I’ve been an Opeth fan since late 1997, when I first heard “Nectar” on a Century Media comp. I was intrigued, and after tracking down copies of Morningrise and Orchid, I was in love. (My Arms, Your Hearse came out shortly afterwards, and cemented their status as my #1 favorite band – and that hasn’t changed since). I can remember back to the release of every new album, breathlessly awaiting the first samples that would drop. “Moonlapse Vertigo,” “Harvest,” “Wreath,” “Windowpane,” “The Grand Conjuration,” “The Lotus Eater.” This is long before streaming services – remember, we actually had to wait for mp3s to get posted? And then as soon as the album would appear online, I’d find it, gobble it up, and play it endlessly until I received my physical copy. And then continue with my listening spree. 

This time, I did something very different. My wife and I finally invested in a record player a few years ago, and so not only did I wait to listen to In Cauda Venenum until it was actually in my hands, but I also bought it on vinyl. In Swedish. And then I did something even more uncharacteristic. I waited almost a week longer, until the house was empty. Wife out, kids out. I pulled a chair over to the speakers, poured myself a good beer, laid the record sleeve open on my lap, and I finally hit play.

There have been many, many listens since that first one, but even now, I still can’t shake the odd thought that bubbled up somewhere around the lovely, sunlit wanderings of “Ingen sanning är allas/Universal Truth”: I forgot I was even listening to Opeth. And then an even stranger fantasy occurred to me.

Imagine that it’s 2008 again. You’re a massive Opeth fan. You know every note on every album, from Orchid throughout Watershed. You know them as well as you know any pieces of music. And then, you fall into a coma. Doesn’t matter how, you’re just gone from the world. You miss out on the big shift, and the rumors of the two deleted post-Watershed death metal tracks. You miss out on Heritage, on Pale Communion, on Sorceress. 

And then you wake up in a strange house.

The house from the album cover, in fact. A stately English manor house, with the gentle crush of evening settling all around, and warm golden light blazing from within. You’re lying in a plush and monstrous bed. Smooth white sheets, dark green velvet coverlet, mahogany posts carved in baroque patterns. The bed is comfortable and warm, like the rest of the chamber, and yet, your first thought is a dark one. Someone died in here. The corners of the room are obscured by shadow. Maybe that person is still here.

And then a man steps out of those shadows. A familiar face, bearded and with a wry smirk. It’s Mikael Akerfeldt. He’s dressed in a smoking jacket and top hat – a bit eccentric, sure, but it suits him well. He’s got a gleam in his eye. He slips a snifter of brandy into your hand, waits for you to pull on a silk pair of pajamas, and then he gives you a tour of the place.

It’s an elegant home, solidly built and handsomely furnished. Everything is luxurious, ornate, but also darkened with the patina of years. Well-worn and lived in. And there’s music playing in every room. It’s Opeth, Mikael confirms, but it’s not the band you remember. There’s still that same duality of darkness and light, heavy vs delicate, but where are the biting guitars? Where are the thunderous rhythms, the roaring vocals? It’s a different palette altogether. And yet, it’s still assertive without being aggressive. It commands your attention. And it’s rich. Rich and dark and exquisite. And as you wander through the house, you bathe in that music, letting it warm you back to life.

It often sounds familiar – a chord progression here, a layering of melodies there, and buoyed along at all times by Mikael’s honeyed voice and the band’s pristinely detailed playing. And it varies in mood, each piece matching the decor and feel of its respective chamber. Some rooms, filled with the sounds of “Kontinuerlig drift/Continuum,” or “Ingen sanning är allas/Universal Truth,” are relaxing. There are deep, comfortable chairs in there, fine food and drink to sample, and fascinating books to peruse. You feel refreshed and stimulated just being in those spaces. In another chamber – smaller than the rest, but opulent and colorful, there’s a song playing called “Minnets yta/Lovelorn Crime.” It’s so yearning and heartbreakingly pretty that you don’t want to move on, but you know that there’s more of the house to explore, and your time in this room is limited. 

And then there are the parlours and halls that surprise and delight. At one point, you step outside into “Livets trädgård/Garden of Earthly Delights” to get some air. Hushed mutterings and tinkling chimes float to your ears through the twilight. When you step back inside to the manor’s entry, a chorus of crying voices whirls you around to confront the cavorting bray of a heavy organ coming from an adjacent parlour. 

