THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

Few bands have so drastically transformed the canon of progressive music as Opeth has. Since the '90s, the Swedes have delivered work after work, perfecting their craft while navigating the vast influences that Mikael Åkerfeldt treasures as a devoted music aficionado and tireless innovator. With The Last Will and Testament, we are met with a fully bloomed Opeth?one that, after journeying through the majestic sounds of '70s progressive rock and the brutality of melodic death metal, manages to marry the best of both worlds in an indulgent, abundant masterpiece capable of reconciling their vast and divided fanbase.

Comparisons to Watershed (2008) are inevitable due to the album's intricate complexity, the heavy use of synthesizers, and the triumphant return of Mikael's growling vocals, which have never sounded better. The album's aesthetic, steeped in the 1920s, and its frosty sonic textures demonstrate the band's continued willingness to explore the elegant style first hinted at in In Cauda Venenum (2019). However, this record distances itself from its predecessor with a crisper production that amplifies every section and achieves a more balanced mix.

Yet, all comparisons pale in the face of this album's unpredictability. It traverses a vast range of emotions and tonalities befitting its theme: the melodramatic reading of a patriarch's will, filled with twisted mysteries and sinister plot twists. And who better to guide us through these calamities than Ian Anderson? His vocal and instrumental contributions infuse the album with the progressive spark that lights our way through each paragraph of the testament (§). His flute solo on "§4" is an eclectic moment of madness that contrasts sharply with the solemnity he brings to "A Story Never Told," the album's poignant finale.

Tracks like "§2" and "§5" keep us perpetually off balance with extreme and contrasting passages that perfectly illustrate Opeth's dual nature. From captivating melodies of solemn beauty to the most tense gatherings of diminished chords, the album encompasses acoustic instrumentals, clapping hands (olé!), and synthesizer solos. Joakim Svalberg shines throughout the record, wielding a palette of analog keyboards?Mellotrons, Hammond organs, and more?to craft dense and enveloping atmospheres like a shadowy architect.

The rhythmic duo of Waltteri and Méndez delivers aggressive grooves that elevate the album to another plane with unexpected syncopations, subtle ghost notes, and bass counter-melodies as beautiful as the primary motifs. Both "§1" and "§4" are fundamentally built on their work, generating hypnotic rhythms where bass and kick drum provide a tightly controlled foundation of tension and precision.

Euphoria will wash over fans as they hear the bombastic riffs and visceral growls in tracks like "§2" and "§7." These extreme passages intertwine with baroque sections, jazzy interludes, and moments of acoustic introspection, resulting in a rich, multifaceted musical experience. Every sonic choice breathes life into the vivid images Åkerfeldt envisioned for this musical narrative. The outcome is a wholly synesthetic, cinematic experience.

"§1" introduces all the elements that make this album an instant classic: supersonic grooves, Méndez's profound and contemplative basslines, and Åkesson's evocative guitar work, a wizard of melody. Major chords rising from the shadows establish the album's chiaroscuro tone, paired with the fervent chorus proclaiming, "The last will and testament of father." The echo of the growls?after 16 long years?is etched into memory as a moment of pure joy for Opeth's fans. The string arrangement closing the track is simply breathtaking, a testament to the meticulous detail poured into this masterpiece. Conceptually, the song serves as a framing device for the story, setting the stage in the patriarch's eerie mansion where the intricate narrative unfolds.

"§2" begins brutally, allowing no time to breathe, accompanied by stunning poetry narrating the daughter's tale:

"A child in the night Cursed to survive Love like quicksand And deflowered maid in tow."

The lyrics stand out for their carefully crafted metrics and storytelling, recalling gems like "White Cluster" (1999). A dark melody materializes among the strings, introducing the lawyer (Ian Anderson) who reads the father's confessions?sins that will decisively shape the inheritance and the fate of his descendants. The song weaves between extreme guitars and Mellotrons that complement each other to form atmospheres steeped in malevolence, with Joey Tempest's arena- rock choirs adding a theatrical flair. Amid the misery, an acoustic and synthesizer interlude opens a quasi-psychedelic section reminiscent of The Beatles. Mikael bids farewell with a beautiful refrain, "There is a rising tide of sorrow," marking the 26th instance of the word "sorrow" in Opeth's discography?because why break the tradition?

