Time and distance. I’ve been thinking a lot about those concepts, and how they relate to the media and – specifically – music I consume. And between the news of Opeth returning with a new album (with death growls, at least on the single) as well as the news of a remastered, special edition the debut from Storm Corrosion, the collaboration between Mikael Åkerfeldt and Steven Wilson it was time to revisit that eponymous album, one I viscerally rebelled against at the time of its release. What was this thing that was neither what I wanted from Opeth nor Porcupine Tree? Certainly nothing to get me excited or pumped up for, so there it sat for 14 years. Surprise (no surprise), a decade of growth and musical consumption now yield a very different opinion of Storm Corrosion the album, so let’s get into it.

Over a decade removed from expectations, the first thing coming back I noticed are the clear signposts to what both artists would push forward in their respective bands. Coming about a year after Heritage (though recorded around the same time), it feels like the space Åkerfeldt wanted after his first experiment incorporating a more straight ahead prog sound to the Opeth formula. And for Wilson, no stranger to jumping genres, the album comes in between the somber pace of Grace for Drowning and the outright progressive rock of The Raven That Refused To Sing (And Other Stories). Opener “Drag Ropes” sets the stage for what’s to come: sparse, open and warm arrangements, skeletal without being bare-bones, emphasizing ambience over pure attack. A lot has been said of how Åkerfeldt’s clean vocals have improved with each recording, and he definitely sets a high bar here. When Wilson comes in to harmonize it’s gorgeous. The mellotron is very Opeth, and the writing in hindsight seems like such a natural extension of Opeth I admit to being ashamed I didn’t notice it the first time around.

That’s the danger of expectations, but also the grace of aging and admitting you don’t know anything. Buddha would be proud, I guess.

The change in rhythm as Wilson goes into his syncopated “Are manifold / And the truth can now be told” brings a level of tension and excitement to “Drag Ropes” that is sublime, and leads directly into Åkerfeldt’s brief but luminous solo. From there we go to the 10-minute title track, and it’s here where the orchestral and folk elements really come to the foreground. As the opener was really an Åkerfeldt showcase, so “Storm Corrosion” is Wilson’s. Against Åkerfeldt’s acoustic guitar Wilson’s vocals drift into lovely and forlorn contemplation of, well…I won’t pretend to understand the poetry here but damn it is lovely, and pressed against such fitting music. Wilson has always been a fantastic producer and mixer, allowing for miles of space for his instrumentation, and Storm Corrosion is certainly no different; even the string squeaks from Åkerfeldt’s playing sits in its own niche. The tonal shift towards the end of the track is foreboding, an ominous note to keep you off balance before returning to its more dreamlike and pastoral touch.

“Hag” has an almost spectral presence, and presents the first signs of the “metal” people were hoping for when Storm Corrosion was originally announced. It’s also the first time we hear prominent drums, courtesy of Porcupine Tree’s Gavin Harrison. It’s only there for the briefest of moments, a lightning emphasis before returning to the dust. Despite the attack, I come away from “Hag” with the sampled laughter at the piece’s end, and the wonderful vocals mimicking the guitars as highlights moreso than its lonely rock moment. “Happy” is any but, with Åkerfeldt’s acoustic playing again leading the way for a ghostly Wilson vocal. Lovely guitar playing aside, this might be the weakest track on the album, with the ambient vibe taking too much of the space, though the end works hard to right the ship with electronic pulses and noise against the guitar.

An increasing electronic tone leads into the accosting palm muted riff of instrumental “Lock Howl” and next to “Drag Ropes” might be my favorite track on Storm Corrosion. I absolutely adore the opening passage with the keyboard pedaling a note as the guitars swirl against each other, leading into a lush soundscape. Did you ever expect handclaps in your Opeth? Well they’re here, announcing the second section of the track and combining with the orchestral arrangement before returning to that great opening riff. It brings a sense of momentum and scope that doesn’t require any vocals, except Wilson’s “yeah!” at the end. Really strong compositional work to my ears, and a true highlight that I can’t recall I ever really got to in my initial listens.

That just leaves the final epic, “Ljudet Innan” loosely translated to “The Sound Before” and Åkerfeldt’s falsetto is incredible here. From there the song really dissolves into a very, very sparse ambient piece, all texture and open air. More lovely soloing from Åkerfeldt (does he get enough credit for his playing? I don’t think so…man is just so tasteful with every note), and when the vocals return Wilson takes it up, bringing Storm Corrosion to a sedate and meditative close.

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I think there’s a broader conversation to be had at some point about how we stick to artists, and the quarter we give to their work. I try very hard to be open to everything, to place my trust in my favorite artists’ works, but at the same time not be blinded when something doesn’t work, or work as we want to it. This recently came up with the new Alcest record, with some folks blindly calling it the album of the year (with six months to go) while simultaneously refusing to acknowledge anything less than “it’s perfect”. For me, I think it’s their 4th or 5th best album, meaning I’d rather listen to at least 4 other albums before it. Is that a “perfect” album?

I bring this up because I was that idiot back in 2012 with Storm Corrosion, loudly proclaiming (if only to myself) that it wasn’t what we wanted, and it was just fluff and ego. That blindness works both ways, you see, and I’m glad for the age and limited wisdom that allowed me to move past and see what the album truly held, provided I was willing to listen¹.

¹ thanks to my buddy Jon who asked me to write about it. Thanks for the prod, Jon!