Opeth
Ghost Reveries

THE REVIEW

It is well-known, even to those with a less than superficial knowledge of modern metal, that Opeth is one of the most celebrated bands in the field; a reputation well deserved, given the qualitative and artistic consistency that the ensemble of the legendary Michael Åkerfeldt has managed to guarantee over the years. From the brilliant beginnings with Orchid and Morningrise, through the seventies experiments of the following albums, the band has crafted one masterpiece after another, placing themselves at the top of death metal and, I dare say, of metal as a whole, consecrating its leader to the status of an untouchable music guru (at least as far as "extreme" music played with taste and intelligence is concerned).

This Ghost Reveries, the band's eighth album, was eagerly anticipated by all the enthusiasts and, in particular, by a significant portion of the specialized press, which after the half misstep of deliverance, was waiting for the perfect opportunity to ruthlessly crush a new Swedish discography flop. But, sorry to disappoint these malevolent critics, the much-desired flop did not occur. On the contrary, and I say this without fear of contradiction, right from the shifting opener "Ghost of Perdition", Opeth's new emanation stands as one of their absolute best releases, and perhaps as THE album of the year 2005 - a golden, or rather steel, year for metal lovers.
Right from the first 10 minutes of the aforementioned "Ghost of Perdition", one is pleasantly surprised by a compositional heterogeneity and creativity unmatched in the band's history.

It begins with an icy and spectral arpeggio, immediately violated by nervous electric guitar strikes, in pure Still Life style. But Opeth are incapable of resting for too long on the same solutions, and thus follow rhythmic cadences with a very tool-like flavor, alternating with an overwhelming Gothic gallop. And this is where the first timid keyboards peek through, cloaking everything in impalpable decadence. Indeed, because, a brand-new feature of this album, Opeth has permanently inserted a keyboardist into the lineup, the excellent Per Viberg from Spiritual Beggars, who brings an additional seventies flavor to each song. His subtle atmospheric weavings, diaphanous and rarefied, embellish the highlights without ever succumbing to futile virtuosity or cloying intrusion.

At this point, as it may have become evident, doing a sterile track-by-track for such a varied and multiform album would be exceedingly difficult; however, I cannot help but mention, just to whet your tympanic palate, the enveloping tribal percussiveness of the beautiful "Atonement", an oriental-flavored ballad with a mystical taste; the unprecedented and dizzying time signature changes of "The Baying of the Hounds" and "Beneath the Mire"; the alluring acoustic introspections of "Hours of Wealth" and "Isolation Years", the latter with a quasi post-rock progression; or the shadowy and catatonic electronics of "The Grand Conjuration", which sporadically brings to mind the Massive Attack of the legendary Mezzanine.

In short, an album that might make the purists of the most orthodox metal frown, but that would also, and above all, enrich those who have never appreciated anything about metal and are convinced that the genre is just crudity, farts, alcohol, burps, screaming yells, and boar-like grunts. Make it yours, whatever your musical background may be. You will not regret it.