By Benjamin Leatherman
By Glenn BurnSilver
By Glenn BurnSilver
By Troy Farah
By Roger Calamaio
By Mark Deming
By Glenn BurnSilver
By Brian Palmer
"I painted a pickguard on that guitar so it looked like an electric," he laughs.
For those familiar with Opeth's music, however, Åkerfeldt's reaction may seem surprising, considering how prominently classical stylings feature in the Swedish death metal outfit's approach, which pushes the limits of how mellow metal can get and still be considered brutal, even when measured against other experimental and prog-oriented death metal bands. Åkerfeldt was open to different styles at a young age and felt drawn to highly complex music, but it would take him many moons to discover classical guitar. Nonetheless, his grandmother's day of vindication eventually came when Åkerfeldt began putting his listeners in the same position she had put him. Looking back, her gift choice appears prophetic because one can barely imagine Opeth without its trademark gentle passages.
"I was always into good guitar players and always into a diverse way of playing the guitar," he recalls. "I remember, like for the Metallica stuff, I liked their calmer songs. Sepultura's second album (Schizophrenia) had a classical piece on there ("Inquisition Symphony"), and I thought, 'Wow, that was really cool,' to have a brutal band like that that also had a musicality which went beyond metal."
Åkerfeldt, who is self-taught, eventually started trying to pick his way through those guitar parts, as well as things like the Stanley Myers/John Williams piece "Cavatina," the theme from The Deer Hunter.
"That style eventually found its way into Opeth once I was good enough to play it," he explains. "In the early '90s, after school, I started working in a guitar store and we only sold acoustic guitars. So, when we didn't have any customers, I developed a lot of my finger-picking."
It may have taken him a while, but when Åkerfeldt finally turned to that style, he dove in. Metal bands have opened albums with acoustic intros for decades, but Opeth has taken the concept to the next level more than once. 2003's Damnation, for example, consists entirely of softer music, while Opeth's latest album, Watershed, opens with "Coil," a lilting acoustic-based number with clean vocals and an almost hippie vibe that goes on for nearly three minutes before the heavier, more ominous music slams in. "Coil" exemplifies how willing Opeth is to test the patience of its audience, which is ironic because death metal bands tend to push audiences by increasing the harshness and extremity in their playing. Opeth requires the opposite kind of endurance.
Åkerfeldt insists that he doesn't feel confined by people perceiving Opeth as a death metal band.
"We are, in many ways, still a death metal band," he says. "Our roots are from that style of music. Many of our songs also have a strong death metal influence, of course — but many of our songs don't have a metal influence at all. To be honest, though, I'm happy when people call us death metal, because it's some kind of acknowledgement of sticking to our roots."
That may be so, but Åkerfeldt and company have shown little regard for the rigid definitions of what death metal is supposed to be. As far back as the band's second album, 1996's Morningrise, Opeth began working with epic songs filled with parts that, given where death metal was at the time, sound audaciously gentle. And Åkerfeldt has only gotten more daring from there, pushing Opeth into new terrain with each successive release. As a young listener, in fact, Åkerfeldt rejected heaviness for its own sake. While his death metal peers were tripping out to Venom and Celtic Frost, for example, Åkerfeldt had a strong negative reaction, calling their music "shit." (He has since become a Celtic Frost fan.) He looked for — and strove to create — heaviness and a sense of brutality in music while indulging his taste for progressive rock. In love with the music of the Scorpions and David Coverdale, Åkerfeldt would go on to become an avid fan of Joni Mitchell, vintage psychedelic rock, and free jazz. Opeth, he explains, draws heavily from non-metal influences, but they emerge in the music in ways not even he can trace.
At the time he and the band were putting Watershed together, Åkerfeldt was discovering the classic psychedelic band the Zombies ("Time of the Season"). The album also bears a significant influence from vocalist Scott Walker, a crooner whose work falls as far from metal as you can get yet radiates a profoundly disturbed aura that Åkerfeldt finds irresistible.
"I discovered him through a friend of mine. I was working in a music store at the time, and he put on an old '60s record by him, Scott 3, that I was just blown away by," Åkerfeldt says. "I'd never really listened to crooners, and that record had these really eerie-sounding strings. Later on, I found out that he put out a record in the '90s called Tilt, and noticed that he was going in a darker direction. Once The Drift (2006) came out, I was shocked. I'd never heard anything like that. I'm very jaded with contemporary music, so I need something like that in order to get excited. I don't really listen to newer metal bands. That album changed my world. It's fairly unlistenable, and you have to be in the right state of mind to enjoy it."
Likewise, Åkerfeldt doesn't mind making his audience have to work to get into Opeth's groove.
"You don't start your metal voyage with Opeth," he offers with a laugh. "Many people do, but it's probably better if you end up with Opeth. It's not an instant affection for many people. We play shows and we see people yawning and looking tired. If you're into brutal death metal and that's it, then maybe we're not the band for you — but if you're into music overall, I think there's a good chance you might find something in our music that you'd like."