It seems suitably ironic that Opeth, whilst eschewing the metallic bent of yore, have unleashed what is arguably their heaviest album to date, albeit heavy in progressive rather than metal terms. It is here, on their tenth album (or observation if you will) that Mikael Akerfeldt has indulged his love of complex and unnerving progressive rock at the expense of the black metal growls that peppered previous albums and as a result he has crafted an album that is liable to prove divisive amongst fans but which sees him rise to the song-writing heights of Robert Fripp, a craftsman whose influence looms large over the mind-boggling progressions of ‘the devil’s orchard’ and indeed over the album as a whole.
Much has already been made, via internet forums and the like, of the marked absence of metallic material, but the truth is that Opeth have never sat entirely comfortably within the metal genre – so often reaching out to the more grandiose soundscapes of the progressive genre and over the years fans have come to expect nods towards King Crimson, Caravan and even early Genesis amidst the raging guitars. It has been suggested that ‘Heritage’ is a descendent of ‘damnation’, an album that similarly moved away from all things metal, but the music on offer here is much more demanding, both technically and emotionally, and where that record was a beautiful, lilting counterpart to the out-and-out aggression of ‘Deliverance’, ‘Heritage’ stands alone as a towering progressive colossus that challenges any conceptions of the band that you may have formed over the years. All that said, ‘Heritage’ still sounds like Opeth – how could it not – but what is on offer here requires patience and dedication which will undoubtedly test fans and leave more than a few yearning for the more brutal approach of the past.
Much has changed since the epic, mind-blowing ‘watershed’. There is no gentle folk introduction here, rather a neo-classical piano-based instrumental creating a downbeat atmosphere and leaving you utterly unprepared for the painfully complicated progressions of ‘The Devil’s orchard’, a track which pushes the band to their limits over its six and a half minutes and leaves the listener breathless at the audacity of a band who have altered their sound so radically in the course of a single album. For where in the past you could realistically expect a stunning blow of razor sharp guitars, here you have clean riffs in mind-boggling time signatures and overlaid with the ever creepy sound of the mellatron; Mikael, meanwhile, is in fine voice, intoning ‘God is dead’ and imbuing the sentiment with a sense of drama rather than Satanic glee, whilst the music swirling around him is easily the most intelligent and enthralling of his career. Opening with a simple, stunning piece of finger-picking, ‘I feel the dark’ is an equally remarkable track, with gently reverberating guitar echoing through the composition. It’s dark-hearted and more than a little melancholic to be sure, but what really gets the skin crawling are the slithery riffs unleashed in the second half of the track over Martin Axenrot’s truly awe-inspiring percussion. It’s heavy, but not in any traditional sense of the word, and it’s a sound that suits Opeth down to the ground. Shorter, sharper and altogether more to the point is the rollicking ‘Slither’ which is a suitably dramatic tribute to the late Ronnie James Dio. It’s not exactly metal, but it has a glorious solo in the mid section and great vocal harmonies and it has hints of Rainbow at their peak shot through its classic-rock sound.
Having let loose, Opeth quickly reel themselves back in for the tightly coiled, subtle ‘Nepenthe’ which couples jazzy drums with the gentlest of guitar parts for first couple of minutes before edging into more familiar territory, albeit still heavily jazz-influenced, when the vocals finally arrive. It’s the sort of experimentation that could easily go awry, killing off a lesser band, but Opeth have clearly put themselves heart and soul into their current direction and it never falls short of jaw-dropping, particularly when Frederik Akesson unleashes a solo that could rival Robert Fripp himself on the bridge. Remaining in similarly difficult territory, ‘Haxprocess’ maintains the jazz-orientated rhythmic shuffle of its predecessor but then sees all the music stripped away to leave Mikael’s voice fragile and alone for the verse. This pales in comparison, however, to the adventurous, epic ‘famine’, a track which draws from so many different wells of inspiration that it’s hard to keep up on the first, or even second, listen. Indeed, like much of ‘heritage’ this is an album designed to grow in stature as you become more familiar with it, and while initial listens may prove to be somewhat overwhelming, as you slowly embrace the record, so it begins to relinquish its secrets. And the key here is the word ‘album’. ‘Heritage’ is not a work to be dipped into lightly via a playlist on Itunes – this is something to place in your CD player or on your record deck and allow to envelop you, as one glorious work of art with each song beautifully complimenting the one before and after it. Like all truly great albums, ‘heritage’ takes the listener on a journey and whilst the road that Mikael walks may be dark, it is not without the essential glimmers of hope provided by faster moving tracks such as ‘the lines in my hand’ which glisten with progressive zeal and atypical time-signatures. ‘Folklore’ is next and for much of its run-time it proves to be an instrumental (vocals only appear in the final two minutes of the track) – a lengthy, multi-faceted piece, maintains the interest by refusing to stay still for more than the briefest of instants and employs a broad palette of moods and emotions over its eight-minute run time. All that just leaves the closing number ‘marrow of the earth’ to draw the album to an instrumental close, drawing the listener back to the beginning of the album and lending a cyclical feel to proceedings as the final notes perfectly segue back into the opening track.
Of course, this being Roadrunner, you also get the option of buying a special edition (well two actually, but the ultra-deluxe edition is somewhat out of our price range!) which in this case proves to be the album presented in a very nice digi-pack with special lenticular artwork and a golden coin attached to the front. Inside the package, meanwhile, you are treated to the album on regular CD and a DVD offering a special 5.1 mix (courtesy of famed producer Steven Wilson from Porcupine Tree), two bonus tracks and a documentary. We have yet to see the documentary, but the 5.1 mix is truly mind-blowing, surpassing even the excellent work done on ‘Still life’ and for those with the appropriate equipment it offers up an even more potent presentation of an already perfect-sounding album.
There are undoubtedly going to be fans who are less than thrilled with ‘heritage’. It is a difficult, different, intelligent and quite outstanding album, but it also represents a significant shift away from metal towards purer progressive pastures. There is nothing easy about ‘heritage’. It requires work and patience and it took several listens to even gain the confidence with which to do this review, but it is also an album which offers rich rewards and it is sure to be embraced by more adventurous fans of the band. ‘Heritage’ bears one similarity to previous Opeth outings (especially everything from ‘Blackwater park’ onwards) in that it is a flawless, majestic body of work that demands your attention and respect from the off. This is an exceptional album from a band who continue to grow and develop far beyond the bounds of expectation.
