The UK's progressive metallic soul-pop rock act Sleep Token are cloaked in mystery, literally. The members are masked and identified by alias: Vessel (real name Leo

The UK’s progressive metallic soul-pop rock act Sleep Token are cloaked in mystery, literally. The members are masked and identified by alias: Vessel (real name Leo George Faulkner, lead vocalist/multi-instrumentalist/producer), II (real name Adam Pedder, percussion), III (real name Dave Ball, bass [touring]) and IV (real name Rhys Griffiths, guitar [touring]). There are also a touring backing vocalist trio known as Espera, comprising Mathilda Riley, Lynsey Ward, and Paige Lucip. However, besides Vessel and II, the remaining integral artistic contributors are designated for the stage, not the studio. Essentially, the hearts of Sleep Token’s musical creativity remain, to a degree, charismatically confidential.
The enigmatic ensemble project a cult-like archetype, and to their credit, it has been a major success both critically and commercially for their three studio albums: The Sundowning (2019), This Place Will Become Your Tomb (2021) and Take Me Back To Eden (2023). The complicated characteristic regarding a “cult”, though, is that it can generate pathways that are more aligned with dreams than reality. This is where the Academy-winning film Inception plays its role in this review; the spectators of Even In Arcadia, the band's fourth captivating ceremony in LP format, may want to take upon Arthur's (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) quoted advice and carry with them a totem when undergoing this new ritual. The reason is that the adventure they are about to embark on could induce a delightful dream-state that might become inescapable. In all sincerity, these ten tracks possess that tremendous trance-inducing capacity which has the potential to be dangerous.
Opener ‘Look To Windward’ is immaculately suitable for the Inception film soundtrack; a HORSE The Band inspired synth-pop introduction that gently ushers the witnesses into the dream-state when Vessel begins his angelically crooned message: “Just as I drift away, will you haunt this eclipse in me? Will you haunt this eclipse in me? Will you haunt this eclipse in me?” It conjures images of the scenes from Inception where Leonardo DiCaprio's character Dom Cobb (who is brilliantly portrayed throughout) visualises and interacts with his deceased wife Mal, terrifically embodied by Marion Cotillard. Hold on, this is just the beginning…
A string section creeps in, which could be utilised in the passages of the film where the characters are induced to sleep. At the midway point of the track, Vessel levitates his voice into a soul-shaking scream. Cue any action, high tension or violent part to the sci-fi blockbuster – it is flawlessly befitting with its devastating djent-core musicianship.
A drastic sound alteration interlude follows that subscribes to a R&B pop variety which would work flawlessly in the credits; the song evolves with many layers that may perhaps be appropriate for Ariadne (Elliot Page) 's experimentations with the architecture of the dreamscapes. Then the piano ballad section joins the idea of the love between Dom and Mal, as well as his family, exquisitely. The drifts between heavy and harmony capture their relationship magnificently also.
“Will you haunt this eclipse in me?” is whispered numerous times again until an earth-shattering breakdown is administered that could very well represent the tense collapsing of the dream's multi-levels. Confused? That’s understandable, the movie is bafflingly brilliant, and all of this encapsulates the first song of this journey fantastically.
‘Emergence’ trickles in with a near Lewis Capaldi motivation, chamber pop elements charm the listener into a delectable daze, and the message, “go ahead and wrap your arms around me”, encourages an immeasurable loving sentiment. The track elevates into a perplexing hip hop segment that incites a need to shimmy and dance, but when the distorted guitars strike through, the dancing becomes comprehensively headbanging. The theatrical pop-rock acts as a calm before the storm, then that thunder and lightning roars rapidly, only to be alleviated by a lust-driven saxophone conclusion excellently executed by Gabi Rose.
‘Past-Self’ has a slight Sam Smith guidance inspired by his dance-soul-pop realm, which then revisits the hip hop enlightenment. Surprisingly, the composition is devoid of any escalation to a metallic section. ‘Dangerous’ is a grand theatrical modernised rock opera that fuses latter-day Dayseeker, early Röyksopp and subtleties of Tool's alt-metal musicianship.
Single ‘Caramel’ is a bewildering eccentricity of beauty. Commencing with that R&B pop motif Sleep Token are adored for, the composition practically fits into the “wedding song” category. Lyrically, in a discreet finesse, Vessel remarkably reconfigures the message of the track around three-quarters of the way through: “I’ll take what I’m given, the deepest incisions. I thought I got better,