There are few acts – not just in the UK but the world – that have as much mystery surrounding them as the mighty Sleep Token. Not only do we not know whoâs involved in the project beyond the fronting memberâs pseudonym – the enigmatic and sinister Vessel – but we also have no idea what to expect from their releases. Well, we know itâs going to be good, but in what way?
With material that ranges from downright cataclysmic to utterly tranquil, they dance between the two in such an unpredictable way that you never really know what step theyâre going to take next. 2020âs âSundowningâ saw them release the whole album one song at a time, slowly creating an entire body of work piece by piece. New album âThis Place Will Become Your Tombâ has been released far more traditionally, but the music encased within it is just as magical.
The three singles that have been dropped ahead of the release cover all the bases of what this record can do, and itâs full of variety. The ominous darkness swirling through âAlkalineâ, the emotionally volatile ticking time bomb âThe Love You Wantâ and the simple, majestic, Imogen Heap-like beauty of âFall For Meâ all represent three very different sides to this album, and the way the band glides between them is sublime.
Opening number âAtlanticâ sweeps in like a warm breeze, slowly evolving into a pulsating metal mammoth full of those towering low tones that made the previous record so beautifully crushing. Immediately following it is âHypnosisâ, easily becoming the heaviest track of the bands catalogue with its hammer-blow breakdowns and unsettling drones. âLike Thatâ is a groovy and terrifyingly low-tuned behemoth, bridging the gap between graceful harmony and pure evil-like childâs play. Sleep Token have taken the aspects that made the previous record and EPâs so powerful and tweaked them, and the resulting tightness is impossible to ignore.
Elsewhere in the record there are genuine unexpected surprises, if such a thing is even really possible with this band. âMineâ teeters on the edge of being a chilled, almost lo-fi pop track, where even the guitar stabs in the chorus donât take away from itâs fragility. âDistractionâ is a gigantic ballad, with pulsing synthwave vibes making Vesselâs painful vocal line, ââCause I am broken into fractionsâ hit just that little bit harder. Alongside tracks like the transcendent âTelomeresâ and the stunning album closer âMissing Limbsâ, this is yet another faultless demonstration of exactly why this band are so well-loved. Nobody else sounds like this.
The main musical developments here are the grasp on melody – which somehow has become even firmer than before – and the lyrical direction. Where the previous recordâs words had an air of reverence and devotion to them, this record feels a lot more intimate and personal, perhaps Vessel realising that they can explore their humanity while remaining faceless. When that honesty is combined with the surges of melody it makes for a far deeper connection, and the feeling it creates when listening is pure bliss.
Just like âSundowningâ, this album is a balancing act performed without even so much as a wobble. The shades of light and dark blur with one another at all the right times, cascading them in turn for the perfect amount of time before readjusting the scales. If this place really was to become your tomb, youâd move in early to be surrounded by all the treasures within it. One of the most mesmerising records of the year.
DAVE STEWART