Review Summary: Opeth’s inheritance is mixed.
In order to identify the last time death metal growls were truly relevant in an Opeth record we’d have to wind the clock back sixteen years. Yep,
Watershed was the last time death metal fans really rejoiced at the prospect of Opeth making heavy music, the band’s legacy wrapped up in the progressive steps between Mikael Åkerfeldt’s melodious croons and bellowing growls. Hell, even the music matched! There were riffs and heavy drum parts and a bass guitar that even noodled harder than a packet of dry hokkien. Still, a quick dive into this powerhouse of a metal band would unveil another four records filled with varying degrees of dad-worshipping, Rush-powered, psychedelic prog rock that pulled on the seventies heartstring of maybe modernising the past. Sure, the albums from
Heritage up til now became a talking point—albeit for how far apart the band’s two musical eras became. So now that Opeth have started “making metal” again, do we forgo the whole prog-rock era? Perhaps we don’t mention how absent the growls have been? Nah. It’s 2024! We get to talk about whatever we like. Opeth may have found a return to the style that made them relevant in almost all extreme metal discussions, but as much as
The Last Will and Testament is the record fans have been crying for, it’s also incredibly…lacking.
That doesn’t really track with anything fans really know about Opeth. Even with the style change, Opeth music has typically been
interesting. Despite being a concept album (a first since
Still Life in 1999),
The Last Will and Testament is musically plain…a combination of the noodle prog and the vintage Åkerfeldt-death metal executed as if going through the motions. Dare I say it, but a “return to form”, this is not. It simply
is what it
is. A disjointed shamble of a record so eager to meld the band’s heavier past with the smoother edges of Opeth’s past four albums.
The Last Will and Testament falters as much as it lifts, stagnates as far as it identifies growth and even disappoints even as it gives longtime fans exactly what they’ve been begging for. Turns out, even bringing back the death metal isn’t enough to turn Opeth-by-numbers into something remarkable. This sounds completely harsh, but the album’s shortcomings aren’t due to the concept. I’d argue that’s the most interesting part of the group’s 2024 release. At the album’s core is a tale of passing on the estate of a wealthy figure, complete with a villainous, self-serving lawyer and a combative patriarchal figure—a story that is divided into several parts (
paragraphs) and an additional conclusion; one could argue that
The Last Will and Testament could make one hell of a short novel or even a robust, dark play.
Paragraph One launches quickly into the eerie melodies and jaunted rhythms that have dominated the band’s tracks over the last few decades. Understandably, this combination sounds unmistakably “Opeth-ian” and Åkerfeldt’s growls sound as sinister, if not more radio-friendly as he did circa
Blackwater Park. Unfortunately, it’s also clear that Opeth’s climes are muddied by the band’s ability to meld all its eras together. While narrating the characters' different parts, the band’s dichotomy feels rushed, if not just pushed together. A blight, rather than the seamless storytelling it should be.
Paragraph Two is a trajectory shifter. A more brutal edge takes hold of the group’s signature winding melodies, and the dissonance is rather immaculate. I’d be lying if this second track didn’t hit harder than it had any right to. In fact, for a track post-
Sorceress,
Paragraph Two defies the rest of the record by being one of the most coherent tracks. Downright infectious grooves dominate the track, charging riffs bolster the “make Opeth metal again” schtick. After this, the album begins to falter. I can’t help but feel like this is the perfect follow-on from
In Cauda Venenum complete with growls…
While Opeth’s newest offering is clearly stronger in its first half, it’s not all despair as
The Last Will and Testament trials off to a dramatic, melodious conclusion.
A Story Never Told shines a light on some of the most impactful cleans since
Damnation. The track slowly resolves the album’s plot, while taking directional cue from the likes of The Flower Kings—restoring balance to the premise and wraps
The Last Will and Testament up contextually. It’s a shame, really, that Opeth couldn’t put a concept record on hold for a minute and simply focus on bringing their eras together in an accessible, coherent package. Overall, these tracks seem too busy, too loaded encompassing a need to bridge all these characters together, forcing the parts until they “fit”. Singularily, these tracks
could potentially scratch a fan’s itch for heavy Opeth…but it would simply be easier to put on
anything that predates
Heritage.
The Last Will and Testament is slickly produced, conceptually sound and stronger in its first half. Unfortunately, it lacks an overall aesthetic that would see this record reach the accolades of
Blackwater Park,
Watershed or even
Heritage while dabbling in those clear elements. Not that Opeth was expected to bridge the gaps between past and present and somehow transcend some of the greatest accomplishments in heavy music. Most of
The Last Will and Testament’s issues are in consistency (or lack thereof), while lacking the accessibility to really draw in a listener. Still, its making is a testament to a group of musicians that continue to push their own boundaries, stay true to their roots and proudly wear creative nuance on their collective sleeves. For what it’s worth
The Last Will and Testament is a huge step for Opeth. The return to the band’s death metal roots heralds a new era within the group’s storied discography. Hopefully in a few years we can once again rejoice in an album that’s consistently great.
