Review Summary: Opeth stops trying to please everybody, and in doing so, finally takes a step forward.
The 2010s have been an extremely confusing decade for Opeth fans. The band's first release of the decade,
Heritage, was the band's first entry in their supposed transition to the sound that frontman Akerfeldt has supposedly always been wanting to achieve since the band's inception. Unfortunately, rather than taking the 70s influences and making something new out of them, the album just felt like Akerfeldt jerking off to his favourite King Crimson and Camel albums for some 50ish minutes, resulting in a very bi-polar album riddled with indecisiveness, unexciting riffs, anti-climaxes and a set of confusing intros and outros that represented just how retrograde the affair was, all topped off with a set of eye-rolling lyrics ("Gaaawwwwddd is deeeeaaaaaaddd") that felt like a deliberate parody of 70s prog rather than a repectful homage. 2014's
Pale Communion was more or less a continuation of the sound, and surprisingly ended up faring better, making sure to actually use the influences in favour of songwriting, albeit still suffering from some of the ADHD that riddled its predecessor. Sadly, it was back to square one with 2016's
Sorceress, which, to its credit, attempted to modernize these influences, but instead just felt yet again like another "dadcore" album. And this downfall was more than just any band entering the obligatory "weird phase" of their career; the fanbase was only further split down the middle with every album, and now we're at the point where the release of a new Opeth album, something that used to rev up the metal community with tons of excitment, is now little other than a non-event to all but the band's most devoted.
It's important to note this, because it paints a perfect picture of where the band is currently at with one year left of the decade, and one album left to contribute with
In Cauda Venenum, the latest entry in their "70s prog rules, maaaaannn" adventure. The album's announcement promised an intriguing gimmick: not one but
two editions of the album, one in their usual English, and another being in their native tongue of Swedish. Some editions of the album are selling even both, apparently- an interesting marketing tactic, especially when you consider that the majority of music nowadays is released in English. This announcement was the first sign of Mikael Akerfeldt seemingly not really caring at all what the band's original fanbase thinks anymore. And nor should he, really- the band have been around long enough for such a mindset not to harm the quality of their songwriting. And indeed, this does reflect in a lot of the songs- much of the ADHD that riddled the 3 albums that came before is absent here, with the songs no longer trying to find a middle ground between new, "prog" Opeth and pre-
Heritage Opeth. Make no mistake, though, this is still very much an Opeth album, and the ingredients, sans death growling, are still there- only, with the weight of trying to please everyone off their shoulders, allowing some uncharted territory to float to the surface.
Indeed, much of this material comes in the album's second half. Opeth have always been at their best when they've been at their downright weirdest, and the second half of this album is no different. "Charlatan" is perhaps one of the biggest signs of this, Opeth's first truly heavy song this decade, shows Opeth getting uncharacteristically angry, but there's also one hell of a solid groove to this track, staying mostly in mid-tempo. It's a heavy track that feels especially "earned" after 8 years of Opeth seemingly not being able to decide what it is they want to do with their new direction. The pepperings of jazz influences and 70s keyboard over the heavy riffs are a nice addition here, stopping the track from becoming too redundant and one-note. Elsewhere, "The Garroter" shows Opeth finally fully embracing their jazz influences, and finally making an almost full-on jazz track. If this were any other band, it would feel like forced experimentation, but it's a surprise, and a welcome one, too, to see Opeth embracing an influence that's always been on their sound from day one. With these two tracks, and a healthy mix of straightforward tunes like "Lovelorn Crime" (one of the band's most heartfelt and emotional ballads to date), and 8-minute closer "All Things Will Pass" (a song that shows the band drawing some influence from bands like Iron Maiden), it's almost a shame that everything from "Lovelorn Crime" to "All Things Will Pass" aren't their own album; cut out the preceeding 4 tracks, and you'll probably have one of Opeth's best albums to date.
Yes, that's right, the album gets off to a rocky start, and one can be forgiven for not having the patience to press on past track 4- in fact, these songs have some of Opeth's more questionable songwriting and album structuring decisions to date. Intro track "Garden of Earthly Delights" feels not just like filler, but entirely disconnected from the rest of the affair, with pseudo-ethereal chants over a thumping electronic drumbeat that fails to really go anywhere. "Dignity" and "Heart in hand" completely waste the potential set by their spectacularly heavy intros- the former completely delving into a very uninteresting "stock Opeth" tune, complete with a very questionable outro, and Mikael's cringe-worthy singing way outside his range (you can even hear his voice crack a few times). "Heart in Hand", on the other hand, would have worked better at half its length, with its mostly acoustic second half wasting one hell of a buildup with little to no climax, thereby making the song float by undetected. "Next of Kin" also shows what happens when Opeth self-produces, with layers upon layers of smothering over-production ruining what could have been a decently heavy slow-burner. Granted, it's not as though the rest of the album is safe fro this too- "Universal Truth" makes the rather questionable decision to "borrow" note-for-note melodies from Chris Cornell's "You Know My Name", with every instance of this feeling more and more out of place in an otherwise solid tune.
To be fair to Opeth, they really have nothing to prove at this point. It's doubtful that this album will attract everybody who has jumped ship back, but Opeth seems to realize this more than ever- it's their most honest album they've released in a decade, and with the weight of not really caring what anyone thinks lifted off their shoulders, they've seemed to have gained a new energy, a new motivation to truly move forward. It's been clear for ages that Opeth will never make another
Ghost Reveries, but if albums like this are how they intend on trying provide evidence of this being a good thing, then it's certainly quite the stepping stone.
Of course, though, let's not get ahead of ourselves, though. That is how we ended up with albums like
Heritage and
Sorceress, after all.
