“A little late to change my ways, no going back to better days.”
Avatar are an outfit that I like to think have come a long way. From the humblest of humble beginnings as a young band of rebels in urban-Gothenburg, they are now eternally up-and-coming sensations, renowned for their top-notch theatrics, and being an intoxicating taste-test of exaggerated madness. No matter who you are, the milestone of one’s tenth full-length album is no measly feat, often reserved for artists that would by now typically be catagorised as “legacy”. Swedes, however, are simply built different, as Avatar have consistently built up a robust catalogue of distinct tales and audiovisual experiences for approaching two decades at this point with little signs of slowing. After so long in the spotlight, the question ultimately lingers in the air(waves): “Does the Circus ever tire? Will the funfair ever end and the balloon eventually pop?” – and the answers ultimately lie… In The Forest.
Our ‘curtain-drop’ moment, rather unfortunately, wastes no time in strapping us to the chair and bolting our eyes and ears open. We’re forced to bear witness as the record hits rock bottom right out of the gate: “Tonight We Must Be Warriors” embodies everything I had ever feared about the direction of the Avatar sound. It’s worth noting that, at the height of their game, this band beautifully balanced cut-throat melodeath ferocity with the occasional well-intentioned and well-placed goofiness that harkens most accurately to acclaimed eccentrics like System Of A Down. Long-play number six Feathers & Flesh damn-near perfected this particular selling point. Whilst perfectly serviceable and adequately produced, the bone-deep biology of an irritatingly bland and sanitised power metal clarion-call to nothing in particular feels as if it is bending the knee in two different directions. It’s attempting to please both the teenage twitter-stans that gravitate towards an image, and the desperately out-of-touch midlives, clutching onto something that allows them to feel youthful and unhinged. It’s all well and good that the song makes use of a myriad of ‘elevating’ instruments, but there is simply no gilding a lily. This one really stings, but thankfully it’s reasonably short-lived and stays dead and gone (and not back again) for the remainder of the record.
I have always admired the mission statement of this band, proclaiming time and time again that not a single album-cycle goes by without stepping out of their comfort-zone in some capacity in order to capture the most effective art conceivable. Oddly enough, the marketing for Don’t Go In The Forest appears to imply a doubling-down of sorts when it comes to this motto. However, upon crossing the rickety bridge and spending some time with the record, one fails to see very much meaningful experimentation or variable elements at all. The opening half of the album encompasses naught but rehashes of what worked before to varying levels of success. “Captain Goat” fancies itself the catchy bastard-child of “Dance Devil Dance” and any Feathers & Flesh hit of your choice, using occult and folklore imagery in order to convey guidance in finding contented acceptance by virtue of jaunty sea-shanty. “In The Airwaves” begs the listener “look! We’re still heavy! We’re still fast!” with little rhyme or reason to stand upon, leaving us with a less effective version of “When All But Force Has Failed” from two albums prior. The only thing more baffling than this repeated smashing-together of downtrodden components is the fact that these tracks were specifically chosen as singles, perhaps with the intention of giving them individual breathing room – as the pacing in this act is, for lack of a better term, completely all over the place.
Onwards from here, the ‘Disney-adult metal’ dial appears to turn up to eleven with an abundance of sickly choral harmonies and title-dropping hooks that can all be summarised akin to “there’s a monster out there mate, don’t go out there – or do, actually do: come out and play mate, I’m the monster” buzzing in like pests through an open window. The chorus of “Dead And Gone And Back Again” is a particularly egregious offender, sitting non-commitally on the fence between a scrapped demo version of “This Is Halloween” and a legally untraceable Various Artists CD of all your least favourite Christmas carols playing simultaneously. “Howling At The Waves” overshoots a heartfelt ballad, and stumbles into the bottomless pit of the sleazy “dw I’ll protect u bby” forced heartthrob with it’s hot-breathed, overly-intrusive lyricism and vocals toeing the line of discomfort just a little too far in the wrong direction. It’s lacking the sincerity of Hunter Gatherer’s “Gun”, and ignores the subtlety of Hail The Apocalypse’s “Tower” in a way that has no story to tell and feels bizarrely out-of-character.
To give credit where it is due, hits like “Abduction Song”, “Death & Glitz” and the title track “Don’t Go In The Forest” work on a befuddling level, despite assumedly falling flat when explained conceptually from a third-person perspective. In short-doses, the syrupy, saccharine glammyness that is “Death & Glitz” remarkably finds itself quite a delight, and pairs wonderfully with its biting commentary on the music industry and its victims. For better or for worse, “Don’t Go In The Forest”, as both a title-track and an LP, is trying its hardest to be a cinematic experience. Even if a majority of the record sans this self-titled slice is missing the coherency required to even be considered an ‘experience’ at all, this is admittedly a rather strange hurdle to struggle upon, given that Avatar have repeatedly demonstrated themselves to be among the best at exactly that: storytelling. When it works, it works… even if it feels like it shouldn’t – and what we’re seeing here is certainly not a lack of musicianship or ability. If anything, Avatar are overqualified when it comes to staggering skill and writing-proficiency, as, once again, has been put to the test many times before.
As a full package, Don’t Go In The Forest is essentially what happens when a band begins to run out of avenues to show-off – and so they double-down on their core with force that it simply cannot sustain. With far more misses than hits this time around, the challenge of Avatar’s next record may need to be a complete reinvention of the formula in order to brush off this misstep and continue climbing onwards. As someone who has been previously described as a “super-fan” of their earlier work, it brings me no pleasure whatsoever to report a misfire in Avatar Country – alas, the King and his royal court deserve nothing less than complete and utter transparency from their subjects; And as a dedicated subject I know that they can do better.
4.5/10
Don’t Go In The Forest was released via Thirty Tigers (Black Waltz Records) on Friday, October 31st and can be ordered here.