For Week Ending:
15 June 2024

Opeth - Blackwater Park (2001)

[Death Metal (Progressive)]

Apart from with rare exception, it is safe to say that by album number 5 most bands have crossed the line of their creative peak - and their best work is probably behind them. Opeth were one of those rare few, releasing what can only be described as their masterwork almost a decade into their career. Whilst previous album 'Still Life' started with a polite whisper, slowly awakening it's demons, Blackwater Park instead pummels the listener from it's opening notes, and the unique death growls of band mastermind Mikael Akerfeldt fill the speakers just moments from the opening of 'The Leper Affinity'. Shots have been fired, and like everything the band does, the song doesn't so much open an album, but open a period of time in the band's evolution. It starts the juggernaut that is the next 67 minutes of music rolling, and immediately tells those listening that this isn't the sort of music you play on random. It demands to be listened to as a whole. It is immersive. A 'movement' of music, rather than individual songs. Not before long Akerfeldt's voice changes, and an angelic vocal is heard, countering the demonic conjurings of early parts of the song. The guitar lines are achingly beautiful also, and the piano close is divine. Song after song the canvasses are filled with colours and textures, with 'Bleak' primarily in grey before 'Harvest' lifts the album like an acoustic distress call from beyond that floats and swirls in an out of reality. 'The Drapery Falls' is even better, a modern metal classic that will never be matched, both in the way the guitar harmonies draw pictures in the mind, and the swirling bass line wraps around the soul. Track after track the guitar melodies and sublime solos ebb and flow like waves coming and going from the shore, occasionally crashing in a crescendo that is fleetingly broken up with acoustic flourishes like the wonderful 'Patterns In The Ivy'. The album closes with the sublime wall of slow riffing that is the title track, and its deceptive simplicity (in comparison to other tracks) closes the album with a feeling of uneasy grandiosity, but nothing here was ever supposed to feel particularly inviting. The band followed with a number of brilliant albums after this one, but none will ever match the majesty on display here.