For the first time since... well, almost their debut, Norwegians Leprous have not released a new studio album in two years. It took three for Melodies of Atonement to show its face. What has happened since Aphelion to cause such an immeasurable delay? There was the live album released last year to tide us over, but the solo debut of singer-keyboardist Einar Solberg and his album 16 may also have something to do with it. Three years is still an acceptable length of time, especially if you want to maintain the level of quality that Leprous have never lacked. It was also the length of time required to get the band to question itself (again)...
... Yes, Melodies of Atonement has shaken up the band's habits, which had been established over the last ten years or so. Having his own project allowed Solberg to exorcise his symphonic impulses, leaving Leprous to refocus but also offering more space to the other musicians in the band. The result is immediately apparent: the guitars regain an aggression we haven't really heard since The Congregation. But Leprous are not looking to the past. Melodies of Atonement builds on past experiences, notably with pop structures that make the tracks immediately catchy and visceral, while at the same time making the right use of electronics to create gripping atmospheres (Limbo), opting for immediate rhythms that can be assimilated rather than convoluted liberties.
Leprous builds tension only to let it explode, aided by the voice of its singer, who delivers another exceptional performance and, in his high-pitched lines, infuses anger, despair and melancholy like never before (hear him rant on My Specter). There's an ever touching personal involvement in the lyrics and recurring themes (Atonement's guilt and self-accusations are echoed in The Faceless, which seems to respond to Silently Walking Alone and its quest for peaceful anonymity). Melodies of Atonement is at its most powerful when it relies on contrasts, on those cries from the heart that spring forth with an authenticity and spontaneity made possible by the set-up that precedes them, like the highly theatrical progression of Starlight, which is thrilling and carries us along like an epic play from a musical. There's even more theatricality in the poignant finale of Unfree My Soul and its crepuscular conclusion, the strength of which lies in the nuance, between liberation and capitulation, reminiscent of Leprous' talent for cinematic titles. Finally, it's when Leprous indulge in calmer or more linear ballads that we're least carried away, and this only happens on I Hear the Sirens, which isn't bad but suffers in comparison with the rest of the album, which is of a very high standard.
When presenting Melodies of Atonement, Leprous facetiously said that it was their best album, hastening to add ‘this time, it's true’. With its progressive structures that avoid pompous, cerebral demonstrations to get to the heart of the matter more quickly and better serve the emotions, this new album is an ensemble that is at once nervous, aggressive and edgy. Accessible but not devoid of surprises and richness, Melodies of Atonement breathes, explodes and transports. Like a mark of confidence, Leprous is both vulnerable and conquering, and isn't afraid to let its music breathe, to put less weight on it than in the past, to let all its elegance explode with more sobriety and sincerity. Their best album, for real? And why not, after all?
