“Watershed” is a terrible name for an album. Listeners will almost immediately expect either some sort of radical departure from the artists’ catalogue or a full re-imagining of their sound, so even if the album is enjoyable it may be viewed as a disappointment simply because expectations were skewed. It is then much more difficult to critique an album such as Opeth’s “Watershed,” the band’s ninth studio album in 13 years, if only because what the listener expects and what the listener perceives are two completely different reactions.
Opeth’s core sound, dark progressive death metal interspersed with sections of soft acoustic beauty, mystique, and bluesy guitar work, has remained relatively unchanged over the band’s tenure. In recent years, however, lead compositional mastermind Mikael Akerfeldt has indulged his interest in 70’s progressive rock, yet this has resulted in the band’s trademark experimental, heavy sound becoming somewhat diluted and softened, especially on 2005’s “Ghost Reveries.”
There is certainly nothing wrong with a metal band playing softer music; in fact, Opeth are undoubtedly the masters of juxtaposing heavy and light playing, weaving a tapestry of monumental, brutal, and beautiful sounds together into ten-minute masterworks. It is discerning, however, to hear a band so clearly adept at playing heavily fall into the pitfall of grasping for mainstream exposure. By all means, Opeth should have a rather large fan base, especially in the underground metal community, but by streamlining their material somewhat, they risk alienating their old fans.
2008’s “Watershed,” then, may prove to be a rather important album in the band’s discography, if for no other reason than it shows Opeth playing music for themselves and indulging in their own interests as opposed to appeasing old-school listeners. The first track, the beautiful “Coil,” is a prime example of this. Mikael’s opening vocal melody is unabashedly singable and catchy, and doesn’t quite sound like anything else the band has written. Unfortunately, the pristine atmosphere of the first minute or so is marred by an incompetent female vocalist, who takes over the second half of the song yet can’t quite sing with the same power as Akerfeldt.
“Heir Apparent” is the obvious centerpiece of the album; immediately brutal, rocking, and heavy, it exhibits everything great about the classic Opeth sound without, somewhat unfortunately, any particularly resonating guitar or vocal licks. Regardless, the driving force of Mikael’s booming growls is a real treat for long time fans who may have been put off by the relatively soft quality of “Ghost Reveries.” The outro is pure, classic Opeth and a real treat for any metalhead.
With “The Lotus Eater,” Opeth explore new sonic territory, and the results are a mixed bag. This song is all about atmosphere, yet at times the melody and structure of the piece suffer at the hands of this technique. Additionally, the inclusion of a Dream Theater-esque keyboard groove, completely out of place in the song, was an incredibly poor decision by the band. Opeth have always maintained an air of subtlety and intrigue that Dream Theater haven’t been able to match in a decade, yet this little slip into prog-metal wankery is extremely disquieting. Regardless, some of the album’s best vocal melodies are hidden within, and Akerfeldt’s ability to switch between growls and clean vocals is admirable (though I still suspect the two vocal lines were recorded separately).
And then there’s “Burden,” which sounds like Opeth’s attempt at a Kansas tribute tune. The opening vocal melody is actually rather original; in fact, Akerfeldt’s clean vocals have never quite sounded better than on this record, and even when the melodies miss, his incredibly clean and powerful delivery is able to work wonders. Unfortunately, “Burden” presents a problem that has persisted in Opeth’s discography for the last half-decade: overlong, “soft” songs containing no climax or hint of metal. Opeth are at their best when they bridge the gap between progressive metal, death metal, and progressive rock, so removing two of these elements severely dampers their appeal.
This doesn’t mean that “Burden” isn’t enjoyable; it is in fact a rather listenable and darkly interesting tune. One does wish, however, that the progressive style had been implemented in conjunction with the band’s heavier side, not against it (and the inclusion of a dreadful Hammond organ solo does not help). The severely out-of-tune acoustic guitar outro, no doubt recorded purposefully, is actually physically painful to listen to.
“Porcelain Heart” is the single from the album, which is odd considering the tune lasts for eight minutes and contains no discernible chorus, save for a droll “Ah-Ah-Ah” theme repeated ad nausea. The transitions between light and dark are particularly effective here, yet the complete absence of Akerfeldt’s growls dampers the impact. A few exciting drum fills, courtesy of new studio drummer Martin Axenrot, are powerful and technical despite sounding slightly out of place, though he proves a worthy successor to previous percussionist Martin Lopez.
“Hessian Peel” is the other heavy-hitter of the disc, and at nearly twelve minutes it contains almost everything one would expect from a typical Opeth epic. Compositionally the song is all over the place, with the various sections fighting to flow together smoothly and nearly succeeding. Despite its choppy nature, the song maintains a powerful drive and purpose throughout, which is more than can be said for the previous two (shorter) tracks.
The closer, “Hex Omega,” is the oddest track on the album. After an unassuming metal riff, the song devolves into what sounds like modern-day Porcupine Tree, particularly the vocals and ambience of the verses. Porcupine Tree frontman Steven Wilson and Akerfeldt are renown friends, and countless times before the two have either collaborated or borrowed ideas from one another (Wilson produced Opeth’s classic album “Blackwater Park” in 2001), yet never before has either band’s influence been so readily portrayed. The song’s boring harmonic movement threatens to ruin the vibe, but the sense of dark atmosphere that pervades the composition pulls the listener in, ending the album on a strong, if anticlimactic, note.
So, is “Watershed” a bad album? Hardly. When Opeth rock out and bring the metal, the results are staggering and among the strongest music currently in the scene, while the more wayward, experimental nature of some of the tracks, particularly “The Lotus Eaters” and “Hex Omega,” is only minimally detrimental to the album. Technically speaking, Akerfeldt and company still have some awesome chops, yet many of the songs lack that one defining hook to make them truly classic tracks among Opeth’s 13-year oeuvre. Fortunately, every track seems to age extremely well with repeated listening, as the slightly stripped down nature of the riffs and composition appear to make more sense.
All of which almost makes “Watershed” live up to its name; while the music contained within can hardly be seen as a drastic departure save for a few radical inclusions here and there, fan reaction is almost certainly going to be more divided than ever before. The keyboards have been thankfully toned down quite a bit since “Ghost Reveries,” yet the introduction of two new members, guitarist Fredrik Akesson and Axenrot, has still left many fans in unwarranted disarray.
While the record may never be held in the same regard as such as classics as 1999’s “Still Life” and 1997’s “My Arms, Your Hearse,” “Watershed” will almost certainly be remembered as one of the most thoroughly original and difficult records of Opeth’s discography. What it lacks in melody, resonance, and structure, it almost makes up for with daring, experimentation, and intrigue, not to mention the band’s trademark dark and beautiful atmosphere. Any open-minded music fan will find plenty to enjoy, while longtime Opeth fans would do well to listen with open ears and an open mind.
