There is an oft repeated theme among certain of our favorite bands, one which usually occurs with the longer tenured collectives in the world of heavy metal music. That is, simply put, massive stylistic change, and the huge effect it can have on a fan base. There are many who gave up on Liverpool's ephemeral and restless Anathema, a band who took its first breaths amid a surge of English doom metal circa 1990. Falling off along the way, whether it was due to an initial transition to clean vocals and goth metal with those well-placed touches of Pink Floyd, or the more pronounced excursion into alternative, Radiohead-esque territory, Anathema nevertheless gained a host of new fans for each one it lost.
They have never been afraid to let themselves grow and morph. Two decades and nine studio albums later, the chrysalis of that period of experimentation has split and fallen away. Emerging out of the rough-edged husk of lineup changes and label unrest – including a six year gap (2003-2009) between releases – is a sonic butterfly of such boundless magic and beauty that its difficult to imagine Anathema haven't always sounded like this.
The past two releases, 2012's Weather Systems and 2010's We're Here Because We're Here, catapulted them into a stratosphere seldom occupied by anyone, in any genre of music. We, the jaded cynics, devouring music like termites in a fallen oak know this type of magic can't go on forever. Like a sports team, how long can they go on running tops on all cylinders? The numerically monumental tenth album is on the horizon. Entitled Distant Satellites, can it deliver the way its two predecessors have? Can it eclipse or even equal the majesty we've come to expect from the Cavanagh brothers?
In similar fashion to their last album, Anathema's Distant Satellites begins with the first two tracks bearing the same name, distinguished by 'Part 1' and 'Part 2.' "The Lost Song; Part 1" begins in an upbeat fashion, at once enveloping the listener in that mix of progressive styling, infusing piano and the lovely backing vocals of Lee Douglas to give even more emotion to the voice of Vincent Cavanagh.
And there we come to it. As far as vocalists go there are many good ones, many mediocre ones, but only a few can be labeled as truly elite. I'm not necessarily talking about range or skill. Vincent Cavanagh has those in spades…what I am talking about is effect. The man's voice takes you outside of yourself. It's an instrument in its own right, brimming with gravity and light, sorrow and joy. The first song is amazing; layers of guitar and piano build up, while a backdrop of keyboard effects a la Dream Theater buoys it even further. But it is Vincent's voice that will engrave this song on your heart. His ability to transcend the lyrics and add his own impeccable meaning with his singing is second to none.
Just like with the last album, the 'Part 2' song "The Lost Song: Part 2" allows Lee Douglas to take center-stage as a vocalist. Throw out every pop singer and three quarters of every so-called singer/songwriter female voice you've heard on the big radio stations, or any of these silly reality "talent" shows. The woman who was asked to join the band simply because she sang so sweetly while doing the damn dishes back in the day gives Anathema something very few bands possess. Not one but two breathtaking singers, and she navigates the more ballad-y 'Part 2' with emotion and confidence, making for a sublime listen that will reward fans for . . . well, forever actually.
"Dusk (Dark is Descending)" blends the two singers' efforts, as we see Anathema once again beginning a song in a more rock-oriented, metallic fashion and building it up through a conflation of voice and keys into a magnificent crescendo. With a keen instinct for dynamics, the void after such a climactic song is gently filled by effortless piano and Lee's voice caressing the ears. Like water gently filling a parched stream bed, "Ariel" accomplishes what many ballads set out to do and fail with ease and triumph. Vincent joins in about three minutes in, amid an updraft of orchestral accompaniment, transporting us from mere ballad to a rock-solid hallelujah of progressive metal rife with stunning keys over top and underneath. It is pure bliss.
[youtube]http://youtu.be/q2bwKAPgsyA[/youtube]
Lo and behold, there is a "Lost Song: Part 3" lurking mid-track listing. It is a dreamlike song, moving like sunlight over water, held down by a quick bass and drum interplay, over top of which the Cavanagh/Douglas voice duo shines once more. Lie back, put on the headphones, and be captured in their net of emotion. Anathema shows their penchant for how they can take a repeating set of riffs and notes and coax so much more out of it. If this song was a plot of barren soil, when Anathema gets done with it you would be looking at a yield of crops more bountiful than Eden. It's that good.
"Anathema," piano laden and orchestral, is a clear retrospective on the unlikely and baffling journey undertaken by three brothers, a duo of siblings, and a host of other musicians who spent time in the sometimes tenuous, always moving basement of Anathema. Before you can blink, one of Daniel Cavanagh's angelic guitar solos is deployed amid a rising swirl of orchestral goodness. When words fail, there's always a Danny Cavanagh guitar solo to assuage us. A song like this also makes you hope Anathema employ a live violinist some time in the future. Paging Dave Pybus. . . Dave Pybus anyone?
One of the hallmarks of Anathema's message over the past several years has been the concept of hope. Hope in the face of the overwhelming apathy and helplessness engendered by the sometimes freezing cold world around us. "You're Not Alone" is a heavy, almost dissonant song, certainly one of the stoniest songs they've written in quite some time. Over this raucous three and a half minutes you'll find some programmed beats, feedback, and electronically modified vocals. As stated earlier, Anathema is not afraid of experimentation. Ironic that the most uncomfortable sounding song on the album has perhaps the most comforting message in its depths.
The next song begins with a church-organ type note reminiscent of 1970's Floyd, accentuating the jarring nature of the previous song. Called "Firelight," it is an interlude perhaps meant to create separation between "You're Not Alone" and the title track. "Distant Satellites" begins with more programmed beats. Vincent's voice echoes outward, bringing his ethereal beauty to a song that lives somewhere in the world of a more rock-based Enigma, or a traditionally sung, more straightforward Massive Attack. Please do not let this deter you, loyal readers. Anathema are one of the few bands who can navigate such disparate styling in their music. With the precision of perfection and genius on their side, one has little to fear. Vincent Cavanagh could sing nursery rhymes and make them epic; electro/industrial elements he can, and does, competently manage. Halfway through, the vocals drop out and the beat picks up. Along with some natural drumming and a lilting piano, other sound effects swirl into a maelstrom of dance rhythms that Moby would be proud of. Vincent's voice comes back in toward the end to take the song home.
Only Anathema could or would have a song like this be the title track of one of their albums, and damned if it doesn't all come together in sweet, sweet harmony. The album concludes with "Take Shelter." A soft ride upon clouds of sound and nary a sign of percussion, it blends some computerized sounds with muted piano and of course, Vincent's brilliant vocals. The Radiohead influence is clear with this track. As we approach the 3:00 minute mark, programmed beats come in and jiggle the song into something more upbeat. What keeps one from wondering if the industrial elements will overpower is the inevitable surge of orchestral harmonies and natural drums which uplift it. Again a triumph, again a crescendo of sound and magnificence virtually unrivaled in most of rock music, and perhaps in all of metal. The more I listen to Anathema the more I want them to do something with Devin Townsend, because in describing the effect the music of Distant Satellites has on the listener, one is reminded of the Canadian juggernaut and his own fearless delving into sound and emotion. With this new album, Anathema proves once again that their stellar level of creation is still roaring forth, unabated, unrestrained, and showing no signs of drying up anytime soon.
