originally written by Craig Hayes
I know you’re busy, so I won’t waste your time.
If the lack of heavy ordnance on Opeth’s last album, Heritage, left you feeling disenchanted or even dismayed with the band, then you’re guaranteed to feel exactly the same way should you listen to their new release, Pale Communion. The album sees Opeth continue their voyage into the dedicated realms of ‘70s progressive rock, and there is nothing on Pale Communion that’ll assuage any concerns about Opeth casting their metallic attributes aside.
In essence, if you felt Heritage was a step too far, then you’re going to be bitterly disappointed by Pale Communion. Heavier guitars might briefly appear on a few of the album’s tracks, but even then, we’re still talking featherweight jangles in comparison to Opeth’s weightier fare. So, if you’re feeling exasperated by the current phase of Opeth’s existence, then, to be honest, the rest of this review probably isn’t for you.
(Anyone still here?)
For those who felt that Opeth committed a grievous sin by changing their musical direction on Heritage, Pale Communion is the perfect representation of all their frustrations. Opeth overlord, Mikael Åkerfeldt, has obviously been blending elements of jazz, folk, and hard, psychedelic, and progressive rock with melodic death metal on Opeth’s releases since day one. However, when Åkerfeldt chose to discard all the steelier accoutrements that made releases like My Arms Your Hearse, Blackwater Park, or Ghost Reveries so revered on Heritage, that clearly upset the apple cart.
Opeth might have been increasing their overtly progressive characteristics with each and every album, and Åkerfeldt has never been shy in talking about his broad range of influences from outside of metal, but while the band has always tinkered with different arrangements, it’s been a slow and steady progression.
The quieter musings of Damnation ruffled a few feathers, but at least that album had Deliverance and Ghost Reveries bookending it. Heritage just arrived, with a radical shift in sound and temperament, meaning the album stuck out, like a sore thumb. Åkerfeldt made it clear he was seeking to escape metal’s boundaries before Heritage’s release, but excluding the heavier elements from Opeth’s much beloved synthesis of sound clearly caused some listeners to exit the band’s fan club.
Obviously, some folks get put out when any band changes their bearing by the minutest of degrees, and while you could dismiss those concerns as the ravings of self-imposed guardians at the gates of metal, in Opeth’s case, those who muttered displeasure had a point.
Opeth’s fusion of progressive rock and melodic metal was balanced to perfection on many of their albums, and to simply remove a raft of the key components that fans adored about the band is understandably annoying – perhaps even downright perplexing. More to the point, while Heritage was a bold album, and a deeply personal release that Opeth’s chief songwriter, Åkerfeldt, felt compelled to create, it wasn’t exactly the most cohesive.
Folks might have felt a little more inclined to forgive Opeth’s retro rock fixations if Heritage hadn’t been a jumble of ideas featuring a couple of tracks that sounded like they were cobbled together from outtakes. Heritage was unquestionably adventurous, and a few unfocused musical missteps were no great surprise as Opeth set out on a new path, but, understandably, plenty of Opeth’s fans felt their patience had been truly tested by the album.
In truth, if I had any concerns about Opeth’s new direction, I’d probably have been royally pissed off about Heritage too. However, I really enjoyed the album overall, and I’m completely zen about Opeth’s current course.
I’m of the opinion that Åkerfeldt owes us nothing. Opeth have nine full-lengths out there that feature abundant metal to enjoy. Many of those releases represent some of the finest melodic metal ever recorded, and that’s a hell of a lot more than most other band’s ever deliver. As Åkerfeldt’s stated, plenty of times, he was tired of where Opeth was residing, and he just wanted to write songs that he wanted to hear. The gripes about Heritage didn’t put him off from following his muse, and he felt the album rejuvenated the band, and opened up new and more inspiring territory for Opeth. I’d much rather listen to an artist following their inspirations like that, than have to endure a band that’s feeling like it’s painted itself into a corner, and is reluctantly treading the same old ground.
