Review Summary: To come within the limits.
Katatonia have always been an evocative band. Time and time again their music has encapsulated the thoughts and emotions we all recede into when our minds decide to set their suns, expelling us of warmth and light. If Katatonia’s discography were equated to an individual going through this nocturnal passage, their struggle would be considered chronic, like an eternal burden. Yet these Swedes have taken said burden and made it their life-flow. The fact they’ve managed to keep this formula going for 23 years without becoming worn or decrepit is a testament to their sheer versatility. It’s this consistency, which transcends stylistic transformations, that has made Katatonia such an endearing band. No matter what direction they take, their spiritual essence persists and remains an integral part of their music.
The Fall of Hearts, a considerable departure from
Dead End Kings, might just be the band’s most matured release to date. There’s an air of composure to the whole affair, as if the four years between albums have allowed the band to ruminate as a whole. In this,
The Fall of Hearts could be described as marinated; the present influences are not only more varied than previous albums, they also feel more natural, allowing the album to unfold in an organic manner. Doom and alternative combine on “Sanction” to create a reservedly ominous track, while the Opeth-inspired “Serac” swaps alternative with progressive, leading to one of Katatonia’s more ambitious tracks. Meanwhile, ballads “Old Heart Falls” and “Decima” (the Roman goddess of childbirth) act as back-to-back siblings, with the former accounting graves and old, vaporous love before yielding to the latter’s appropriately delicate lines, such as being “born under a troubled sign.” Katatonia may as well be referring to themselves here, especially when considered with this subsequent passage:
Map of nowhere is in my hand
The roads are blurred
Sojourners land
So take however long you want
But don’t forget my love
You’ve pledged yourself to come along
Even outside of the album’s slower moments--which are plentiful,
The Fall of Hearts doesn’t come off as dire as its predecessor often did. Lyrics are still written in a cryptic (though personal) sense, but somewhere between the ostensibly passive production and Jonas Renkse’s transparent vocals,
The Fall of Hearts resides in a position that’s neither distant nor engaged. At least, not fully. The album does occasion to blast us with blazes of fire, such as the sharp eruptions on “Serein” and “Last Song Before the Fade,” more specifically, but even they are soon quelled by the moments which follow. And yet, despite the many twists and turns found throughout, Katatonia maintain focus and close the gaps between songs with finesse. When “Shifts” announces its presence with the wail of a siren only to fade into the tragic piano notes which lead its surreal melancholia, one can’t help but be strangely comfortable with the transition.
Playing with contrast has long been one of Katatonia’s defining specialties, often through how they construct individual tracks and let them unfold.
The Fall of Hearts continues this tradition, right down to the borderline feeble guitar break in “Last Song Before the Fade.” However, the effect of contrast from song to song has seldom felt as smooth as it does here. We could easily look at the in-and-out personalities of “Sanction” and “Serac,” or the slow building on “Residual” and call it a day, but the dynamic goes further than that. Just like the aforementioned example with “Shifts,” the rest of the album plays out in a way that will keep listeners’ ears glued to their headphones (or raised to their speakers) with attention and curiosity. To that end, “Takeover” is the ultimate stage-setter with its unsuspecting intro yielding to a much wilder soundscape, building and retreading in ways that will catch long-time fans off-guard. The track’s bizarre nature serves as an act of preparation for the journey ahead, a journey full of change, variety, substance and an overall, underlying familiarity.
Though
The Fall of Hearts doesn’t quite reinvent the wheel for Katatonia, it does more than just fine-tune their music. The sense of exploration is definitely perceptible, and even with a slab of decidedly safe tracks, ambition is handed out with just as much generosity. It’s during these moments that
The Fall of Hearts truly shines. If this is Katatonia pitching a new potential direction for their music, then the future may be surprisingly bright for them. Of course, knowing these Swedes, that bright future will be depicted with themes of aversion, reluctance, pain and the most fleeting sense of hope. And truth be told, most of us wouldn’t have it any other way.
