Sleep Token ‘Even In Arcadia’
This is emotion. Every note played, every word sung, every nuance. It is all emotion. The emotion of being broken. The emotion of being ripped apart, spat out, and not knowing how you ended up here.
It is the soundtrack to the dark parts of your soul, that long to be understood, be heard, be loved. The parts you expose only behind closed doors.
The album is the anaesthetic that numbs you to the outside world. The anaesthetic that allows you to slip into the music like warm bath water and let go. This album is more than just music; it is medication for the soul.
Sleep Token are the hottest band in the world currently. From their hidden imaginary to expansive soundscapes, they have become a phenomenon that transcends genres and mere words to be boxed in. With their fourth album Even In Arcadia, they have created a collection of songs, or short stories rather, that caresses parts of your soul other bands just cannot.
Opener Look To Windward, a crying refrain of ‘will you haunt this eclipse in me?’ repeats over an 80’s computer console rhythm. Cries haunt underneath as a story of waking up on a shoreline, coughing up blood is recounted. The build-up before the insanity of catharsis is only part of the story as Vessel vocals that take on an other world.
Musically, Sleep Token bring what worked previously. Keys, orchestration, deep harmonies, heavy riffs. Lyrically though, they unmask themselves, exposing something raw, tender, and bleeding. This isn’t an album of songs; it’s an aura that envelops you, holds you tight, and says it’s okay.
Emergence mixed hip hop with soaring melodies and a saxophone solo as Vessel asks ‘will you wrap your arms around me?’
Music like raindrops floods the speakers during Past Self as ‘nothing is the same, something has to change’ repeats.
The core intensity behind the sentimental lyrics is grief. Horrific, gut-wrenching grief. ‘Show me how to dance’ from Dangerous or the Caramel line of ‘I thought I got better, but maybe I didn’t. The music is at one with Vessel’s voice.
The title track could be confused for a movie score; the haunting piano, the inspiring orchestra, and tales of paying penance in time for judgement day while asking whether you’ve been waiting, will speak to listeners in beautiful disquietude.
Despite such depth lyrically so far, Damocles is piano-led and a different type of Hollywood movie score. The simple rhymes work so smoothly it’s almost uplifting and cheery.
With Gethsemane, though, the mood and sound darken as the slow, deep, and hard groove of guitars matches the content of a toxic relationship with a harlequin bride. Vessel’s vocals are angelic, a surprising highlight in an album of highlights.
Sleep Token have brought something different to this album, something mesmerising that burrows deep into your most hidden places. Something that is more than music. More than an album. They have performed the soundtrack to your soul.
Album Review By Iain McCallum