Obviously, I’m not alone in feeling that Opeth’s new trajectory is more than satisfactory; plenty of fans are still on board. Some of those might have taken Åkerfeldt’s predilection for vintage rock and used that a springboard to dive deeper into the world of progressive rock for themselves. That’s always going to help make Opeth’s transition easier to understand and appreciate, and new fans have joined the ranks too, because Heritage broke new ground for the band.
So, while I understand that some fans of Opeth’s previous endeavors are upset with the band, and I’m sympathetic to their arguments, Opeth circa 2014 is totally fine by me.
Part of that acceptance comes down to being a progressive rock nerd from way back, and appreciating that Åkerfeldt’s love of vintage rock is sincere. He clearly knows the difference between Pentacle, Pentangle, Pentagram, and Pendragon, so there’s never been any feeling that he’s brought into a ‘60s or ‘70s revisionist trend. It really doesn’t matter how strange, complex, or self-indulgent Opeth are right now either. The band might be channelling some lost and obscure prog on some songs, or bringing hints of well-known acts like King Crimson, Comus, Camel, Magma, Uriah Heep, Eloy, Emerson, Lake & Palmer, or Nektar (who all appear on Pale Communion, at least spiritually) on others. The only thing that really matters is if Opeth are making engaging music – and they’re definitely doing that on Pale Communion.
If Heritage threw open the door for Opeth, then Pale Communion sees the band bolting into the distance with grace, style, and a huge amount of prowess. “Eternal Rains Will Come” opens the album with a big fat keyboard swell from Joakim Svalberg, and jazzy percussion courtesy of Martin Axenrot, and there’s really no question of Åkerfeldt’s intent as the flute arrives and his warm vocals wrap around a knotty riff.
Self-produced by Åkerfeldt, who clearly knows exactly the sound he’s seeking to capture, Pale Communion is mixed by Steven Wilson, and things are aptly crisp. “Cusp of Eternity” mixes a little heavier riffing from Fredrik Åkesson and Åkerfeldt with a exotic tang, before the album’s prog rock epic, “Moon Above, Sun Below,” arrives. The album’s longest and most serpentine track, it features multiple parts, and piles of instrumentation, shifting the song through a series of dramatic and dynamic passages. Elsewhere, “River” features a countrified flavor in its multi-layered emotional rapids – at least until the cathedral keyboards arrive, and the band kicks into a soaring finale.
Opeth simply sound more relaxed and confident about the territory that Åkerfeldt’s been aspiring to inhabit for years on Pale Communion. “Goblin” oozes a sense of a fun, blending jazz fusion and more atmospheric keyboards, while paying homage to the Italian prog legends of the same name. Throughout the record, there’s gorgeous vocal harmonies galore, none more powerful or moving than those found on “Faith in Others,” which closes the album with a beautiful display of symphonic balladry.
Akerfeldt’s vocals, which have never sounded better, are matched by melodies to die for. What makes the album, and remedies Heritage’s failings, is that no matter how eccentric or intricate the arrangements on the new album are, they’re never so convoluted as to obscure the heart within. In that sense, Pale Communion is a far more welcoming and accessible album than Heritage, and features dazzling displays of instrumental prowess from all involved. Every member of Opeth was clearly focused on one collective goal for the album, and Pale Communion is exquisite in its breadth, tone, and texture.
Pale Communion is a tour de force, replete with virtuoso songwriting, but if you’ve sworn off Opeth at this point, feeling disappointed by the band’s transformation, then the album won’t be changing your mind at all. However, for anyone who’s been cheering Opeth’s evolution, this is your reward. The album is the ultimate realisation of Akerfeldt’s dream to make a definitive progressive rock album, and Pale Communion is a consummate artistic statement in that regard.
Obviously, there’ll be more to come from Opeth, and they’ll no doubt impress us all over again. But, for now, Pale Communion is about as close to perfect as you could hope for. Let the worshipping begin. Opeth deserve it.
