THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

Opeth is a band that really needs no introduction, so I'll try to keep this brief. They're one of the giants of progressive metal with some of the best albums ever in that genre. Their run from 1996-2008 is nigh unimpeachable.

But ever since Mikael Åkerfeldt decided to move the band away from metal with their 2011 record Heritage, I've been less taken with their music. None of the albums since then have been bad, but they've all just kinda lacked that ineffable spark that makes a truly great record. It's been a lot of decent, fairly heavy retro-prog, but Opeth doesn't really stand out from the field in that particular style. There's even a difference between their recent stretch of records and 2003's Damnation, their first foray into non-metal. Damnation feels much more like classic Opeth than, say, Sorceress. Damnation's contemplative folkiness suits Mikael's voice and songwriting better than his recent attempts at drawing from acts like Uriah Heep and Jethro Tull (or at least Tull's heavier stuff).

The Last Will and Testament, Opeth's fourteenth full-length album, sees the band return to something closer to their classic mid-aughts sound, making this their strongest release in a while. The album tells the story of a wealthy family and their sordid secrets in the form of the reading of the recently-passed patriarch's will. Seven of the eight songs on this record are titled "§1-7".

"§1" has a tense and foreboding opening that wouldn't feel out of place on a song by Åkerfeldt's BFF Steven Wilson. When the verse starts, it's refreshing to hear Mikael growl again, and the increased weight and muscularity of this music is a major improvement over recent efforts. Eerie Mellotron and dashes of jazzy electric piano provide good textural contrasts. 

A sweet string arrangement closes out "§1" before launching into the storming opening of "§2". The organ tone in quieter moments calls to mind Zabriskie Point-era Pink Floyd, providing yet more solid sonic variation to the death metal passages that surround them. Narration of the titular will is sprinkled in. It's part of the story, I understand, but it can still be somewhat distracting. Thankfully, it intrudes relatively infrequently.

"§3" kicks off with a complex and flashy bit of riffage and a bit of jazz flavor. When the verse finally emerges, the rhythm is groovy and rolling. The strings can border on overbearing at moments, but the underlying strength of the composition carries this piece past that distraction.

Jittery bass and a slinky, Middle Eastern-tinged guitar line give "§4" one of the more unique openings on this album. That said, it's also one of the passages that most reminds me of some of their more recent and unimpressive work, especially on Sorceress. About halfway through this song, though, there's a lovely flute solo played by Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull. (Upon looking into it, he also provides the spoken narration on four songs.) "§4" ends pretty strong, with Opeth's heavy and creepy elements trading the spotlight in ways that complement each other.

Things are relatively quiet, though taut, in "§5"'s first moment. Twangy acoustic guitar and angelic backing vocals lend this a unique character within the context of the album. The buildup to this song's metallic section is gradual and natural, and I feel the need to reiterate just how good it is to hear Åkerfeldt's growls in new music. The band incorporates some spooky synth flourishes, and the string arrangements?though again quite forward?feel more appropriately prominent.

"§6" fades in on a slow, growling organ pattern just before high-energy drums give this song an abrupt injection of pep. I really like the contrast of the speedy drumming and more deliberate organ and guitar in these opening moments. The rest of the band eventually catches up, and synthesizer and guitar both get their chance to shine with a pair of flashy solos. An extended quiet section closes things out, and it features some Gilmourian jazz noodling that really helps cool things off.

The will itself (though not the album) ends with "§7". There's an immediate sense of dread in its first seconds. Sparse verses, featuring both flute and narration from Ian Anderson, shifts into what might be my favorite passage on the whole record. A downward synth pattern almost sounds like a siren, adding to the weight of it all. This really feels like a fitting climax to such an important document.

Closing things out is "A Story Never Told". Airy clean guitar turns into a Camel-esque bit of mellow prog (again featuring Ian Anderson's flute). This is the sort of non-metal Opeth excels at. It's contemplative, folky, and melodic. Their attempts at heavier prog on recent releases always felt a little underbaked. They seem all-or-nothing in their musical heaviness.

I went into The Last Will and Testament blind, having purposely avoided the pre-release singles. I also went in somewhat skeptical, based on Opeth's recent track record. I will say I'm pretty happy overall. I wouldn't put this on the same tier as Still Life or Ghost Reveries, but it's an enjoyable return to form for one of the most important modern metal bands.

Review originally posted here: theeliteextremophile.com/2024/11/25/album-review-opeth-the-last-will-and-testament/