This room is called “Svekets prins/Dignity,” Mikael says, and it’s one of the strangest in the entire house. The walls are covered in paisley wallpaper and gilded, gleaming frames, but whereas some of them feature the face of a angelic young woman, the others are filled with grotesque old men, their leathery jowls pulled into scowls and leers. At the very rear of the room, someone has balanced a jumble of smashed and splintered furniture atop a pile of filth-stained tapestries. 

Towards the back half of the manor, you find the most peculiar room of all. Other chambers have been tasteful and often restrained, but this one is painted in garish red and accented in black-and-white carnival striped drapery. Black candles gutter on a scattering of low-slung tables, and a lone piano stands in the center, playing a cycling and ominous melody. And there’s not a single right-angle in the entire chamber. Just standing in here makes you feel off-balance. This room is called “Banemannen/The Garroter,” Mikael grins, and at first, you’re not sure you’re even in the same house anymore. But as your recuperation continues and your stay in this house extends for days, and then weeks, you find that you return to this room more often that the rest. In fact, if Mikael were ever to expand on the manor house, you hope that he would construct more rooms like this one.

I can probably extend this synaesthetic fantasy for a few more rooms/songs, but this is where your own imagination should take over. And with an album as unique and nuanced and superbly crafted as In Cauda Venenum, I hope that won’t be hard. As much as I’ve enjoyed every Opeth album, this is the closest they’ve come to creative, inspirational brilliance since the glory days of Still Life and Blackwater Park and Damnation. And so that should make any Opeth fan – long-time or brand-new – very excited for the future.

The biggest problem with Opeth’s controversial Heritage release was not the severing of their metallic roots and absence of death growls, but rather the lack of cohesion and focus in the songwriting that plagued the album and made for a maddeningly uneven and frustrating listen. Now it remains clear that Mikael Akerfeldt’s metal days are well and truly behind him as he navigates Opeth deeper into a melancholic fog of 70’s inspired progressive rock shaded with psychedelic and folky musings. Naïve listeners expecting Opeth’s return to their heavier roots with 11^th full-length Pale Communion, or those completely scarred by Heritage, would be best advised to let this one pass by and reminisce about the good old days instead. The rest of us can relish in Opeth’s return to form. Pale Communion largely smoothes over the deficiencies of its much maligned predecessor, resulting in a far more song-based and fluid album which stays within the divisive musical boundaries of Opeth’s metal-free formula of vintage progressive rock.

Pale Communion opens with unexpected immediacy on”Eternal Rains Will Come”, as the band launch into a jazz-infected, percussion heavy groove, before segueing into a much quieter piano led passage that has a vintage Opeth feel to it. The song’s flawless structure and vibrant proggy bounce is brilliantly driven by Akerfeldt and Fredrik Akesson’s spindly guitar melodies and soulful leads, prominent basslines from Martin Mendez, and the space filling atmospherics of Joakim Svalberg’s keyboards. Akerfledt’s increasingly confident vocals sound top notch here, with his melodies on the song almost single-handedly besting much of his elusive work on Heritage. Lead-off single “Cusp of Eternity” rocks a dark melodic groove that’s about as straightforward and immediately gratifying as anything on their past couple of albums. It’s not without Opeth’s trademark intricacies and stellar musicianship, not to mention a classic Akerfeldt solo to seal the deal, but it’s the song’s endearing hooks and central melodies that lend it an accessible streak that counterbalances Opeth’s strong exploratory tendencies.

“Moon Above, Sun Below” is the utterly mesmerizing, brilliantly composed centrepiece of Pale Communion, standing out as one of the best songs Opeth have penned in recent memory. The song has a classic Opeth vibe in tone and atmosphere and from memory is the longest cleanly sung composition (10:57 minutes) in the band’s repertoire. Much of Opeth’s trademark mastery of dynamics has been difficult to replicate since eschewing the metal component of their sound. However, here it’s present in spades across a dense multi-faceted arrangement that showcases the band’s stunning instrumental prowess and recaptured songcraft.

