Clearly a band that have never been afraid to experiment, this is another brave, bold step for Madder Mortem. Their last record, 2006’s Desiderata, was clever enough; an expertly crafted fusion of ethereal jazz-infused compositions and gargantuan but off-kilter alt. metal grooves reminiscent of Tool. This was transformed from classy prog-metal into something altogether remarkable by the staggeringly powerful vocals of Agnete Kirkevaag, perfectly clear and clean but spiralling shatteringly through dramatic emotional crescendos.

Eight Ways further develops the delicate, proggier element here, but to say that it gives the album a “gentle” side would be missing the point entirely. The marvellous thing about it is that the band have mastered these elements of their sound in a way that metal bands that experiment with “mellower” angles seldom do. The melodies are clever and enigmatic, using intriguing harmonic constructions. And, like with Cynic’s indescribable Traced In Air, this is a living, breathing organism, with different elements of the sound not being simply alternated between, but inextricably intertwined with eachother. So, the most delicate passages always have a menacingly schizophrenic quality to them; are they building towards a euphoric set of vocal harmonies or a metallic tidal wave?

Perhaps describing a song will give a better idea of what this band actually does. Take The Flesh, the Blood, & the Man. A juddering, heavy-Opeth style opening riff quickly gives way to a bizarrely metallized shuffle rhythm, eerie vocal line and reverberating jazz guitar noodles. Classy melodeath harmonized lead lines skip in and out, alongside hippyish handclaps. The chorus is a heavy mid-tempo groove twisted into original shapes by the vivid, feverish vocal delivery and jagged guitar phrases. Back to the verse, and the sound is being overwhelmed by oddly echoing background noise and the vocals have assumed the delirious character of a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta. Factors like that also hint at the presence of something else you wouldn’t necessarily pick up on previous albums; a sense of humour, and the intelligence to express that musically.

Agnete is terrifying again on Eight Ways, her vocals swooping devastatingly from operatic heights to low menacing bellows. It adds a captivating but violent edge, and is the heart and soul of the band; its principal musical focal point. But despite the drama and the all-pervading cleverness of the compositions, the album is anchored in heavy, pounding groove, with a strong hint of Tool, which is perhaps most noticeable on The Little Things.

This is not to say the album is flawless; at times things are taken slightly over the top, as with the maybe-too-screechy Different Kind of Hell. On the other hand, Armour’s choruses come a little too close to more pedestrian power ballad territory, though the verses have a nice sense of mystery. That said, the majority of songs here have depth and feeling, and get progressively better with each listen.

Madder Mortem is, always has been, and probably always will be, an underrated band. To be honest, I hadn’t actually expected them to release something that draws me in to this extent. But as always, revisiting Desiderata makes me feel stupid for being surprised. It’s a step up from that record, which is certainly saying something. Eight Ways is quite an achievement, and well-deserving of progressively-minded metal listeners’ time.