Review Summary: Haven sees Kamelot continue their walk on the right path after previous stumbles, but they never leap ahead to re-lead the pack.
Kamelot have exhibited a minor case of stylistic discord for the past decade. Even before the leave of vocalist extraordinaire Roy Khan, the group were clearly going through unenthused motions between
Ghost Opera and
Poetry for the Poisoned . Then Swedish powerhouse Tommy Keravik (Seventh Wonder) jumped onboard, finding a modest degree of comfort on 2012's
Silverthorn. His outing could be argued as both better and worse than what one might expect; he fit the formula well enough without bringing the true majesty of either Seventh Wonder Khan-era Kamelot out. Now eyes rest on
Haven for what direction the band are bound for.
Things are immediately and consistently pleasing, with the first half establishing the various shades
Haven employs. "Fallen Star" and "Veil of Elysium" both showcase a melodic-on-melancholic angle that will be familiar to longtime fans. However, what makes these (and all other) moments on
Haven feel fresh in their familiarity is the fact Kamelot haven't sounded this comfortable and lively for a long time.
Silverthorn didn't necessarily lack high points, but it had an overall compressed feeling, like it had a restraining order.
Haven isn't so hindered, which primarily shows thanks to the production, this time realizing and enhancing Kamelot's long-lost vigor. No one will claim Haven as the next
Black Halo (or even
Epica), but this is easily the catchiest Kamelot have been in over a decade.
Take the intoxicating "Insomnia," for instance; first impressions are modest, but it quickly turns into a repeat button's newfound lover. This is also one of the album's heavier moments, alongside the frantic "Revolution" and crescendoing "Liar Liar (Wasteland Monarchy)." A similar structure adorns "Under Grey Skies," one of two included ballads, which is key to its benefit. Another factor is the expected inclusion of female vocals (this time Charlotte Wessels of Delain) and a subtle contribution from Troy Donockley (Nightwish).
Silverthorn's "Song for Jolee," by comparison, was a troublesome drag comparable to waiting in line at an amusement park.
Less emphasized, however, is the air of progression
Silverthorn neared suggesting for the future. "Citizen Zero" rings similar to "Prodigal Son" with its dark atmosphere and stiffly played chorus. It reminds us of
Silverthorn's burdening shortcomings, all while pointing to
Poetry for the Poisoned's grievances. Some listener's may appreciate it after multiple listens, yet both exemplify a lack of instant gratification that Kamelot are routinely known for. There's potential in running with a more challenging sound and structure, but at this point it'd be at the expense of numerous fans.
This brings us to the predicament
Haven sees Kamelot in as a whole: a lack of evolution. Improvements to the production (highs have room to shine again) and a subsequent sense of freedom are welcome, but these are mere spices sprinkled atop an undercooked steak.
Silverthorn wasn't a "fun" album in the way Khan-era Kamelot was, but there was always a lingering sense of newfound ambition.
Haven, conversely, favors tradition, which leads to many enjoyable moments, yet they typically flatten out when viewed objectively.
The biggest pressing concern for Kamelot has become how much staying power they'll have if they continue their current path.
Silverthorn saw them tiptoe into a different-yet-familiar body of water;
Haven demonstrates that they've regained comfort, now they just need to find the current and glide with it in grace.
