Review Summary: After spending a decade refining their prog rock chops, Opeth finally inject some death metal elements back into their sound, resulting in their most eclectic and exciting release in years. Unfortunately, it ends with a whimper.
I feel like a lot of people have misunderstood the significance of the return of Opeth’s death growls, including Mikael Åkerfeldt himself. He talks about it cynically in interviews, saying that it feels like the growls are all anybody ever cared about in the band’s music. And it seems like this is a little bit true, at least for some fans; for a lot of people, the first reaction to hearing “Paragraph 1” was to proclaim that Opeth is “finally back”, as if the albums from
Heritage through
In Cauda Venenum somehow didn’t count. I have to admit, even my first reaction to the track was something along those lines. But taking a step back and thinking about it, I don’t think it was ever just the growls themselves. Rather, it was the dynamic variety and eclecticism that came from their inclusion; it was the contrast between harsh and clean vocals, distorted, clean, and acoustic guitars, and the unpredictable, dramatic journeys that the band’s songs would take us on, using all of these tools in their toolbox. And that’s the crux of the matter, I think; by abandoning the growls, and the metal elements in general, Opeth were limiting the tools at their disposal, placing restrictions on what their music could be.
Of course this resulted in music that a lot of people found less interesting; there was simply less to it, and perennially popular albums like
Blackwater Park and
Ghost Reveries would always feel deeper and richer by comparison to the newer material.
That doesn’t mean that the pure prog rock albums were a waste of time for Opeth; far from it. They spent those albums refining their new sound and developing technical chops that they didn’t have before. Åkerfeldt’s clean vocals developed a whole new dynamic range all their own, as much as I feel that he often oversang a bit as a result; the instrumental work became jazzier, more intricate, more free-form in a way that we ironically hadn’t heard since the earliest days of
Orchid and
Morningrise. Remember Johan de Farfalla’s amazing melodic basslines that Åkerfeldt infamously hated, firing him by the time
My Arms, Your Hearse came around? Farfalla would be having a field day on these newer albums; funny how these things work out. My point is that by limiting themselves to playing pure prog rock, Opeth have challenged themselves to grow as musicians, reaching into entirely new sonic territory that they would have previously paved over with metal riffs and growls.
And now, as they add those metal elements back into the fold, Opeth now have more tools in their toolbox than ever.
The Last Will and Testament is probably the most eclectic album the band has ever made, at least from moment to moment. Softer prog rock sections contrast with hard rock, jazz, classical and folk influences, and yes, metal sections, all employed purposefully to create a wildly unpredictable and exciting listening experience. Upon hearing the growls, some may be tempted to use the phrase “return to form”, but what form are they referring to exactly? This album sounds nothing like
Blackwater Park or even
Ghost Reveries; the closest thing I can compare it to would be something in between
Watershed and
Heritage, with emphasis on unpredictability, experimentation, and a dark, claustrophobic atmosphere combined with a healthy spoonful of classic prog rock cheese. Sorry, Oldpeth fans, but if you absolutely hate that cheesy classic prog rock sound, you might just be lukewarm on this album; your mileage may vary. But if you’ve found something to appreciate in most or all of their post-
Watershed output, you’re probably going to be pleasantly surprised by the dynamic variety and sheer creativity on display here.
But unfortunately, not all is sunshine and roses for this album, at least not for me. My biggest gripe with it, and the thing holding back my rating quite severely, is that it has the most boring and anticlimactic ending of any album in the band’s entire discography. “A Story Never Told” is a soft prog rock ballad that’s about as generic as it gets. As we can expect from such a seasoned band, it’s well-executed and paced, but the material itself is unbelievably dull. It’s sort of like “Faith in Others”, but that song was a nice bit of variety on an otherwise plain album, but this song just sticks out like a sore thumb. I was hoping for it to suddenly move in a new direction towards the end, maybe in a “Hessian Peel” sort of way, but it never came; this ending is as generic and predictable as it gets, which is frankly shocking for an album that’s otherwise so original and fresh, even by Opeth’s lofty standards. “Paragraph 7” doesn’t help things much either; even if we were to pretend that “A Story Never Told” is a bonus track and not part of the main body of the album, “Paragraph 7” also just kind of... ends. The album has all of this creativity and eclecticism and variety, and a sense of forward momentum that we haven’t heard since at least
Heritage, but Åkerfeldt and company seem to just not know where to take it all as the album reaches its conclusion, which is a huge, baffling shame. We can only hope that the next album corrects these pacing issues, keeping this new, inspired style while delivering a more consistent overall structure more along the lines of
In Cauda Venenum, which, despite its length, was remarkably well balanced as a listening experience.
So is Opeth back? No; this is just the next step in their evolution, and I have to say, it’s an extremely exciting and promising one. It feels like after a decade of only looking to the future, the band has finally decided to reopen their old toolbox, and they’ve realized that some of those old tools can still be pretty useful in 2024 to tell the sorts of musical stories they want to tell. Opeth has always been a prog rock band with some death metal elements added in for seasoning; that’s never been more apparent than it is now. But that seasoning is crucially important; it’s what put them on the map and made them the biggest progressive death metal band in the world, for whatever that’s worth. It’s good to see them finally acknowledging this without cynically caving to fan demands and making a rehash of
Blackwater Park that would never come close to living up to the original. Opeth are not “back” but they do feel a little more whole, a little more honest with themselves, and a little more accepting of where they came from, and despite some puzzling setbacks on this album, we may yet see Opeth realize the most complete and true version of themselves we’ve ever heard.
