Opeth
Orchid

THE REVIEW

If it is true, as some say, that the first album is always the best, Orchid by Opeth seems to confirm this rule. Indeed, when talking about Opeth, people tend to especially recall albums like "Still Life" or "Blackwater Park," making the mistake of overlooking the earlier works, among which their phenomenal debut shines. It is difficult to place the Swedish band's offering within a single genre, as it does not follow well-defined patterns. In '94, Opeth was devoted to a melodic and decadent Death Metal, tainted with Doom and strong in progressive development, where Mikael Åkerfeldt's genius, the soul and voice of the group, was already shining with its own light. The fatalistic lyrics completed the picture.

As in the best Opeth tradition, the tracks, sometimes interconnected by suggestive instrumental interludes, reach an average length that is very substantial, in order to emphasize the extreme cohesion that binds the entire work together; but if you think that songs over ten minutes long might be boring, heavy, and repetitive, you are mistaken.
The dance opens with “In The Mist She Was Standing,” and immediately the deep atmosphere generated by Orchid's music is outlined, unfolding through various and refined compositions, steadily built on a solid rhythmic base and repeatedly violated by the singer's spectral yet animalistic growling. The second track, “Under The Weeping Moon,” maintains the same general characteristics as its predecessor and boasts one of the most emotional moments of the album: a mystical background provided by a dark arpeggio on which the voice of the night rests, with its sounds and laments that seem to come from the darkness; in other words, a true example of sound poetry. After the instrumental perfection of “Silhouette,” played entirely by a frenzied piano, the band's inspiration finds full expression in the 24 total minutes of “Forest Of October” and “The Twilight Is My Robe,” where you are truly catapulted into a cold forest with dark shades, from which it seems impossible to escape. A brief acoustic passage called “Requiem” escorts the listener to the last track, “The Apostle In Triumph,” introduced by a scratchy guitar followed by the usual storm of riffs, and the journey resumes in its dark splendor, amidst gloomy landscapes and purple skies, among vague shadows and faint lights, until the final dissolution. Purple is definitely my favorite color.