Taking a page out of TOOL's playbook, Karnivool truncated a whopping 13-year void of no album releases with their latest full-length, "In Verses," released back in February via Cymatic Records. There is always an unneglectable degree of risk, which builds over an interval of time between records – a lot can change in the span of a decade, from the general tastes of the populace to the very way music itself is consumed (as we've seen with the jump to reel-style content a la TikTok). Karnivool has had a decorated discography stemming as far back as 2005, coming out the gate with what is still their most-streamed song, "Themata." They continued to prove themselves as progressive metal mavericks, rounding out the decade with "Sound Awake" and kicking off the next with "Asymmetry." Their contributions to the musical zeitgeist became a primary influence for other notable bands within their genre, including several members of Periphery, as I vividly recall from a meet-and-greet discussion I sat in on before a show. The longest duration in between albums before now was a mere four years, which is not too atypical of an album cycle, especially for this genre, where many musicians will take the time to perfect each detail, down to the nearly imperceptible. After more than triple that time, fans and critics alike had predictably high expectations for a band that helped shape a genre.
Oftentimes, critics will diagnose the evolution (or devolution) of a particular band's sound as becoming more "musically mature" compared to their early work. Many artists will even willingly self-proclaim this notion as a badge of honor, attempting to convince a skeptical audience that their upcoming material has shed the antics of old in favor of a more refined, serious sound. However, all too often bands will shave off the very elements that gave them their niche in the first place, resulting in a production lacking overall ingenuity, deep purpose, exciting flair, and/or vivid color. "In Verses" had every potential to fall into that trap, especially with how much musicians are likely to change and mature in their respective characters over such a sizeable chunk of their lives. To the delight of fans worldwide, Karnivool found what many consider to be a perfect balance of their trademark early-2000s sound and a well-seasoned musicianship, reflecting years of growth, both as instrumentalists and as individuals. They never lost the grit and experimentation they've had since the beginning, but it now requires you to meet them halfway while listening.
The bite is not as sharp, nor is it on the surface like their early records, but rather blended in with subtlety and richness, showcasing their commitment to making music that is interactive, encouraging you to put the puzzle pieces together under their supervision. "In Verses" invites listeners to read between the lines and dive into a deeper section of the waters than they've ventured before, all while providing a familiar and nostalgic environment to keep them from feeling out of place. It is a great example of what musical maturity should be, sacrificing nothing and instead germinating new flora from the seeds of progenitors. This record breathes, but not so much so that it gets complacent or lackadaisical. It is sure of itself and requires no external validation with its messaging, both sonically, lyrically, and conceptually. It is the embodiment of the years of fruition it took to write, flowering with intention from beginning to end.
If there was one thing I would encourage with this album, it would be to not listen to it passively. "In Verses" is a cascading tunnel to enter into and not look back once you do. The world outside its walls has no bearing on the experience you are to embark on once you cross the threshold that it beckons you past. Everything needed to fully embrace what it has to offer and where it leads is sourced internally, should you allow it in and allow it to inundate you. It will weave a tale out of the very road it lays out for you and out of the cylindrical archway that encompasses you. All it asks of you is to trust it; explore it with curiosity and abandon without anxiously needing an exit. It is a raw, human experience derived from the minds and souls of artisans who have found a way to wield sound as magic for the purpose of conveying, relating, and connecting that which appeals to and resonates with whoever will truly listen and not just hear.
From a technical standpoint, this is some of Karnivool's most interesting and memorable work. The melodiousness does not sacrifice purpose in its pursuit of memorability. With each passing year, I find it becoming less and less common to encounter proprietary writing that champions both nuance and subtlety while staying the course throughout and not caving to popular demand. We, as listeners, should embolden artists who are capable of doing more with less, who build outwardly throughout the quiet details within their art. To me, this is an element that defines maturity rather than what typically happens as bands grow and age. The exterior of "In Verses," as important as it is, houses another dimension within it for those who are patient enough, curious enough, and aware enough to explore it. You may find yourself singing along to earworm choruses, only to pause and think about the words you are proclaiming with each verse. The note choices are enough to give you fulfilling goosebumps one minute and evoke uncertainty the next. Guitar solos (and even a bagpipes solo at the end of the album) reward you with climactic and satisfying displays of musical mastery that you can lose yourself in. The various backbeats and percussive patterns take contemporary tempos and rearrange them, manipulating them like clay, without being distracting or unbecoming. Vocally, both the lyrics and the notes themselves are right in the room with you, bending and wielding a captivating aroma of emotive concepts that are all too rarely ever visited elsewhere.
Aside from being musically mature, I would label "In Verses" as being authentically and unabashedly human in nature while embodying much about human nature. This era of their discography is akin to how wine first starts as a vineyard. Karnivool developed, in parallel, the breadth of their musicianship along with their philosophy of conscious reality, which needed these many long years to ferment and produce, requiring an inexorable patience and commitment to their craft and to themselves. In a world of instant gratification and fervent incessancy, "In Verses" challenges the status quo and rewards those who give it their full focus, especially through the undulating dynamics as the tunnel twists, tricks, refracts, and alludes. Through it all, it anchors you to a set of tracks that objectively will not let you derail – over time, it begins gaining your trust, unraveling your nerves, synchronizing your synapses, and eventually stabilizing you once again in ways that couldn't be done outside those tunnel walls.
There's a wynorrific presence that manifests throughout this album, destitute, but not overwhelmingly so. The grayscale gradient has a kaleidoscope of its own, one that accents and underlines textures usually lost in the traditional palettes we are used to but so desperately crave because they are real and mean something. It sinks a serrated edge deeper into the cut-out, carved-up, and "shadowed" aspects of our psyches in a way that is so delicious you can't help but flick your tongue and lick up the blood dripping down from the sides. It's both an escape and the turmoil you run from, a diametric dichotomy that dances with you as an aberrant lover whom you're begging yourself to trust.
It challenges you to build your own experience with the materials it gives you but keeps blueprints within reach, just in case. There's something we long for when we embark on long night drives, gaze out into an impending storm, or become enveloped by morning fog. This album taps into a peculiar part of ourselves that wants us to relinquish the predictable and idyllic and instead embrace the cold comforts of abandoning it all and opting for a fresh start. "In Verses" is the rainy day you're secretly waiting for, so you don't have to justify devoting time to the book you want to read. It is the barren carcass of a forest stripped bare of all but ash after a fire. It is the cathartic weeping of acceptance. The tunnel it guides you through only allows for an exit once you stop looking for one.
FFO: The Ocean, Dead Letter Circus, Thrice, Textures, The Butterfly Effect, Caligula's Horse, Audioslave, Leprous, Intronaut, Soen
