Opeth's 'The Last Will and Testament' - Album Review

Whilst Dream Theater are often considered to be the quintessential progressive metal band, and it is fair to say that their sound is what most think of when they imagine progressive metal, the metal band which sits closest sound-wise to the original 1970s progressive rock scene has always been Sweden's Opeth. Formed back in 1990 as essentially an extreme metal act, the band wove their 1970s progressive rock influences into their songwriting from the off - with their debut, 1995's Orchid, likely sounding like nothing else at the time. It was a progressive metal release for the extreme metal fans and the 1970s progressive rock fans - and this balance has continually shifted over the years. Despite what many would say, I do not think that the tone and overall vibe of Opeth's music has changed that significantly over the years. There has always been a bleak, cold edge to the band's music - as well as an emotional heaviness. There was, of course, a literal heaviness for a good number of years, too, but the gradual shift away from their extreme metal roots actually started pretty early on. In my view, only Orchid and 1996's Morningrise feel like extreme metal releases through-and-through, despite the progressive influences, and from 1998's My Arms, Your Hearse onward the band gradually dialled down the extreme elements of their sound and upped the level of retro bleakness and Canterbury-esque fragility. The decision to essentially abandon their extreme metal roots entirely from 2011's Heritage onward has often been seen as a controversial one in metal circles - but when looking at the band's catalogue in hindsight this choice was perhaps inevitable. 2005's Ghost Reveries is a world away from 1999's Still Life which in turn is a world away from Orchid - and Heritage somewhat felt like the natural successor to 2008's schizophrenic Watershed. Hammond organs and Mellotrons had already been a big part of Opeth's sound before Heritage - and the embrace of a 1970s sound with occasional more metallic moments suited Opeth well. In truth, it has continued to do so - and Opeth remain as popular now as they have ever been, despite alienating some of their metal fans along the way. When it was announced, then, that the band's fourteenth studio album would see them somewhat returning to their metallic past, I was unsure how to feel. I have grown to really like much of Opeth's catalogue, although I still struggle a bit with the first two albums, so I was hoping that the return to a heavier sound was not prompted by bandleader Mikael Åkerfeldt finally giving into the fans. Thankfully, though, The Last Will and Testament might just be one of Opeth's best works to date - and the fusing of the growling progressive rock of the last couple of albums with some of the heavier vibes of Ghost Reveries in particular makes for a compelling listen. A concept album about the reading of a family patriarch's will following his death and the family drama which follows, The Last Will and Testament needs those heavier moments to tell its story - and Åkerfeldt remains one of the best growlers in the business.

Much of the album is similar in style to 2019's In Cauda Venenum (which I reviewed here), though, despite the added heaviness - so those who have enjoyed the band's recent trajectory will remain satisfied. The songwriting is much tighter despite the concept and the extreme metal elements, though, which is perhaps a surprise - and the album really feels like a true opus as a result. It is the band's first album with new drummer Waltteri Väyrynen (The Hypothesis; Paradise Lost; Abhorrence; Vallenfyre; Bodom After Midnight; I Am the Night) who came on board in 2022 - and it also features spoken word and flute from Ian Anderson (Jethro Tull). Seven of the eight tracks here are essentially unnamed, and are instead taken from the paragraph numbers of the will - with the final track taking the form of a letter received by one of the characters following the main story's conclusion. §1 opens with the sound of footsteps and the opening of a door - before a creepy musical passage built around a repetitive bass chug from Martín Méndez sees the band kick in. They create a strange staccato vibe early on, whilst swirling keyboards sit in the background, and this continues on throughout much of the early part of the song. Väyrynen's loose drumming is a hark back to the style on the band's older albums, mixing swinging grooves with double bass patterns, whilst the aching keyboards back Åkerfeldt as he sings clean initially - before he launches into the first growls of the album. His clean vocals generally dominate, but the heavier interjections are welcome - and early on Anderson doubles him up, repeating each of his growled lines in a thespian manner. This first track is extremely varied, though, and it moves through a number of different moods. The staccato swing from early on is often returned to, but there are much more jazzy and bombastic sections with some really theatrical Åkerfeldt vocals - and he sounds different to his usual more plaintive approach during this sections, perhaps channelling a little Arthur Brown. Opeth are not a band I would describe as bombastic usually, but parts of the first track are - and this vibe continues on into §2, which segues from the previous song thanks to a lengthy and warm-sounding keyboard passage from Joakim Svalberg. The second track kicks off in heavy mode, though, with a big drum barrage from Väyrynen which gives way to some snarling mid-paced riffing from Åkerfeldt and Fredrik Åkesson - over which the former growls in his usual venomous manner. The bombast is maintained, though, by a strange arrangement, which first sees Åkerfeldt then singing in a whisper above some retro synths - before possibly the album's most memorable passage kicks in, which sees Anderson speaking in his idiosyncratic manner against a chugging backdrop, whilst Joey Tempest (Europe) adds some dramatic and almost operatic backing vocals. Opeth have done nothing like this before, and the heaviness then kicks back in with more growls and a fast-paced, shredded solo. The overall arrangement is absolutely bonkers, and this does not even take into account the electric piano led-section later on - which morphs back into Anderson's monologue perfectly, before a faster-paced retro prog section sees the song out.

