Orphaned Land, Unsung prophets & dead messiahs

I’m always happy when a new Orphaned Land record comes out, they are one of my favourite bands and I’ll always have a soft spot for them, their music and their message. Like I mentioned before, after All is one (which wasn’t on par with their previous works, even though it was better than most of the stuff out there) and Yossi’s departure, I was a bit worried that we were going to witness a drop in their quality. Thankfully, their collaboration with Amaseffer eased my doubts and now this album definitively put them to rest, so all is good in the world.

Unsung prophets & dead messiahs is, in Kobi’s words, a protest album and “a very angry album”, which is quite a surprise coming from a band that has been promoting peace and harmony for twenty-something years. The message is still towards the same goal of peace, but they’ve now taken a more aggressive route, venting their frustration and disapproval against censorship, manipulation and lack of critical thinking, as the main vessels through which war and hate are spread. I like this new side of them, since I’ve never been a fan of the “let’s all hold hands” approach (not that it’s a bad thing to wish for, but we all know it’s not going to happen like this).

Unsung prophets starts strongly with The cave, as one of the most memorable tracks of the record, that displays Orphaned Land in all their glory. It has it all – the touching oriental cries, the engaging and infectious rhythms, Kobi’s warm melodious voice and yes, their short punctuated grunts, in a great interlacing of the force and gentleness that I so dearly love them for. 

The album becomes even more aggressive with We do not resist, which marks even more clearly the return to their rawer sound of Mabool and The neverending way and obviously makes me the happiest fangirl of them all. Again, I can feel the frustration and resentment coming out through their every fiber and the music appropriately accompanies and enhances it, starting with the grunts and angry bass line, and ending with the censored accusation of “measuring dicks”. The use of the censorship beeps has raised a lot of eyebrows, but honestly I think it draws attention to the issue a lot more than actually talking about it. Many complained that the beeps take them out of the mood, but I think that was exactly the point, to irritate us into remembering that in that part of the world they are still fighting with something that we Westerners are now taking for granted. And I quite like how the beeps fit into the songs, they add to the “I’m so pissed off about this” vibe. 

After an excellent and highly promising start, the album dies down a bit, though. In propaganda is a pretty anti-climatic song, split in two, with a faster paced and more engaging ethnic part that often dies down into a rather sugary and dull chant from Kobi. His voice is like butter and there’s an amount of emotion radiating from it that’s hard to make justice to with mere words, but this time, the actual music isn’t helping him. 

All knowing eye goes even deeper into the cheesy territory, with a flaky and uninteresting tune that doesn’t speak much to me. I find it hard to hear this coming from the people who are able to make such heartfelt and moving ballads that bring tears to one’s eyes, and the intense mobilising growth at the end serves more as teasing, but… eh, one can’t always be brilliant, I guess. 

Yedidi serves as the fully traditional track of the record (you know what I’m talking about, they have one on each album), but this one also fails to interest me in any way, as it’s too repetitive and flat. 

Thankfully, by the time they get to the sixth track they start getting their mojo back. Chains fall to gravity starts with an instrumental that instantly transports me into a bazar and paves the way for those heartfelt slow trademark moments I was previously longing for. It may not be as strong musically, but it has a lot of soul and that amazing dramatic choir and catchy guitar solo in the middle are enough to make up for any of the previous mishaps. 

And with triumph and epicness in the form of Hansi Kursch, we go into the second half of the album, which is just perfect to my ears. I often joke about how Hansi is everything the world needs to be right again, but when music is concerned, there’s a lot of truth to that. Aside from the fact that I’ve never heard him sing in anything that’s less than awesome, there’s also a certain vibe that he brings with him in everything he does. I’ve had this song stuck in my head for days and I still can’t get enough of it, it’s just destined to be sung forever and ever and ever. I really love how the whole track revolves around Hansi’s chorus and it’s created to steadily lead to it. There’s a permanent evolution that wonderfully matches the story, starting with Kobi’s grave voice on top of the heavier guitar when the hero cannot see, the growth to the hopeful and powerful “lift the veil of shade forever”, the explosion of oriental instruments and grunts of “RISE”, culminating with the glorious proclamation about life. It’s so epic it’s hard to believe it’s only a four and a half minutes song.

I find it even harder to believe that Poets of prophetic messianism and Left behind both have the same approximate three minutes length. The first feels like an interlude (a very touching one, thanks to Shlomit’s piercing vocals and the beautiful choirs), while the second has so much going on that is feels like an 7-8 minutes progressive track. I love it when they start in a more minimalistic style, with short punctuated vocals, only to give room to that wonderful outbreak of long, high, passionate notes. There’s a wonderful contrast between the anger of the verses and the deep pain of the chorus and I will always appreciate how genuine and profound are all these feelings they express through music. 

Equally touching is My brother’s keeper, especially knowing the true life story, of Janusz Korczak, who was willing to suffer the extermination camps of the Holocaust instead of abandoning his orphan children. It gives me the chills just thinking of it, and Orphaned Land manage to bring his story to life exuding exactly the kind of determination and kindness I imagine a man like Korczak used to have. Music wise, it sounds just as good as you’d expect it and I can’t help but be impressed by Kobi’s talent, as he sounds like three different persons as he goes through his low speaking voice, his higher piercing chants and his powerful grunts in the background. And I simply cannot get enough of their grunts, they use them so well and in such a right amount to emphasize certain parts and provide contrast to the melodiousness of the rest of the track. 

Take my hand also pendulates between heavy and aggressive, with the military rhythms, and intense and touching, thanks to Kobi’s warm crisp voice. There’s a powerful and twirling story they tell and the “take my hand” part especially is so stirring and there is so much conviction in his singing that it simply breaks my heart. It’s Orphaned Land at it’s finest, making me feel compassion and outrage at the same time, all the while providing a captivating and engaging musical background. 

And somehow it keeps getting better. Only the dead have seen the end of the war is an aggressive darker track and it’s a style that suits them well. Combined with their purposefully unpolished sound mixing and Tomas Lindberg’s screeching vocals, it’s probably the most pissed off I’ve ever heard them, both musically and in terms of the brutality of the lyrics. It sounds great. And that siren at the beginning of the track… having just read an interview of Kobi where he tells how he slept for days with his clothes on in case there was another a siren announcing another bombing, it gives me shivers to know this is a reality for so many people. 

The album ends with The manifest – epilogue, and to me this track is the perfect embodiment of all Orphaned Land stand for and all of what their music is born from. There’s a sadness that can only come from true sufferance and while their music has almost always been great in terms of sheer sound, it’s the amount of soul they put into it that truly separates them from other bands. They have such a uniqueness and it doesn’t come from certain music patterns they use like it does with Opeth, for example, but from an undescribable place of emotion and true conviction for something that’s more than just music or even simply personal emotions. 

This album is another wonderful expression of it and even though I could easily skip the middle tracks, the fact that they’re framed between an amazing beginning and an even better ending makes me almost forget about them and instead I can only focus on the excellence of it. And let me tell you, there’s plenty of it. Some of the best used grunts I’ve heard, one of the most emotive voices in metal, captivating tracks, but most of all a fervor and passion that is enough to move mountains and bring even the dullest track to life. To me, this is what Orphaned Land is all about and Unsung prophets & dead messiahs is a perfect representation of it.