There’s a feeling you get listening to Even In Arcadia — a sense that Sleep Token aren’t just pushing boundaries anymore, they’re dissolving them entirely. With their fourth full-length record, Vessel and co. continue their genre-defying pilgrimage, offering up something as introspective and vulnerable as it is sonically massive because Sleep Token have carved out a world that’s both painfully human and godlike in scale — Even In Arcadia walks that line with grace and grit.
The album opens with “Look To Windward,” a slow burn that doesn’t so much announce itself as it does haunt you. For the first few minutes, it’s all swirling atmosphere, delicate vocals and a repeated phrase — “Will you haunt this eclipse in me?” — that lingers like a ghost. And then, right on the 3:16 mark, the dam breaks. Vessel lets out a brutal scream and the guitars kick into that chugging, djenty chaos we’ve all come to love. But in true Sleep Token fashion, the moment doesn’t last — it retreats just as quickly into a groove that leans more hip-hop and R&B, setting the tone for the record’s genre-hopping spirit.
“Emergence”, the first single, follows. A standout moment of tension and restraint, the song pulses with subtle menace. You get the sense that something dark is coiled beneath the surface, ready to snap. It’s a track that rewards repeated listens — the layering is rich, the rhythm hypnotic, and the payoff well worth the build.
Then comes the curveball of Even In Arcadia — “Past Self.” Clocking in at just under four minutes, it’s the shortest track on the record and also one of the most unexpectedly uplifting. It feels like sunshine breaking through heavy clouds. At first, it might not seem to fit, but give it time — it’s one of those tracks that grows on you fast. There’s a lightness in the music, almost pop-adjacent, but the lyrical weight is still there. Vessel sounds hopeful, but not naive. It’s a fascinating push and pull, and for me, one of the most emotionally resonant moments on the album.
Things take a darker turn with “Dangerous.” Here, Sleep Token slip into something a bit more familiar — brooding synths, layered beats, and that low-end chug. It’s got that same swagger we heard in Granite, mixing R&B vibes with a distorted, aggressive undercurrent. There’s a sultry energy in the verses, but it never loses its sense of foreboding. It’s a head-nodder, and one that’ll hit hard in a live setting.
“Caramel” is next, and it’s a bold move. With a reggaeton-inspired beat, it’s unlike anything the band has done before. But again — it works. Somehow, it just works. The rhythms are infectious, the drumming from II is absolutely next-level, and the lyrics hit right in the gut. There’s something tragic buried in the sensuality of the song. Vessel pours it all out, and by the time it hits the final crescendo, you’re fully along for the ride.
Halfway through the album, we reach the title track — “Even In Arcadia.” This is where things get truly unguarded. It’s a raw, emotionally charged love song, built around one of Vessel’s most vulnerable vocal performances to date. There’s pain in his voice — real, trembling pain — and when the cello slides in during the outro, it’s genuinely harrowing. It’s a moment where everything else falls away, and you’re just left with emotion laid bare.
Then, just when you think the band might have spent it all, “Provider” throws another curveball — this time in the form of gospel-infused melodies. It’s an odd but beautiful surprise, and it goes to show just how fearless this band has become. There’s a spiritual weight to the track that feels more celebratory than sorrowful — like a hand reaching out in the dark.
“Damocles” — one of the album’s most well-rounded tracks — arrives with a cinematic slow-build that finally erupts into one of the most crushing choruses on the record. It’s haunting, atmospheric, and yet still punchy as hell. There’s something deeply primal about it, especially when the guitars kick in full force. This one’s been on repeat since it dropped — no wonder it’s a fan favourite.
“Gethsemane” is next, and it’s another left turn. Vessel floats through the track in falsetto for almost half its runtime, giving the song an ethereal, otherworldly feel. The drums absolutely shine here — intricate, expressive, and full of life. It eventually breaks into a heavier groove, only to fade out with a final twist into hip-hop territory. It’s a wild journey, and yet it somehow ties into the album’s bigger picture.
And finally, we arrive at Even In Arcadia’s closer — the monumental “Infinite Baths.” If Sleep Token wanted to leave us floored, they’ve done just that. It starts out soft and sultry, with harmonies and smooth sax melodies that wouldn’t feel out of place in a smoky jazz bar. But then, with absolutely no warning, the song drops hard. The music cuts out. Vessel unleashes a blood-curdling scream, and everything goes off the rails — in the best possible way. The final breakdown is arguably the heaviest thing they’ve ever recorded. It’s relentless, it’s disgusting, and it’s glorious.
Final Thoughts
Even In Arcadia is the kind of album that doesn’t just push a band forward — it redefines what they are. Sleep Token aren’t just blending genres anymore, they’re bending them to their will. There’s beauty here. There’s brutality. There’s vulnerability. It’s like ordering a fancy craft beer and finding out it’s got a shot of whiskey hiding in the bottom — smooth at first, then it knocks your teeth out.
Sleep Token’s latest offering isn’t trying to top Take Me Back To Eden — it’s building a whole new temple beside it.
Rating: 9/10
Standout Tracks: “Infinite Baths,” “Caramel,” “Damocles,” “Past Self”
Label: RCA Records
Crack a cold one, press play, and prepare to be baptised.