I am not sure that the album is ever quite as bombastic again, but plenty of twists and turns remain - with §3 opening is a busy fashion with some Ghost Reveries-esque heavy riffing, whilst dancing strings (arranged by Dave Stewart (Gong; Khan; Hatfield and the North; National Health; Bruford)) and Svalberg's keyboards create a tense backing. Whilst the song can be pretty heavy musically, though, it is sung clean throughout - and Åkerfeldt continues to showcase that he is not just one of the best growlers in the business but also one of the best clean singers. His voice always carries the emotion of whatever song he is singing perfectly - so he brings the album's story to life with his diverse delivery. This song is pretty wordy despite it also being pretty busy from an instrumental perspective. There is a lot going on, then, and the overall pace is pretty upbeat. Väyrynen seems to have given the band a boost, and his drumming really leads the charge on this song in particularly, whilst the duelling guitars of Åkerfeldt and Åkesson feel more potent here than they have done for a while. The song has a real urgency to it, despite the endless swirling keyboard backing, which recalls some of the more hard rock-adjacent parts of Ghost Reveries nicely. That album is brought to mind a lot thanks to the slightly reduced role that the keyboards play here compared to the last few albums. Svalberg is still all over this album, but he takes more of a supporting role this time - with the guitars instead generally dominating. This is certainly the case with §4, which maintains the pace of the previous song but injects back in the harsh vocals which were absent from it. The early part of the song does have some of the bombast which was heard earlier, but it is perhaps less circus-like - with the early back-and-forth between clean and harsh vocals setting a disturbing tone, under which Anderson's spoken word additions can sometimes be heard. Delicate acoustic guitar passages break up the heaviness, and one of the album's most memorable instrumental passages is included here, too, with Anderson picking up his flute and adding some bouncy melodies in his inimitable and trill-heavy style against a pulsing bassline and some aching guitar leads - which then morph into a cinematic guitar solo which sits atop other heavy guitars and growling keyboards. The band's heavier side then dominates the second half of the track - both vocally and musically. There are lots more growls during the last couple of minutes, plus the instrumental passages have an evil edge to them thanks to spiky guitar tones and cold keyboards. §5 tones things down somewhat, at least at first, and opens with some shimmering keyboards - before Åkerfeldt starts to sing against a jazzy drum groove which weaves acoustic guitar passages around it. There is plenty of the last few albums within this part of the album, then, and there is a strong organic feel thanks to the use of strings and the acoustic guitars - but there are very short bursts of heaviness, which see seconds of harsh vocals and big riffing acting as punctuation to this sound. Eastern-tinged melodies are used throughout the song, too, with a brief guitar solo channelling such - before a heavier sound takes over in a much more complete way with some busy bass drum work and a distorted organ backing. Brief moments of bombast return here, too, with Åkerfeldt singing clean against Queen-esque strings during a brief moment of calm in the heaviness of the song's second half.

§6 opens with the growing buzz of Svalberg's organ, which swells into view against a jazzy drum beat, over which brash guitar chords are soon laid - and the organ takes off, along with some strings, to create a melodic intro. Following the heaviness of much of the previous song, particularly its second half, this track is another which feels more akin to the band's last few albums than anything tougher. There is a much more organic feel here, with Svalberg perhaps playing a much bigger role this time - even during the heavier sections. Åkerfeldt does growl during the song, but his clean vocals dominate - and musically the track never feels all that metallic. There is a strong hard rock feel throughout, even during the growling sections, and it is great hearing Åkerfeldt growl against a snarling organ backing. The song also contains one of the best pure prog solo moments, too, which starts with Svalberg laying down a flashy synth run before a shredded guitar solo takes over. It is pure prog expressionism, but it works well in the context of the song - suiting the 1970s rock sound and the excellent vocals of Åkerfeldt. There are heavy moments, then, but the song does not sound particularly metallic despite the growls - and there is also one of the album's spaciest moments at the end which sees some bluesy guitar leads sitting nicely against an acoustic guitar and synth backing. §7, the last song of the story's bulk, immediately sounds heavier, with some staccato guitar stabs and more hard-hitting drumming - but the retro vibe of the previous song remains with lashings of organ. Åkerfeldt's early vocals are sung falsetto, though, and there is no real kick in from the band despite the early stabbings - and soon Anderson's flute takes over and he delivers some more of his monologue. The song moves back and forth between these storytelling moments, which are dominated by Anderson vocally and musically, albeit with some delicate piano at times, whilst other sections roar with old-school heaviness and some more growls. There is a lot of heaviness throughout the song, then, despite these moments of calm and stark coldness - and it is the last song where which feels in any way hard-hitting. The last of the growls are heard here, and there are plenty of them - with one particularly memorable section featuring Åkerfeldt growling against a synth melody. The song then fades out slowly, with gothic strings and a mid-paced drum groove, and it feels as if the album is going to end - only for it to transition slowly into A Story Never Told, which acts as a coda. Deliberately very different from the rest of the album, the song is very sparse - and reminds me a bit of the sound of 2003's Damnation. Delicate guitar melodies open the track up - but generally this is quite a piano-heavy piece, with Åkerfeldt generally singing against Svalberg's piano melodies, although the band do add some weight and tight vocal harmonies during some sections. Occasional flute additions add depth, too, and there is a surprising amount going on despite the sparse nature of the piece. It lacks the bombast and heaviness of the rest of the album, but this works well in my opinion as it somewhat sits apart from the main story of the album despite it being tied in. It feels like a post-credits scene, then, and I like the laid back approach taken and the delicate piano melodies throughout. There is a warmth to the song which is not generally present elsewhere - and I think it ends the album on a real high due to how different it is. Taken as a whole, then, The Last Will and Testament is excellent. I think that, in time, it will likely be viewed as one of the band's true masterpieces - and the fusion of various facets of their sound works so well. It is one of 2024's best releases, that is certain, and the buzz around it has certainly helped to bring Opeth back into the limelight once again.

The album was released on 22nd November 2024 via Reigning Phoenix Music. Below is the band's promotional lyric video for §4.