The third paragraph ("§3") tells the story of the patriarch's polio-stricken daughter. Classy violin arrangements perfectly evoke the postwar era, marked by disease and upheaval. Mikael's vocal acrobatics are spine-chilling, with lines like, "Matrimonial locks, skeleton key," delivering some of the album's most iconic moments. Here, the most astounding atmospheric shifts unfold, and Mikael even takes time to tune his guitar between D and E standard during live performances. Abrasive Middle Eastern melodies and the baroque introduction elevate this track as an exemplar of the album's superior balance and versatility.

"§4" mesmerizes from its opening Mellotron-infused oriental riffs, gliding atop a liquid, modern groove. Mikael's vocals traverse styles, culminating in operatic choruses reminiscent of Freddie Mercury. Harp melodies infuse solemnity, underscoring the patriarch's revelation that the twins are not his sons after all. What follows is an incredible diminished E riff intertwined with Anderson's flute, painting a soundscape that is nothing short of masterful. Åkesson's solo is intentional and melodic, seamlessly blending with the composition. The track concludes with an extended hypnotic riff filled with diminished chords, syncopation, and double bass?a quintessential Opeth moment.

The album's orchestral malevolence continues into "§5," a monster of a track that opens with an energetic acoustic riff seamlessly transitioning into metallic grandeur. Growls emerge and recede amidst frantic transitions and jazzy guitar tinges reminiscent of "Häxprocess" (2011). Synthesizers and pads take the forefront here, massive Mellotrons swallowing the mix in a dramatic homage to Åkerfeldt's '70s influences like Queen and Gentle Giant. The tension reaches a peak as the twins, in despair, confront the presence of the legitimate heiress.

Joakim takes the spotlight on "§6." Its opening, with an epic melody and a hopeful Dm-F-G progression over an unstoppable groove, stands out as one of the album's rare "happy" moments?a welcome respite from the nocturnal miasma. Midway, brutal riffs harken back to Blackwater Park (2001), while a Mellotron choir underscores Åkerfeldt's admiration for Änglagård. A Dream Theater-esque synthesizer solo defies all expectations, culminating in a bipolar melody that oscillates between epic, sublime, and sinister, only to end softly with Gilmour-like acoustic picking.

"§7" enthralls with its deadly beauty, replete with oriental melodies and sheer brutality. Anderson narrates the patriarch's philanthropic gifts?purely sentimental family relics. The track incorporates guttural depth, complex solos, and jazz-infused keyboards, evoking hints of Riverside. Strings accentuate the climax, delivering a slow, painful, contemplative finale.

Finally, the sublime beauty of "A Story Never Told" is simply breathtaking. Without spoiling, it invites listeners to experience this magnificent track, reminiscent of "Isolation Years" (2005) or "Lovelorn Crime" (2019). A melody both familiar and liberating shatters the oppressive atmosphere of the desolate mansion, representing a break from all façades. Its concluding solo is destined for posterity, crowning a ballad that ranks among the finest in the band's 30- year career.

Like the best films, this album concludes with an incredible plot twist, grandeur, and a clear, relatable message: blood is not always thicker than water. Every detail is executed with meticulous thought, inspired by Succession, yet only Mikael could convey such tragedy through music. Challenging but deeply rewarding, The Last Will and Testament showcases Opeth at the peak of their creativity, balancing their dualities with operatic drama and signature flair.

Guest contributions elevate the album further: Joey Tempest (Europe) on choirs in "§2"; Ian Anderson (Jethro Tull), whose voice and flute add new dimensions; and Dave Stewart (Canterbury scene), whose string arrangements provide an additional layer of sophistication. The revitalization of the band, attributed partly to Waltteri's unmatched chops and death metal roots, is palpable. The return of growls feels perfectly integrated into the album's refined style.

To be clear, every Opeth album since Heritage (2011) is excellent, each contributing elements to this magnum opus. Åkerfeldt and company have consistently followed their hearts, evolving with unparalleled artistic integrity. Growls and death metal neither make nor break Opeth. This album transcends such debates.

In conclusion, The Last Will and Testament is Opeth's finest work in 15 years?a living relic that encapsulates the mastery of one of the most significant bands in progressive music history.