Even In Arcadia is the beginning of a bold new cycle for Sleep Token

Working their way from the shadows of the UK alt. underground into sold out arenas

Rumour has it that Even In Arcadia is the beginning of a bold new cycle for Sleep Token. Working their way from the shadows of the UK alt. underground into sold out arenas – with a feverishly anticipated first Download Festival headline scheduled for next month – the anonymous collective have thus far captivated audiences with their sprawling blend of melody, menace and mystery. Metalheads gravitate to their crushing riffs. TikTok buzzes for their sexy R&B rhythms. Even seasoned industry insiders have debated whether mysterious, perpetually-masked frontman Vessel might really be the alter-ego of a known superstar like James Arthur or Bastille’s Dan Smith.

Having completed a logical first-three-album arc with 2023’s mesmerising Take Me Back To Eden, however, they step into the sun here with more warmth and colour than anyone imagined.

A little context is key. Vessel and his bandmates don’t give interviews. There is no bio bulging with hyperbole to accompany this album launch. Even traditional music videos have been eschewed in favour of low-key, screensaver-like animations. Filling that void, an ever-growing legion of ‘worshippers’ have analysed every element of their output, from music and lyrics, to artwork and the members’ gradually-evolving masks. The mythos is already impenetrably dense. Vessel is the earthly mouthpiece for the ancient deity ‘Sleep’. Individual songs are ‘Tokens’ offered up in his name. Their imagery has incorporated Norse runes, undersea creatures and demonic sigils from the goetic grimoire Ars Goetia. Thematic threads can be unpicked – darkness and sensuality, trauma and the subconscious – but true fulfilment comes from fans building worlds of their own.

‘I wanna’ be a provider…’ Vessel sings on Even In Arcadia’s seventh song. ‘Your outer shell, your secret insider… Your guiding hand, your final decider…’ Is he expressing his devotion to some unknown dependent, or is he addressing the listener directly, acknowledging and accepting that his music has become the lens through which a generation have come to process their deepest melancholies and darkest desires? We’ll probably never get the answer. And that’s half the fun.

What we do know is that Even In Arcadia is an album unlike any they have delivered before. There are ten tracks here, for one thing, rather than the customary twelve. Album art is more intricate with a colour-reversed grey flamingo against pink vegetation. And they’ve ‘divided’ their faithful, after online treasure hunts, with the introduction of competing clans House Veridian and Feathered Host, each with a distinctive logo, colour scheme and, eh, Instagram account.

Musically, they’ve split their fanbase, too. Lead single Emergence teased a shift away from the more contemplative, atmospheric, post-rock foundation of previous releases to a bigger, poppier production, full of hip hop grooves and stray saxophones, with heavier metallic elements used sparingly for relief. Caramel went further, deploying their trademark xylophone-style synths in service of an R&B anthem boasting their biggest chorus yet – and even fewer crunching six-strings. Damocles tripled-down with a gorgeously soulful, piano-led ballad that was barely ‘rock’ at all.

Hitting ‘play’ on the full album, it’s clear that although Sleep Token aren’t trying to alienate anyone, neither will their progress be stalled for fear of leaving some OG fans behind.

Near eight-minute opener ‘Look To The Windward’ serves as a bridge connecting their more wounded earlier sounds with the swaggering new direction. It’s probably also the strongest track on offer: a compelling sonic journey from internalised soul-searching via painful metamorphosis to glowing rebirth. ‘Past Self’ shrugs off old skin with a jaunty, loose-limbed beat and optimistic lyrics about ‘walking an inch above the pavement’. ‘Dangerous’ builds the tension through high-strung synthwork and shapeshifting vocals before reaching a smashing crescendo. The gorgeous title-track  feels pivotal, with soft-pressed keys completely overwhelmed by Vessel’s awesome vocal before opening into a sharply defined soundscape (featuring no traditional rock instruments) that’s arguably the most subtle and heartbreakingly effective this version of the band have ever been.

Indeed, what’s holding Even In Arcadia back, is the sense on so many other songs that they need to find space for traditional heaviness. Understandable, perhaps, from a band about to confirm themselves as Monsters Of Rock on Donington’s hallowed turf, and you could argue it fits with a theme of discovering the dark side of paradise. But, at best, the pattern of only layering in guitars halfway through songs seems unimaginatively formulaic. At worst, it feels downright disjointed. 

Whether the hardcore Sleep Token audience see that as a valid criticism, or whether they are willing to