There is in Leprous a fertile disquiet, that of bands who refuse to settle. Born at the turn of the 2000s in Notodden, in the wake of a certain Scandinavian progressive metal, the Norwegians first served as Ihsahn’s live band before tracing a singular path, oscillating between aggression and pop refinement. Melodies of Atonement, their seventh album, marks an avowed return toward density and heaviness, after records some judged too smooth.
The critics, attentive (an 82 average across nine reviews), hail precisely this recovery of nerve. They praise the return of sturdy riffs, of an angular rhythmic drive, and above all the voice of Einar Solberg, a prodigious instrument able to move from whisper to scream within a single breath. It is around that timbre, at once fragile and imperious, that the whole edifice is organised.
Musically, the record cultivates the art of contrast: icy electronic textures, strings and synthesiser washes come to swathe a writing that remains taut, almost nervous. Leprous compose songs rather than demonstrations, and each track unfolds an emotional architecture that favours impact over gratuitous profusion.
One might regret that this quest for balance sometimes dulls the edge: in taking such care over its transitions, the band at moments verges on a slightly clinical elegance, where emotion is glimpsed without ever quite spilling over. The reservation remains slight against the coherence of the whole.
Verdict: 8/10. A record of maturity, demanding and sensitive, confirming Leprous among the most personal voices of the European progressive scene.