Pale Communion hits a mid-section lull that doesn’t greatly compromise the quality of the album as a whole, but certainly flattens some of the forward momentum from the opening few songs. The delicate hues of “Elysian Woes” contains some stirring moments that builds towards a climax that never really eventuates. Meanwhile, “Goblin” is a fun instrumental jam that showcases the band’s instrumental prowess, and whilst clocking-in at just over four minutes it would have been more impactful as a punchy interlude at half the length. Fortunately the jangly, upbeat melody opening the ambitious “River” develops into a striking composition of great depth and beauty. The song’s contrasting dynamic between hopeful rays of optimism and darker shades of melancholic sadness culminates in a gripping instrumental-heavy climax, featuring some heavier guitar work and hard-hitting rhythms. Somber tones and strong melodies highlight the mournful “Faith in Others”, concluding the album in a painfully sad yet beautiful fashion.

Opeth’s signature tone and the wintry melancholy that has formed a comforting glaze across their career is far more apparent on Pale Communion than its predecessor, as the band return to the fluid arrangements and meticulous songcraft that has highlighted the finer points of their career. Smoother transitions and the overall cohesion displayed throughout Pale Communion hints at a band more comfortable in their new skin, confidently moving forward with their progressive rock formula. Impeccably produced by Akerfeldt and mixed by right hand man Steven Wilson, Pale Communion sounds incredible and is enamoured with a rich organic sound that is warm, punchy and flawlessly balanced.

I broached Pale Communion very much on the sceptical side of the ledger. However, following many repeat listens I’ve been well and truly won over by what Opeth have achieved here. Pale Communion features some of the most consistent, emotional and accomplished songwriting of Opeth’s recent career. And despite being unable to captivate me quite like the classic Opeth of old, Pale Communion is nevertheless a triumphant, frequently brilliant album that signals a cracking return to form.

Well, Heritage is finally here, and what a long, strange trip it is.

First off, there’s no mistaking that it’s Opeth: the intricately layered, call-and-response compositions; the fluid, coiling guitars; the jazzy drumming; and of course, Mikael’s silky-clean croons. All of that is still here. The recording is warm, organic, nakedly honest, and the musicianship, as always, is exquisite. And yet, this definitely sounds… different.

Lead single “The Devil’s Orchard” opens as a groovy, serpentine jam with snappy drumming and shock-occult lyrics – “God is dead,” Mikael chants, the first time we’ve ever heard anything this overtly anti-religion from Opeth. After that, the song floats off into a creepy dirge of warbling organs (picture a Satanic ritual aboard the Yellow Submarine, while lost in the Sea of Monsters) before unexpectedly brightening once more. Follow-up “I Feel the Dark” (one of my favorites here) wraps its first half around a gorgeous, nimble guitar lick and bassline heartbeat, but then, strangely, veers into a massive doom-lurch of organs in its second half. Listen closer, though, and you’ll realize that the organs are playing the same minor-key mellotron melody used in the second segment. And two songs later, “Nepenthe,” which starts with a similarly low-key ballad, explodes into a peculiar, staccato jazz freak-out that’s unlike anything we’ve ever heard from the guys (except maybe the really weird off-time lurch in the center of “The Drapery Falls”). And “Famine,” perhaps the strangest and most patchwork song on the album, traipses through an eerie dreamworld of folk, prog and doom, and features a guest performance by Afro-Cuban percussionist Alex Acuña and a terrifying flute solo by Bjorn Json Lindh.

These, plus other tracks like the soft and soothing “Haxprocess” (which means ‘witch trial’) and the two lovely bonus tracks, “Pyre” (the only track co-written with a band member, in this case guitarist Fredrik Akesson) and “Face in the Snow,” are mostly mid-tempo, moody affairs. However, there are a couple of up-tempo numbers as well, like the swaggering, Zeppelin-esque “Slither.” It’s the most straightforward thing on Heritage (aside from the beautiful intro and outro tracks, “Heritage” and “Marrow of the Earth”), and perhaps one of the most traditional ‘rock’ songs that the band has ever written. Akerfeldt also says that it’s dedicated to Ronnie James Dio (and as stated in the liner notes, the entire album is as well).

“The Lines in My Hand,” towards the end of the album, is peppier and more diverse. It starts off like a late-summer Grateful Dead jam that blends jumpy drums, playful bass, delicate flamenco-influenced guitars, pulsing keys and harmonized vocals, then breaks out into a rollicking Cream homage in its second half. Interestingly enough, this was the first track that Akerfeldt wrote for the new album (after two more traditional death-prog tracks which failed to heat his blood). It must have been hugely exciting for him to really unleash himself on the rest of the album after this first success.

