With a highly-anticipated new album due on the 22nd of November, there’s little introduction required for a progressive metal institution like Opeth. But on the eve of new material, I’m casting my ears back 25 years to the release that established these Swedes as one of the greatest bands in metal. I’ve loved most styles of Opeth and count a number of their records among my favorites ever. But, gun to my head, Still Life is at the top of my list. Is it the stylistic apex of their career? Possibly not; the mercurial Ghost Reveries represents the logical conclusion of their discography up to that point, seamlessly blending all facets of their sound that permeated their first decade of releases.
So why is it Still Life that sticks with me? It falls in the middle of Opeth’s progression from inception to apex and marks the start of what most fans would consider their classic run. As such, it finds itself stretched in two directions. While lesser bands would be pulled apart, what leaks out here is nothing but quality. The songwriting is smoother and more sophisticated than My Arms Your Hearse, while its rougher edge distinguishes it from the professional, Steven Wilson-backed production that defines Blackwater Park. In fact, the guitar tone here is the best in the Opeth catalog, rivaled only by Orchid. It’s this sweet spot—ornate, dynamic songs fused with death metal production and riffs—that encapsulates Still Life. Look no further than the multiplicitous, textured movement of “Serenity Painted Death.” As if its opening riff wasn’t good enough alone, the transitory passage that begins at 0:50, traversing a shredding lead, tempo shift, dramatic pause, and outrageous groove, demarcates a song of rare quality. And there are seven more minutes to follow, shuffling harmonized singing, delicate acoustics, and gripping story-telling.
Dynamic songwriting isn’t the only ‘best-in-catalog’ quality heard on Still Life. While the aforementioned groove excels, the first lead on “The Moor” and the guitars on the back half of “Face of Melinda” are worthy adversaries for some of the best riffs in metal. Meanwhile, the opening minutes of “The Moor” conjure the strongest atmosphere in the Opeth discography, with harmonized guitar whines and subtle acoustic melodies offering a mesmerizing introduction. “Face of Melinda” is my favorite Opeth track, bar none. It’s the archetypal Åkerfeldt tune, with spell-binding acoustic prettiness, poignant lyrics, and huge riffs. I wouldn’t like to guess how many times I’ve listened to it in total. But most of all, Still Life houses my favorite obscure progressive rock reference, in a band that’s famous for them. The acoustic lead on “Benighted,” while stunning, is a blatant rip-off from Camel’s “Never Let Go”.
I will also emphasize that although this piece has thus far cited examples from incredible songs, Still Life is an incredible album. While the individual melodies and instrumental parts that occupy these 62 minutes are excellent, it’s how these are woven into movements that eclipse the mere tracks that encase them. Still Life is symphonic in feel, compositionally closer to a classical symphony than an album of tracks. There’s a natural lilt in its progression, flowing within the seven songs, but more importantly, outside these seven songs too. It’s almost impossible for me to hit play from any point on the record and not then listen all the way through.
Romantics describe love at first sight; metalheads describe love at first listen. Opeth opened my ears to what was possible with music, and it was Still Life that opened my ears to Opeth. The completionism of Ghost Reveries engages my brain, but the aesthetic of Still Life engages my soul. There’s a big fat hole in the core of your being if you can’t engage with music like this. It’s what perfection sounds like.