Metal
Writer:
Eric Baule
Five years of waiting, with an appetiser along the way in the form of a solo soundtrack by Mr. Åkerfeldt (“Clark”), and three studio albums from White Stones (Martin Mendez’s side project), have built up genuine anticipation for Opeth’s new studio outing.
When news broke of the return to growled vocals, a lot of us thought we’d be reuniting with the band’s old sound and concept, but “The Last Will and Testament” still sounds like their recent albums: organic and vintage. It’s a cinematic journey, more symphonic than ever, packed with corners full of a thousand details, and ultimately a work that demands several listens to be properly digested and absorbed. Personally, this record has put me to the test, pushing me to a kind of limit with the listening journey it lays out, and I’ll list below the feelings the whole work gives off on first listen, in my view: unease, urgency, baroque excess, darkness, mystery, menace, and malice. The closing track (“A Story Never Told”) thankfully brings a fantastic peace and an emotional light that are already trademarks of the band.
There are details worth highlighting for how well they land, such as the vocal variety across the register, in the production, and the fact that the whole band recorded vocals this time. Ian Anderson’s contribution is simply magical, the orchestrations are jaw-dropping (Åkerfeldt even ventures into Mellotron territory!), and both the basslines and the guitar riffs, blending scales with exotic, Arabic or Hindustani sonorities, bring in some genuinely complex dynamics and mystical airs. At times it feels like a soundtrack created by direct disciples of Camel, Magma, and other bands from the darkest corners of seventies progressive and symphonic rock, but Opeth take that foundation somewhere renewed and evolved. I’ve picked up on passages in the purest Morricone style, though that might just be me. The only “gripes” I have are the overly simple track titles (we already know it’s a concept album built around the reading of a will, delivered paragraph by paragraph), and the fact that the lyrics for the final track aren’t included in the booklet (why?!). As a journey through family tensions and the interests stirred up by an inheritance, this is an accomplished mirror reflecting all of that and much more. A puzzle that undoubtedly rewards repeat listens, and, on top of that, a fantastic work free of labels, save for one: Progressive Music, with a capital P and M.