Yet despite all of that colorful musical expression and experimentation, Heritage is a fairly sedate album, steeped in mystery and melancholy. Not a big surprise for Opeth of course – they’ve always evoked that mood, all the way back to Orchid and Morningrise. Still, I would have loved at least one or two more groovy, shambling monster jams like “The Devil’s Orchard” to give it some more life. A few more big peaks or climaxes wouldn’t have hurt either. This is probably compounded by the fact that while “I Feel the Dark,” “Nepenthe,” “Haxprocess,” “Famine” and “Folklore” all travel to some interesting places, they also all begin with a soft, soothing ballad. That bifurcated structure in each song starts creating a repetitive flow in the album overall, despite all the weirdness packed within. Of course, the balladry is all really lovely, but I’d have preferred even more unhinged dynamics and variety throughout Heritage.

All that said, “Folklore” wraps things up on a satisfying note. As I mentioned above, it also adopts the bifurcated song structure, but somehow its flow seems more natural and builds to an exciting peak. In a way, I think it would make the perfect model for Opeth’s new direction. It’s drenched in 70s mystique and nostalgia, but it also nails the cresting dynamics which have made past tracks like “Demon of the Fall,” “Blackwater Park” and “Burden” such triumphs; it proves that you don’t need death roars and crushing guitars to quicken the pulse.

As you can probably tell, Heritage is not an album with quick and easy rewards. Even without the transition from galloping prog-death into gauzy 70s prog, it’s still very odd and haunting, and a bit more sedate than expected. Still, I find myself drawn back to it again and again, soaking in more details and making new connections – and that makes Heritage as much a true Opeth album as any of their other works. And it’s only the first step in the band’s new journey – I really look forward to hearing the explorations on the next release.

Opeth have never skimped on the DVD fraction of their catalog. In a time where just about any band puts out a DVD, quality or not, both 2003’s Lamentations and The Roundhouse Tapes are some of the most beautifully shot you can find, which goes with Opeths entire package. Filmed at The Roundhouse in London in 2006, a DVD like this will actually get the band more fans. Why? It shows first and foremost that Opeth is more than an extreme metal act. Everything from their somber stage presence to their masterful musicianship and progressive nature grabs you. Even one who doesn’t like metal can respect this. Gorgeous backdrops flow through the entire show with artwork variations from each album depending on which songs are being played. The stage is lit up pretty significantly as well. Most live shows have a dark setting but this one is very colorful and visible.

The set list is impressive. Everything is covered here from Orchid to Ghost Reveries. I was pretty surprised at the amount of old material considering this was in support of Ghost Reveries. To see songs like “Face of Melinda,” “Under the Weeping Moon,” and “The Night and Silent Water” being played is a treat. With Opeth’s extensive discography and song lengths they seem to do an excellent job of picking set lists. It was also a bonus to see Peter Lindgren with the band before his departure. Sorry new guy but Peter is the man.

The show itself isn’t the longest and they go from one song to the next fairly quick but in the middle Mikael Akerfeldt does his best at joking and introducing the band. That man is an anomaly. He is so somber and modest when he speaks, then Satan forges out of his lungs when he sings. At the top of my list of songwriters that man is amazing, weird, and funny all at the same time. One thing is for sure, he cannot be brutal and he probably won’t kick your ass. He is a very meek person until he performs.

Extras include interviews with the band and fans. Some fans actually flying in from all over the world. There’s also a gallery of photos from the show and footage of the sound check.

Obviously, everything is executed flawlessly and my jaw always drops at some point in amazement when this band plays. Though, Lamentations was better, The Roundhouse Tape is top notch and an essential piece for fans. I really didn’t expect this to be this good. Opeth will never sacrifice quality and this is proof. I can actually watch this numerous times. Addictive stuff.

Even in the midst of a huge line-up change, Watershed shows no signs of weakness at all. It is quite stunning really. The loss of Peter Lindgren and Martin Mendez was a shocker and a scary time for fans awaiting new material from the band. I’m not sure how he did it, but one thing is for certain, Mikael Akerfeldt is the reason Opeth sounds the way they do, and he has found musicians to continue the legacy with ease. Watershed only moves forward and sets new standards for the band.

