IHSAHN has an a-ha moment.
Pharos CANDLELIGHT/SPINEFARM
Melodic magnificence from Norway’s chief maverick IF THE PURSUIT
of beauty doesn’t seem to be a particularly metal occupation, it’s only because we spend so much time listening to music that revels in aggression, ugliness and darkness. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course, but if the steady rise of progressive ideals in heavy music proves anything, it’s that people genuinely do enjoy some light with their shade. Ihsahn knows this better than most, having amassed an extraordinary catalogue of solo albums over the last 15 years, every one of which has offered as much finesse, elegance and melodic refinement as it has riff-driven intensity. Pharos is undoubtedly the zenith of those more restrained musical urges, as Ihsahn explores the mellower, more overtly melodic side of his songwriting. It won’t surprise diehard supporters to learn that it’s absolutely glorious.
The flipside to the monstrous and subtly subversive Telemark, released earlier this year, Pharos is another five-track EP featuring three brand new songs and two covers. The three originals are uniformly stunning. Losing Altitude is a sublime progressive pop ballad with a dark underbelly; Spectre At The Feast is a stately, dark rock reverie with a chorus so rich in melody and detail that it will have sensitive fans blubbering into their Opeth facemasks; the title track is a haunted waltz through twinkling orchestral mist and ominous post-metal fog, with Ihsahn’s vocals a multi-layered but intangible focal point. Jaw-dropping, the whole lot of ’em.
Meanwhile, where the last EP hailed Iron Maiden and, erm, Lenny Kravitz, Pharos offers Ihsahn’s takes on trip hop icons Portishead’s Roads and, most brilliantly of all, A-ha’s epically weird 1987 hit, Manhattan Skyline.
The former is a masterclass in ghostly atmosphere, as Ihsahn employs a fragile falsetto to bring the song’s vexed sentiment to life anew; the latter is an extremely impressive, note-perfect recreation of the original, to such an extent that it’s not entirely clear whether it’s guest vocalist Einar Solberg singing or, you know, actual Morten Harket. Either way it makes total sense here: a strange, angular storm of melody, artfully reimagined by a musician whose ability to transform, flourish and fascinate remains as powerful as ever. ■■■■■■■■■■
FOR FANS OF: Opeth, Ulver, Katatonia
DOM LAWSON