Sleep Token
– Even in Arcadia
Pulling off a shift from underground cult heroes to chart-topping headliners isn’t easy. Here, Sleep Token lean hard into their crossover moment—with mixed results. The album sometimes feels like it paces itself with pop-rap gestures instead of digging into its metal roots. Yet there are moments when it still plays like a ritual, not a product.
Best of…
What works best is when Vessel drops the veneer and gets real. On tracks like “Caramel” and “Damocles,” his confessions cut through the gloss—some genuine, some threatening to slide into cliché. The production glints in places, especially when metal elements bite, but too often the album glazes over before it rips back to life.
Still, there’s an undeniable ambition here. It’s a major-label debut that doesn’t shrink from the mainstream—it’s crafting for it. Some experiments land (a sax riff here, rap breakdowns there). Others fizzle out, leaving the listener wondering what might have been if they’d just honed in on the fury. This record isn’t perfect. But like all sleep-masked offerings, it’s hard to look away.
Choice Tracks
Emergence
Six-and-a-half minutes of tension and release. It winds through trap percussion and metal chugs, all building into a sax-fueled surge that pops the roof. This single reached UK #17—proof it strikes a chord, even if the genre-bending feels a bit showy.
Caramel
The band’s first top‑10 UK hit is a hybrid of R&B and prog-metal breakdown. Vessel sounds almost intimate before the guitars shatter the calm. It’s one of the few times the album’s mainstream leanings align with emotional weight.
Even in Arcadia
Pianistic and solemn. This one strips back everything—no gimmicks, just Vessel reminding you of his power. It functions like a mantra, or a prayer. Critics praised its sense of “critical judgment day,” and it hits with that weight.
Dangerous
Brooding and slow-building, until the guitars and drums blow the top off. It teeters on the edge of cohesion—some say it gets crowded, but others find its explosion riveting. It’s a microcosm of the album’s ambition and fault lines.
Even in Arcadia isn’t Sleep Token slipping into pop. It’s them sprinting—sometimes climbing, sometimes stumbling—as they chase it. It may lack full cohesion, but in the cracks you can see where they might land next.