One standout ingredient within Watershed’s musical body is the vocals. Mikael is going the distance and using way more cleans with amazing results. I’m not sure who is working with him at Roadrunner, but something has happened since they signed there and it has been a push in the clean areas of Opeth. Checkout “The Lotus Eater” for a great example of Akerfeldt’s monstrous mix of death and clean vocals over blast beasts . Pretty ridiculous, and that’s only the beginning. Submerged in just “The Lotus Eater,” we see Per Wiberg has a way better grasp on the keyboards than in Ghost Reveries. The dark, circus-like atmosphere that the keyboards create help mold Watershed’s aura. Funny thing is, we all felt that old Opeth needed Keyboards anyway. The music just screamed for it. Couldn’t have been more perfect. Another surprising venture for the band comes with guest female vocalist Nathalie Lorichs. She adds wonderful areas to the song “Coil” and it could have been done more.

The beautiful thing in the song writing is how it sounds like Opeth just as much as any other album. They just can’t shake loose that vibe and they never should. That’s what keeps them alive. Mikael said in an interview that writing comes smooth and easy. It really shows. The man just has no problem writing songs and I can’t see it ever changing. The beautiful thing about this album particularly is how they returned to the dark heaviness and folk acoustics that we loved from previous albums. “The Porcelain Heart” sounds like it should have been on Blackwater Park or Still life. Amazing. All of the jazz and blues influences are there as usual but they are engulfed in this foggy dense feel that Watershed creates.

One could go on and on about Watershed because it is an in depth album and sums up so much for the band thus far. Opeth have once again shown the world that they are not going to become that band you love to hate. Each album is a new venture with new ideas. What more could we ask for as metal fans?

Back to the album however. They start off with a brief acoustic song called “Coil”. It’s something of a misleading start to the album but it is quite good. Akerfeldt’s vocals are just amazing, and just for fun they brought in Nathalie Lorichs to make it a short duet. From there the album tries to destroy the listener with a pummeling that you don’t normally associate with these guys. It is not all fast and heavy by any stretch but when they do put the hammer down, bones shatter. When they do get mellow and ambient it’s almost a welcome respite from the assault.

The highlight of this album for me is the third song, “The Lotus Eaters”. It also proves conclusively that they have lost their minds once and for all. At the opening they combine Akerfeldt’s clean vocals with blastbeats. No one does that. Add to that possibly the funkiest metal bridge since “Angel of Death” to appear in a song and you have one for the ages. Amazingly it all works. They even manage to use quite a bit of keyboard and not turn me off. Ask my former employers how difficult this one is, they have many a tale to tell. The production is crystal clear without being sterile. There is great warmth to the sound of this album, while at the same time you know these guys are machines at their respective jobs. This is pure majesty right here. I don’t think I’m enough into this style of music to have this as my album of the year but I am amazed.

Similar to one of my favorites, Enslaved, they have really taken their own style and infused it with a lot of 70’s prog rock weirdness to devastating effect. I’m hoping as they get more out there they continue to get better, though I haven’t the faintest idea how they are topping this one.

Recorded in 2006 at London’s Camden Roundhouse during the Ghost Reveries tour, this double disc only carries nine tunes but they range from all of Opeth opuses including Orchid. Starting things off with “When,” Ghost of Perdition,” and “Under the Weeping Moon,” these three tracks clock in at over thirty minutes of music. “Face of Melinda” is also on the first disc and I can say that is a tune I have never heard live, pretty stellar. The second disc only contains three tracks, one of which is “Windowpane” from the Damnation CD.

Though all of this is packaged with great cover art and an amazing live performance, I really find the whole thing to be boring. Credit has to be given for the great sound and all but as a fan of Opeth who has seen them live twice and bought the Lamentations DVD some years back, this is frustrating and uninteresting to me. I never really liked live recordings anyway so I guess I’m a little bitter. If this would have been their first live recording then I may have different opinions, but I must say I am getting wore out on the same material being rehashed. This set of discs seems very pretentious to me, and the wrong timing in Opeth’s career. Seems as if they are putting out something to satisfy until the next “real” release, which in this humble reviewers opinion is all I want from them.

The Roundhouse Tapes is exactly what you would expect from Opeth in a live recording. Nothing special in my eyes and for a band that is so special, I guess I expect more. Another live DVD will be released early this year of this performance. Maybe the visual aspect of things will sit better with me. For fans of Opeth who either have never saw the band live or whom geek over anything they do, The Roundhouse Tapes will probably be a smart purchase. I however, will be waiting patiently for the next full-length due out this year. Very anxious to see what we get with the new guitarist.