Napalm Records
Out Now
Words by Mark Polst
Sweden’s perennial dealers in gloom, Katatonia, are back – and Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State might just be their finest post Fall of Hearts effort yet. If you’ve ever stared blankly at the ceiling at 3 am with a head full of regret and a heart full of Spotify, this album is your bloody soulmate. It’s equal parts beautiful and brutal. Like getting punched in the chest by a ghost wearing silk gloves.
Let’s address the dark little elephant in the room first: Anders Nyström, long-time guitarist and co-founder, is no longer in the picture. That’s a big shift for a band built on collaboration. But instead of crumbling under the weight of that absence, frontman Jonas Renkse has taken the reins with stoic elegance, delivering what might be his most cohesive and emotionally charged batch of songs in nearly a decade. And yeah, you can feel the solitude in these tracks, but it’s not a weakness. It’s the album’s bleeding heart.
Thrice opens the record like a moody freight train, full of off-kilter rhythms and haunting melodies, and it hits with the urgency of a panic attack in a thunderstorm. From there, the album settles into Katatonia’s signature terrain – cold, expansive, and endlessly introspective. Lilac is absolutely stunning, layering ghostly synths, intricate guitar lines, and a rhythm section that pulses like a distant heartbeat. It’s one of those songs that makes you stare out the window like you’re in a Scandinavian drama, even if you’re just on the bus to Woolies.
There’s weight to this album. Not just in the riffs, though yes, they do get heavy in spots, with Temporal boasting a ripping solo that caught me off guard in the best way – but in the emotional textures. Winds of No Change feels near ceremonial with its choral flourishes and slow-burning intensity. The Light Which I Bleed might be the record’s emotional climax – a sweeping, cinematic piece with a strings-drenched outro that hits like the final chapter of a tragedy you can’t stop re-reading.
Even Efter Solen, sung entirely in Swedish, manages to stand out with minimal instrumentation and soft electronic hues, it’s the kind of track that rewards quiet attention and proves Katatonia can still surprise. And let’s be honest, how many metal bands in their fourteenth album cycle can say that?
If there’s a critique, it’s that some moments almost drift too far into the ether. There are stretches, especially in the mid-album lull, where the dynamics blur together, and you start to wish a bit more risk had been taken. But honestly? That’s nitpicking. This isn’t background music, it’s a slow, immersive sink into sorrow and serenity.
Katatonia haven’t just aged gracefully – they’ve matured with menace. Nightmares as Extensions of the Waking State doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it sharpens the edges and paints it black. It’s music for the late hours, the long drives, and the hearts that still haven’t found peace. A haunting triumph from one of metal’s most emotionally intelligent bands.
