Live Review: Opeth - Albert Hall, Manchester
1st March 2025
Support: Grand Magus
Words: Dan Barnes
Photos: Rich Price
There’s something wholly fitting about Opeth playing their The Last Will and Testament show at Manchester’s Albert Hall. Built in 1908 in a neo-Baroque style, with simple stained-glass windows flanking either side of the concert hall and, behind the stage, huge organ pipes remind all-comers that this place was designed for Methodist worship.
The location seems to mirror the themes and atmosphere of the band’s fantastic latest record, the early twentieth century setting and the understated Edwardian grandeur of this venue, reflecting the austere subject matter; it as though a higher power, either God Himself, or the deceased patriarchal Godhead figure of Opeth’s tale is looking down on the performance.
But first comes support band – and fellow Swedes – Grand Magus, making this show a lite-version of Bloodstock 2024’s opening day. Where Opeth have nuance and atmospherics, Magus have sheer brute force in the unerring pursuit of being the most Metal three-piece not to be called either Motörhead or Venom.
I, the Jury kicks things off with thunderous riffing and a fat low end; JB is wearing his sunglasses, even though the weather on this St David’s day in Manchester is distinctly mheh, but no one really cares as he and rhythm section, Fox and Ludde, kick up a storm.
Skybound and Sunraven come from their most recent – and tenth – album and Untamed from the preceding one, but whether it’s newbies or old favourites, the result is still a mass of bobbing heads and pumping fists. Ravens Guide Our Way is directed by a thumping bassline, Like the Oar Strikes the Water makes me think of Robert Eggers’ The Northman and, on the penultimate night of the tour, Hammer of the North becomes a rallying cry for the gathered Manchester hordes, the singalong woo-whoos going on even after the band have finished.
Even Mikael admits The Last Will and Testament Tour is a stripped back version of the usual eye-popping visuals of a normal Opeth show; but the nature of the new record suits the more sombre approach, the sepia’d lights and simple illuminations appropriate for the evening.
Unfortunately, we don’t get the new record in full, instead we get fifty percent of it – the York Notes if you will – the important story beats and the more instantly accessible musical moments. Opening with §1 it’s clear that the weeks on the road have ingrained the new numbers into the muscle memory. Opeth are never anything other than tight as a drum, virtuoso in their playing and maverically creative in their composition.
Master’s Apprentice takes us back to the early millennium, when the band were carving their own niche through the shifting sands of the extreme music scene. The Leper Affinity growls while delivering the lush, abrasive melodies only Opeth can truly deliver.
§7 is the second newbie of the night – the reading of the Patriarch’s will and the revelation of his secret (imagine a dramatic dum-dum-dum here); sprinkled with Joakim’s jazzy keys and an ethereal ambience, all the while Waltteri’s drums mark the inexorable march of time.
But what’s an Opeth show with Mikael’s random asides and tonight is no different. From wearing hats, to how you look in photographs when headbanging, to the band Chicago, and using his Rock Star influence to get a Glasgow record shop owner to open his store for the band on a Sunday, Mikael is, as always, the most genial of hosts. The heckling is at a minimum and he rarely engages, but some are amusing and get a chuckle from those in the vicinity.
In demonstrating his new phaser pedal, Mikael plays the first three notes of Shine on You Crazy Diamond, getting the crowd excited for a cover; instead, he tells the Albert Hall that the band were going to play “one of their own shit songs”.
Don’t think Opeth possess such a song and the following Häxprocess certainly doesn’t meet that description, infused it is with Seventies progressive and jazz elements. A consideration of the Nineties Death Metal scene and Opeth’s place in it leads to a cover of Napalm Death’s You Suffer, but with the lyric changed to Wonderwall in honour of being in Manchester; though Mikael does admit You Suffer is from the Eighties.
Voices are raised for In My Time of Need, the epic The Night and the Silent Water from he band’s dark 1996 sophomore release, Morningrise, is an unexpected inclusion for this tour; the tragic events of §3 means both guitarists have to tune down and then back up again during the song, leaving Ghost of Perdition and Last Will…’s coda, A Story Never Told, to close out the main set, Fredrik’s solo lifting the whole thing to new heights.
Those jazz influences combine with meaty chugs for the first encore, Sorceress, and the night ends with the now obligatory finale of Deliverance.
That a band, thirty-years and fourteen albums into their career can be consistently this good and improving like a fine wine seems to defy all odds; yet the evidence, ladies and gentlemen, is before us. Their continual evolution allows them to dip back into their own gene-pool and explore ideas thought perhaps long dormant. Yet that’s only a part of the story.
That they are a mighty fine live band who, even stripped back, put on a heck of a show is what keeps us coming back time and again. Until next time, lads!
Photo Credits: Rich Price Photography
