Norway’s Leprous have conjured up several exceptionally morose yet symphonic and impassioned progressive metal odysseys over the past few years (including 2019’s Pitfalls and 2021’s Aphelion). Led by frontman Einar Solberg’s operatic singing and gloomy sentiments, the quintet never fails to deliver lusciously evocative and temperamental compositions fueled by intoxicating introspections.
Their latest sequence, Memories of Atonement, certainly earns its place within their esteemed catalog, but compared to its predecessors, it’s at least a bit less memorable and impactful. Even so, it’s far from a disappointment since it still packs the hefty emotional and musical punches that’ve been captivating fans since Leprous first broke onto the scene with 2009’s Tall Poppy Syndrome.
According to Solberg, the album began gestating in March 2023, and a major goal was “to remove all the orchestral elements and focus everything more around the actual members of the band.” He adds:
It’s a change of path in Leprous for sure. The goal was to be more straight to the point and more pure, in a way, to emphasise our qualities more by adding less. . . . It’s kind of heavier [than Aphelion] in its own way, and it’s very modern sounding and not retro at all. It has a lot of electronic elements. It’s heavy, it’s catchy, and there are a lot of songs that could potentially work as singles. I’m not sure it’s very prog . . . maybe a little here and there, but in general, not a lot of odd time signatures on this one. It’s more heavy than proggy, but not in that standard heavy way.
To his point, Memories of Atonement is consistently direct and abrasive, but with the tenderness and succulence Leprous are known for. “Silently Walking Alone” immediately establishes the brooding tone of the record with its electronic foundation, subtle strings, piercing instrumentation, thunderous bellows, and defiant declarations (“Running up the slope to fight / With flashbacks from the night / To where I was born in guilt / Where every brick was built”). It’s not quite the melodic powerhouse that prior openers such as “Running Low” and “Below” were, but it’s a damn strong way to start all the same.
That blunt aggression carries over to most of the subsequent pieces. In classic fashion, Solberg’s multilayered falsetto outcries help pacify the otherwise confrontational and hectic “Atonement,” whereas “Limbo” is toweringly gruff but also faintly playful, danceable, and funky. Admittedly, “Faceless” and closer “Starlight” are blander by comparison, but their sheer ferocity keeps them engaging and commendable.
Naturally, the band scatter a lot of softer passages into their hostile hodgepodges, and it’s always to great effect. In particular, “My Specter” unfolds like a bittersweet jigsaw puzzle comprised of cathartic admissions (“I don’t have to atone / For the sins you have grown / Tonight, solution is in sight”) alongside an eerily plaintive and quiet arrangement. Afterward, “Like a Sunken Ship” juxtaposes that same sort of wonderfully cold meditative tranquility with djent-like outbursts and denseness, and as its name suggests, the penultimate “Self-Satisfied Lullaby” is mostly a poignant and soothing dip into heavenly harmonies and haunting ambience. It’s a brilliantly sophisticated composition that holds you in its grip until the very end.
That Memories of Atonement falls marginally short of – at the very least – Pitfalls and Aphelion is more of a testament to their greatness than it is a knock against Leprous’ latest LP. On its own, Memories of Atonement is quite moving and dynamic, and it houses just about everything that’s made the group virtually unrivalled at what they do. It’s just that all those elements yielded slightly stronger results in the past. Nevertheless, Memories of Atonement will undoubtedly satisfy Leprous fans and be regarded as another superb collection that further solidifies the quintet’s stylistic hegemony.
