Photo of Opeth’s Mikael Åkerfeldt by Zach K. Johnson
I’ll start off by seeing myself out for that attempt at a clever title, a hodge-podge of references to tonight’s featured guests…
But actually, I’ll start with an interesting anecdote from my college years: I was a lifelong metalhead, getting into it early with my father’s love of G’N’R, Ozzy/Sabbath, Priest, all the greats, before eventually branching out to the European styles. Opeth was a big one, of course, tailor-made for my prog metal sensibilities. Can’t tell you how many times I spun Blackwater Park like everyone else when it dropped.
Going to a religious college, then, made me a bit of an outlier; not many people around that appreciated the extreme stuff I did, until I had a creative writing professor who, among several eccentricities of our setting, rocked like I did. I learned this one day when he walked into class, headphones blaring—you guessed it—the title track of Blackwater Park.
The other students laughed awkwardly or widened their eyes—the perceived aggression of the music was new to most of them—but I smiled and followed along in my head as the song wound down. It was the first time I’d heard anyone in my religion (at the time) listening to anything even close to that heavy.
The professor was kind of an asshole, and we didn’t get along very well, but he respected my writing and I respected his music taste—so the semester worked out, more or less.
Fifteen years later, I saw Opeth for the first time, sharing the stage with fellow Swedish stalwarts Katatonia. I was less familiar with Katatonia beyond their early Peaceville-era LPs, but left, as I often do, wanting to have a deep dive into their more recent material. And of course, to give Opeth even more spins than I already do.
I was last at the Pageant seeing Ghost during their Meliora-tour in 2015. It was a great show, and I’ve always wanted to go back, having been at next-door Delmar Hall or The Factory many times since. It was a welcome return. The Pageant is mid-size, not small or cramped, but also intimate enough to enhance the acoustic quality of the music itself and the ambiance of the performance.
Katatonia began with subtle, atmospheric grandeur, bathing the stage in moody cool colors punctuated by intense strobing whites. Vocalist Jonas Renkse delivered haunting emotional weight, allowing the rest of the band’s chemistry to shine—guitarist Anders Nyström’s melodic leads intertwined with the rhythm’s doom-laden hypnotic pulse. The sound was well-calibrated, each arranged layer cutting with clarity while carrying forth a wall of sound. Between songs, the band’s understated stage presence was telling: no grand theatrics, just five musicians locked in, letting the music itself do the talking. I appreciated Renkse’s occasional elegant bows between songs. It was a simple gesture, but one that maintained the emotionality of the music. A true showman.
Then Opeth took over, and the energy shifted. Mikael Åkerfeldt remains one of metal’s most charismatic frontmen, peppering the set with some of the same showman-like gestures, but also many moments of dry humor and self-deprecating banter. It’s a different tact than Renkse but doesn’t take away from the sound and fury Opeth has refined since 1990.
Åkerfeldt’s guitar work—fluid transitions between gentle fingerpicking and brutal riffing—was mesmerizing to witness up close. He carried the show with might and hilarity: moving from cuts like the “Paragraphs” and “Demon of the Fall” to recounting a story of his youth, seeing a band from America with a bassist from our very own city and asking “who” upon hearing “St. Louis,” rather than “where.” He also gave a list of what he got for Christmas and lamented his own default laziness in his personal life. Corny? Yes. Charming? Also, yes. There wasn’t a person in the audience who wasn’t laughing at some point, moments before headbanging, swaying, and fist-pumping.
Opeth navigated their diverse catalog with virtuosity, moving seamlessly from proggy complexity to death metal ferocity. Fredrik Åkesson’s lead guitar harmonies danced with Åkerfeldt’s, creating gorgeous melodic passages to chill the bones and blood, while the rhythm section of Martín Méndez and Waltteri Väyrynen provided a foundation both thunderous and nuanced. Åkesson, also a contributor to fellow acts Ihsahn, Ghost, and more, was and is particularly suited in his duties with Åkerfeldt, providing a strong sense of melody that deepens, not lessons, the moments of heaviness.
It was a special evening with clear mutual respect between the bands and their audiences. Both acts treated St. Louis to deep cuts and fan favorites, trusting the audience’s knowledge of their decades-long catalogues. Progressive metal is often more cerebral, but Katatonia and Opeth proved it equally visceral—a union of gloom, doom, and a whole lot of fun. | Zach K. Johnson
