Opeth will release full-length number fourteen—which we have already reviewed, if you have not seen it. We sometimes “go ranking” here at Angry Metal Guy, but in the case of Opeth that just doesn’t convey the profound influence the band has had or the depth of the personal relationship that I—Angry Metal Guy—have with one of Sweden’s greatest metal and progressive bands. It is therefore in the spirit of the Iron Maiden from Worst to Be(a)st that this particular incarnation of the rankings has been conceived. But this time, I have invited El Cuervo to tag along. Enjoy this trip down memory lane. I look forward to fighting with you in the comments.

Angry Metal Guy

For me, Opeth played a major role in my development as a metalhead, as a fan of extreme metal and prog, and, of course, as a guitar player and songwriter. And they’re probably the band aside from Iron Maiden that I have called my favorite band most frequently throughout my life. While my fandom most certainly peaked around Ghost Reveries—having seen the band at least a half dozen times between their first US show at Milwaukee Metalfest and moving to Sweden myself—they continue to play a major role in how I think about music and how I interpret the modern metal scene.

On a personal note, I have also had the privilege of getting to spend time with the band in various ways. The first Swede I ever spoke Swedish to was Peter Lindgren, though I hardly knew a word at the time. I was recommended the absolutely legendary—to the point of being a cultural joke in Sweden—Jazz på svenska by Mikael Åkerfeldt on a bus one time when we were talking about folk metal. I once explored the basement at The Rave in Milwaukee with Fredrik Åkesson (then in Arch Enemy),1 Eric Hersemann (Gigan, ex-Hate Eternal), and my friend, the late Adam Sagan (Witherfall, White Empress, Circle II Circle, among others) on my birthday before I moved to Sweden. Since being in Sweden, I have become friends with the estimable Martin López of Soen, which I never imagined would happen.

All of this is to say that my connections to Opeth both emotionally and musically are stronger than just about any band in the world. That said, I don’t think that I have as nearly a so idiosyncratic view on Opeth as I did on Iron Maiden when I wrote the Worst to Beast posts. Unlike Iron Maiden, I was part of the metal consensus at the time that Opeth was releasing its most iconic material. I was swept away by Blackwater Park and was bummed when they announced that death metal was for losers before releasing Heritage. I have been on this rollercoaster ride in a way that I wasn’t for Maiden. And I love these guys and all the joy their music has given me over the years. Even as I’ve gotten older and more jaded about Åkerfeldt’s schtick, I can remember a time when I could say in all honesty that I could happily put their entire discography on shuffle and I wouldn’t have encountered a bad song. So, this is going to be an interesting exercise.

As usual, I have created tiers. So let’s start with…

Foregopeth

#13. Heritage (2011). “Heritage is full of great riffs and ideas, but not many very good songs,” I wrote in 2011 as I fearfully gave Heritage a 2/5—disappointing. Not only do I think I probably overrated the album, but I’m no longer afraid that people are going to think I’m just one of those people who think Opeth couldn’t write a good record without growls. So, I’ll be even franker than I was at the time: Heritage is bad. And the frustrations I have with the record are twofold. First, the thing that made Opeth sound like Opeth was the blending of different styles into through-composed tracks that felt utterly seamless. Heritage upended that—though this problem is part of why Watershed ranks as low as it does, too—and instead placed all its bets on an approach to songwriting that feels, nearly 15 years later, just as lazy (or rushed) as it did in 2011. I get this strong sense that Åkerfeldt was using keyboards as an overly expedient way to accomplish what surely took a lot of time on earlier albums; transitioning between disparate ideas that were not written to be played together initially. It’s like Åkerfeldt and Åkesson were just sitting on the studio floor picking riffs out of a hat and then saying to Per: “Yeah, so, just make up something to get us from Point A to Point B.” So while there are, as I said in the original review, excellent parts on Heritage, the whole is so much less than any individual part taken in isolation. Ultimately, Heritage is disjointed. Even if I liked individual songs or moments—I’m a sucker for that Swedish folk feel that they were going for here and have played with since—this album doesn’t stand on its own.2

#12. Sorceress (2016). One of the accusations lodged against critics of post-Watershed Opeth is that anyone who’s critical is just mad that they aren’t playing death metal anymore. While I liked Sorceress quite a bit when it was first released, this album has not aged particularly well in my ears. There are two primary reasons that it’s ended up being a letdown. First, as I pointed out at the time, the production was muddy, and when combined with the band’s “dedication to the blue note,” it ended up feeling like the most intentionally retro album that Opeth has ever released. But second, given that the album is quite angry—and given its ostensible oblique references to Åkerfeldt’s divorce, there’s an angry vibe here—Sorceress is the record where the accusation that critics don’t like it because it’s not death metal feels the most accurate. Moving away from metal makes Newpeth feel toothless at times. While Axe drops double kicks and Åkerfeldt drops Åkeriffs that seem at times reminiscent of the heavier material from Deliverance or Ghost Reveries, they just don’t usually punch through. When the band cranks up the intensity, that dog is all bark and has no bite whatsoever. With that in mind, I would probably downgrade this from very good to good, as I still enjoy it. And when these guys hit peaks—I like “Sorceress” quite a bit, but the real highlight for me is “Chrysalis”—I still enjoy this album. The songwriting is enjoyable, but it doesn’t quite carry with it those qualities that make the best Opeth records the best.

