Heavy metal made its biggest impact in the 1980s, and some of the factors that made it so powerful was its large scope and penchant for drama. Every record a band put out was another step ahead in ambition and creativity, and when progression was made and huge curves built into the road, it made it that much more enthralling.

Metal has changed a lot, and more emphasis is put on heaviness and brutality over trying to grow like an obelisk toward the sky. Yet, Texas-based dreamers Oceans of Slumber thrive on hugeness and increasing and stretching their sounds. Their new album “Where Gods Fear to Speak” is meant to be cinematic, literally, as it is a soundtrack to a movie that doesn’t actually exist, an apocalyptic tale that mixes poisonous religious tactics with a group of people that has risen up against it and is fighting back. This record sonically encompasses every era of this band’s sound, and it is noticeably heavier and more savage than their last couple albums. Yet, it’s still chock full of melody, world-class singing, and progressive death power as the band—vocalist Cammie Beverly, guitarist Chris Jones, guitarist/synth player Chris Kritikos, bassist Semir Ozerkan, drummer/piano player Dobber Beverly—pours every ounce of themselves into these 10 songs and 56 minutes that grab you from the first moment and refuse to let go.

The title track starts awash in darkness, Cammie’s singing pushing before growls retch and display ugliness, guitars churning as the pace sinks in its teeth. The plot soars and crushes, going cold for a moment before the guitars launch, synth whirs, and everything comes to a surreal conclusion. “Run From the Light” is punchy and heavy, ripping into flesh, grim howls mixing with Cammie’s dramatic highs. The playing mixes hardcore and black metal, the dual vocals pushing the emotions, the tempo laying waste as the soloing flows. Cammie reaches for the stratosphere, the temps cooling as rustic strains fade into time. “Don’t Come Back From Hell Empty Handed” runs 8:28, the longest track here, and a synthscape and atmospheric singing combine, energy pulsating as the building blocks are placed. A strong buzz mixes into warmth, playful keys and a theatrical touch adding a sense of fun, and then the heaviness caterwauls, rolling liberally in grit. Cosmic keys spread as wordless calls flutter, growls adding fiery tension, violence folding in with mud. “Wish” opens with just Cammie’s voice, guitars eventually joining and adding fury, power and catchiness luring you into the center. The drums hammer away as speed jolts the senses, Cammie calling, “A dream that’s just a dream and nothing more,” flowing into finality. “Poem of Ecstasy” starts with cinematic keys, singing glazing, the growls adding some ill will. Then guts are ripped from bellies, flowing with an intensity and charge that’s hard to hold to the side. “I’m waiting, save me from myself,” Cammie beckons, the elements coming together and melting into the ground.

“The Given Dream” basks in a synth shadow, the singing bellowing as bells chime, a pulsating center eventually exuding power. Strong singing flexes as the ambiance thickens, electro zaps filling minds with numbing light. “I Will Break the Pride of Your Will” has trembling keys and a tempo that suddenly charges, the singing standing in command as growls chew on guts. The bulk is assertive, but then a cooling agent is injected, keys making the frost feel insurmountable but also comfortable, the playing adding force you cannot hope to avoid. “Prayer” opens with keys simmering, and then the detonation levels bodies, scathing madness rushing full force into your bones. Moonspell’s Fernando Ribeiro lends his elegant pipes to this piece, and he and Cammie make for a perfect match. The playing shoves tectonic plates into different space, Cammie and Ribeiro combining to create a true force. “The Impermanence of Fate” has keys falling, the singing numbing, and the tempo buzzing and ripping open in force. Drama becomes a massive factor, Cammie leveling with, “I’ll never give in, I’m trying,” as an emotional surge coats with power that soothes nerves. The record closes with a cover of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game,” and look, I’ve been pretty positive about this record, and for good reason. The world didn’t need another take on this song, and while this is a pretty strong stab at this and is supposed to be the end credits, it kind of feels like a strange ending to such an intense experience. It’s a minor qualm.

“Where Gods Fear to Speak” might sound alien in other times, but where we are now, these songs land hard as we prepare to defend our basic freedoms. Oceans of Slumber always has been a creative beast that’s poised to push metal elsewhere, but their commitment to heaviness and savagery also solidifies their commitment to their craft and style and the desire to keep things bloody. This band is awash in talent and can do things most artists can’t, and the fact their integrity and credibility continually defy expectations and always push to new heights should be enough to pack their followers’ hearts with faith.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/oceansofslumber/

To buy the album (North America), go here: https://shopusa.season-of-mist.com/

Or here (International): https://shop.season-of-mist.com/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.season-of-mist.com/