From the very first album, 1995’s ‘Orchid’, Opeth felt different. Rooted in death metal, ‘Orchid’ still hinted at progressive ambitions and it was these elements that would fully take hold, arguably becoming a defining characteristic on ‘Still life’, the band’s epic fourth album. That deft juxtaposition of death metal and progressive rock led to a run of truly astonishing albums that began with the mind-blowing ‘Blackwater Park’, and ended with 2008’s ‘Watershed’. The album was aptly named for it marked a turning point in the band’s career, and with the release of ‘watershed’, the band’s death metal elements were finally excised. As with Anathema, who steadily stripped away the intense doom that characterised their early releases, Opeth’s journey has been a natural one, reflecting the changing tastes and advancing musicianship of the band over the years (and particularly of Mikael Akerfeldt who has long professed a far greater love for progressive rock than for extreme metal). The result was ‘Heritage’, a progressive gem which gleefully explored and augmented the music that had so influenced Mikael in his formative years. In contrast, ‘Pale communion’ did not achieve the same sense of innovation and experimentation and, despite the immaculate musicianship, the album felt too rooted in the progressive past to feel like a genuine step forward. Thus we come to ‘Sorceress’, Opeth’s twelfth album, and their first for new label Nuclear Blast. The album has seen a huge promotional campaign including the release of the album’s epic, jazz-infused title track and ‘The Wilde flowers’, all of which has led to a significant degree of expectation. Happily, ‘Sorceress’ not only meets, but exceeds those expectations and it is clear from the moment that the introductory ‘Persephone’ gives way to the quite brilliant title track that Opeth have hit a new creative peak.
Unsurprisingly, ‘Sorceress’ is a genuine album rather than simply a collection of tracks. Featuring eleven compositions, the album is bookended by the gorgeous ‘Persephone’, and it is a gentle reminder that Mikael Akerfeldt crafts his music with a long view, creating a suite of songs that ebb and flow over the fifty-six-minute run time. ‘Persephone’ is unequivocally beautiful. A subtle, acoustic piece of music that recalls the work of Steve Hackett, it gives way to the progressive majesty of the title track. With a much stronger jazz influence than ‘Pale communion’, ‘Sorceress’ feels like a more natural follow-up to ‘Heritage’ and when churning, palm-muted guitars break the flow and take the listener into a darker place altogether, it’s hard to contain the goose-bumps that rise, unbidden, upon your skin. All of the elements you might expect from latter day Opeth are present and correct – Mikael’s rich tones, Martin Aexenrot’s taut, innovative drums, and Joakim Svalberg’s swirling keyboards – but there’s an edge of danger once more woven into the music and the result is truly mesmerising. No less impressive is the stabbing rhythm and minor-key melody of ‘The wilde flowers’. Reminiscent of ‘Damnation’-era Opeth but with a more dynamic thrust, ‘The Wilde flowers’ is a darkly psychedelic trip that makes the most of its run time to introduce complex guitar figures that drift sweetly into the mix, allowing for a touch of light before a surprisingly explosive conclusion sweeps in like a rain storm, pelting the ground and causing rivulets to form where moments before flowers bloomed in the sunlight. Rather more whimsical is the folky, acoustic strum of ‘Will O The Whisp’, a gorgeous, keening ballad that sees the dark clouds of its predecessor dissipate. A gorgeous, measured piece of music, ‘Will O The Whisp’ features some lovely Gilmour-esque guitar work only for ‘Chrysalis’ to once again drag the listener off at an unexpected tangent, with urgent riffs and taut percussion setting the blood surging through the veins. Still emphasising the progressive edge the band have been honing over the last two releases, ‘Chysalis’ sees Opeth exploring a whole new brand of heavy and it’s an exhilarating trip that draws on Floyd, Crimson as well as Opeth’s own illustrious heritage.
Beautiful, elegant and haunting, ‘sorceress 2’ is an evocative piece of work that exists in the dark shade of ancient trees, an air of magic and mystery wonderfully conjured up by the music. That air of magic continues over into the exotic, Eastern textures of ‘the seventh sojourn’, a stunning piece of music redolent of dark spices and mystical landscapes that shimmer underneath the dancing mirages of a blazing sun. This is Opeth once again exploring new landscapes with an air of wonder that infects the listener and ‘the seventh sojourn’, like the album as a whole, is a journey you’ll want to take with Opeth over and again. ‘Strange brew’ opens as a subtle, atmospheric piece that initially slips gently into Ulver territory, the jazz-infused prog speaking of late-night walks through abandoned streets. A lengthy song that builds beautifully, it soon leaves the established paths of civilisation and plunges headlong into a sinister maze of blistering guitar work that sounds like King Crimson covering Cream (fitting, given the title). It’s exciting and innovative, and it feels as if Opeth have pushed their abilities on this album, drawing their influences into a wonderfully coherent tapestry that is all their own. Shifting tone once more, ‘a fleeting glance’ sees Opeth nod towards ‘Sgt Pepper’ (in particular ‘She’s leaving home’) on a wistful pop song beamed in form an alternate universe that builds an atmosphere of gentle longing, it is only when a stately solo appears that the track becomes more firmly rooted in progressive territory. Sonically huge, ‘era’, the album’s final song, employs gargantuan riffs that reverberate like thunder in the wake of ‘a fleeting glance’. It leaves only the gentle outro, ‘Persephone (slight return)’, to slowly ease the listener out of their reverie and back to the realities of day-to-day life.
Opeth have spent eleven albums honing their art. Whilst the brutal death riffs and harrowing screams of yore are long gone, ‘Sorceress’ remains a heavy album. Jazz-influenced progressions, dark riffs and a simply stunning vocal performance from Mikael Akerfeldt marks this out as the best of Opeth’s progressive works. Whilst ‘Pale communion’ had many moments of beauty, it never felt dangerous in the way that ‘Sorceress’ does. Here, a beautiful phrase can lead you into the darkest maze, whilst the most complex, claustrophobic riff can suddenly propel the listener out into a vast landscape, abundant with life and yet potentially threatening. On each track there’s a sense of invention and excitement and the album as a whole flows beautifully – just listen as the exotic wonder of ‘seventh sojourn’ gives way to the mesmerising ‘strange brew’. As with ‘Pale communion’, Mikael’s influences are on full display, but there they’re twisted more effectively into a framework that is exclusively Opeth. Overall, there is a strong argument that ‘Sorceress’ is Opeth’s finest progressive work and there is no question at all that it is a magical, imaginative journey from start to finish. Complex and multi-tiered, ‘Sorceress’ is a work of depth and imagination that takes both time and patience to unravel, but the rewards speak for themselves. 9