#11. Watershed (2008). Watershed marks the first time that I disliked an Opeth album. While Ghost Reveries took me time to appreciate, Watershed was a record that it has taken me nearly 15 years to come to appreciate. I want to take you back to 2006 when Opeth was on Gigantour. Ghost Reveries had been a huge breakout hit for Roadrunner and Opeth toured like crazy. A friend of mine and I had gone to see Gigantour in Milwaukee and had been given passes by then-guitarist Peter Lindgren. I asked how they were doing, and he told me that they had been touring like crazy, that the band was super tired, and that their label had been pressuring them to get into the studio directly after Gigantour was going to end. He told me that they weren’t ready at all, that they’d had only a couple weeks home, and that there was no way they were going to be able to produce something good with that kind of pressure. Watershed was a spring release in 2008, Opeth played its final show of the Ghost Reveries tour in Italy on the 18th of December, 2006. That means that the Watershed was likely finished in January of 2008,3 giving them less than a one-year turnaround after a grueling schedule in 2005 and 2006, where they played nearly 230 live dates. And I think you can hear it on Watershed.

Watershed sounds (to this day) like a record that was written and produced by a very, very tired Mikael Åkerfeldt. Peter Lindgren, unsurprisingly, left the band in May of 2007, leading to Fredrik Åkesson’s debut on this album. As well, Martin Axenrot joined on drums and despite having played in the band since 2006, had not yet caught up to Lopez’s superb groove and feel. And Watershed sounds rushed. This is the most obvious in the fact that it is loaded with uninteresting, jarring transitions—which I generously referred to as Frippism’s in my review of Sorceress, but which I never found to be as mad or well-conceived as King Crimson. Between the jarring transitions, the studio tricks,4 and the sense that there was just a lack of enthusiasm for death metal throughout, I never understood why Watershed is considered by some Opeth fans to be such a masterpiece. When I initially bought the album, the cover version of “Den ständiga resan” was the song I liked the most. With time, I have softened on Watershed. There are moments of greatness scattered throughout, “Porcelain Heart” was a good single—and I love the clean vocal harmonies before the classic melancholic solo and the acoustic part—and “Burden” was a cock rock song, but it was a good one. I’ve often felt that with another six or nine months to percolate, Watershed would have been a better record.

Mediopeth

#10. Deliverance (2002). It should come as no surprise that Deliverance is now understood to be an album where Opeth was riling in deep drama. Following the huge breakthrough of Blackwater Park, they were on a tight schedule and Åkerfeldt—in an act of supreme hubris—decided he was going to write not one, but two albums. And while that was a choice he could’ve made, it wasn’t a choice he had to make, especially given the kind of quick turnaround that they were on. On top of that, as the story goes, they entered the studio with essentially nothing ready to go. What transpired was an absolute nightmare of a recording session that would wound the band deeply and I have understood from what has been written in other places that it was sort of the beginning of the end of the band’s most iconic lineup.

And yet, Deliverance—while displaying some chinks in the armor for the first time in the band’s career—was still an absolutely wonderful, enjoyable success.5 Spawning classics like the title track—which makes fans squeal like pigs every time Opeth breaks it out—and “Master’s Apprentices,” which in retrospect feels like a preview of the style that Ghost Reveries would perfect, Deliverance was a record that reeked of greatness even when it was the result of one of the most absurd Night before the Test Cram Sessions that the world has ever seen. Being the worst of the band’s best material is a bit like playing in the Champions League,6 no one should doubt that you’re great. Shoutout to the clean part and the melodic solos in “By the Pain I See in Others,” I see you.

#9. In Cauda Venenum (2019). While not Oldpeth, In Cauda Venenum is a tremendous and interesting album of its own accord. Sure, in some ways, it continued the Sorceress journey toward feeling like a band out of time—lots of blues scales and that Bill Ward swing showing up throughout (“De närmast sörjande”). And yet, In Cauda Venenum is just such a thoughtful and fun record. And yes, I suppose that part of that has to do with the fact that I speak Swedish and so I was able to be charmed by the old interviews with Swedish children about God and death, but that’s reductive.7 The reality is that while Sorceress had a hard rock vibe to it, In Cauda Venenum felt like genuine prog; like Opeth was finally getting really good at working in the space that they had been trying to work in since 2011.8 Not only that, I have trouble seeing how people don’t just adore “Hjärtat vet vad handen gör” or “Minnets yta,” which find Opeth flexing muscles that I didn’t know they had. Or “Charlatan” which flexes old muscles in new, unique ways, and feels influential to the direction that The Last Will & Testament went. So, rather than feeling like a modern band making an old style of music, In Cauda Venenum oozes Opeth’s unique voice and charm—and this time, its lyrics weren’t scribbled on toilet paper between guitar takes. That sense of coherence is a feature hard to argue for when records like Watershed contain lyrics like “Do children cry / When mommy dies / And later in their lives / Will they throw their hands to the sky?” or whatever9—is part of what makes it such a strong record. In Cauda Venenum is a great, diverse, and thoughtful record and I think I like it more today than I did in 2019.

El Cuervo

#13. Heritage (2011). Heritage enjoys the dubious honor of being the only Opeth release that I don’t return to at all. Significant volumes of ink have been spilled on the dramatic divestment of death metal on this record, even if it also represented a natural progression onward from the remainder of their discography. Nor do I feel the need to justify my enjoyment of non-metal prog; anyone remotely familiar with my music tastes knows that 70s prog is my musical home ground. Where Heritage falls is in its fragmented songwriting and album flow. One of Opeth’s best qualities is their capacity to write music that feels seamless, even if the transitions are sometimes dramatic. But Heritage introduces variety without harmonization; songs that stand apart from each other and feel less like an album. It sounds more like a compilation of interesting but perverse musical ideas deliberately directed at fans expecting more death metal. It’s by some margin the weakest Opeth album.

#12. In Cauda Venenum (2019). I stand by the 3.0 I bestowed on In Cauda Venenum. It’s one of the most varied albums in the Opeth discography, perversely resulting in one of their least predictable albums at a late point in their career. But while the bottom entry of this ranking overspills from variety for its own sake, In Cauda Venenum offers a smart harmonization of varied sounds, tones, and instruments. Sadly, although Opeth achieve more than most across multiple long albums, this album suffers the worst for this quality as I find it tough to digest in one entire sitting. In an art form where the purpose is for the listener to experience a collection of songs in a particular order and without breaks, I struggle here. I also find it to be less memorable than other Opeth albums. Ask me to hum a tune from this one and I struggle to do so, which consigns it to this position in my ranking.

#11. Sorceress (2016). Never satisfied standing still, Sorceress sees Opeth striking out from a predecessor marked by its dedication to one particular sound (Pale Communion and 70s prog) while nonetheless remaining a natural successor. Åkerfeldt’s trademark approach to progressive rock here finds new bedfellows in blues and Swedish folk, from the fat grooves to the whimsical flutes. This forges a sound that remains unique in the band’s career, especially when presented with production that evokes the band wallowing in a muddy pool. The bubbly bass, robust drums, and bluesy guitars each rely on a warm, fuzzy tone that’s deeply indebted to (non-progressive) 70s rock, almost reaching the heady haze of stoner music. Sorceress doesn’t enjoy equal quality throughout, with clearer highlights and lowlights than most other Opeth albums, but it undoubtedly improves with repetition. And though it may not be my favorite Opeth release, I’ll be damned if it isn’t their best artwork.

#10. My Arms Your Hearse (1998). I suspect there will only be two real surprises on this ranking. The first is where I placed Blackwater Park (“Why is it not at the top you FUCKING IDIOT”). The second is where I’ve placed My Arms Your Hearse. It’s a low-key fan favorite and regarded by many as a crossing point, from Opeth in their rougher, blacker days to Opeth in their tighter, deathier days. It demonstrates the band smoothing over some of the rawer cracks from their earliest material, and compiling their core fusion of extreme metal and progressive rock into the smart, knotty compositions for which they would achieve acclaim. It’s a clear precursor to the band that would come to define progressive extreme metal. And yet it doesn’t stick with me as much as their competing material. It’s bleak and heavy – arguably their heaviest record overall – but hadn’t quite found that perfect blend of lightness to counter-balance their heaviness. It’s just shy of greatness.

#9. Morningrise (1996). While its predecessor Orchid is no stranger to long songs, Morningrise stretched this young band to its limits with expansive, progressive compositions, including the longest song in their discography: the inimitable highlight titled “Black Rose Immortal.” It’s a record with fabulous moments but most tracks become meandering and drawn-out. And despite the general trend towards softer, balanced production through Opeth’s discography, Morningrise has a thinner, reedier texture than Orchid, positioning it closer to black metal than any other Opeth release. As much as I enjoy black metal it doesn’t quite fit their aesthetic for me, even if this texture lends it a unique feel in the band’s catalog. Despite its shortcomings, I still find Morningrise an entrancing experience; the detailed compositions, lengthy songs, and cyclical leads engender a rich atmosphere that feels unlike anything else. It was also the first indicator that Opeth was a band constantly seeking development and I will always commend progression.

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STEVEN WILSON Struggled To Believe He Wasn't The One Singing On Some AI-Created Songs: "This Is Uncanny, Almost Surreal"

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Letztes Jahr habe ich jemandem auf der #Spiel22 zum tollen T-Shirt und Musikgeschmack gratuliert, weil er ein Raven T-Shirt trug.

Heute habe ich das gleiche bekommen, für meinen Raven Hoodie.

#StevenWilson #Spiel23

Letztes Jahr habe ich jemandem auf der #Spiel22 zum tollen T-Shirt und Musikgeschmack gratuliert, weil er ein Raven T-Shirt trug.

Heute habe ich das gleiche bekommen, für meinen Raven Hoodie.

#StevenWilson #Spiel23