Replete with sledgehammer riffs, intuitive deployment of sonic "light & shade", and lyrics drawing on ancient folk poetry, Elegy (1996) is certainly Amorphis's finest creation -- and probably one of the best rock albums of the 1990s.

Amorphis had already staked out a claim with the landmark, Tales from the Thousand Lakes, where their death metal roots were transformed by prog-rock influences and lyrics drawing from Finland's Kalevala legends. Elegy topok the process further, refining each element (and, lyrically, turning to the lesser known Kanteletar material). The result is the pinnacle of Amorphis's evolution from yet-another-Scandinavian-death-metal band to something truly unique and valuable. While their follow-ups, Tuonela and Am Universum, have their moments, they don't measure up to Elegy; it would be hard to in any case.

I'm not at all a fan of traditional death-metal "Cookie Monster" vocals, but those (that remain) on Elegy not only don't bother me, but actually seem to work. Quite a lot of the singing is done by a "clean vocal", who trades off with "cooooooooooookie" from one of the guitar players. This creates a genuinely interesting contrast of vocal styles, but more importantly it leaves the guitarists free to concentrate on the really important part of Elegy: the music. Every song spins out catchy guitar riff after catchy riff with lead breaks unashamedly drenched in the psychedelic wah and flange of what were clearly the players' 70s guitar-rock heros. There's a well-woven interplay between the guitars the no less retro, analogesque keyboards, which themselves not infrequently take the role of lead instrument. You could be forgiven for imagining you're hearing what might have happened if Jethro Tull and Deep Purple had grown up under the midnight sun, listening to Entombed and Slayer while dreaming of Sibelius. (The 70s rock influence is fully acknowledged in a cover of Hawkwind's "Levitation" on Elegy's accompanying EP release, My Kantele.)

It's hard to pick stand-out tracks on such a brilliantly conceived and executed album, but it's worth noting the opener, "Better Unborn", with an eastern-tinged jangling electric sitar (or is it a guitar?) intro recalling fellow-Finns Kingston Wall (whose "And I Hear You Call" is likewise covered on the My Kantele EP) that leads into a tight package of riffs, melody, and energy that generally characterizes the whole album. The title track, "Elegy", is a long, melancholy, and genuinely soulful keyboard-led piece. The two versions of "My Kantele", one a death-metal dirge and the other a primarily acoustic number with clean vocals, make an intriguing comparison and showcase Amorphis's ability to reconcile seemingly incompatible styles with taste, inteligence, and power.

Any fan of heavier psychedelic rock who isn't bothered by the death-metal stylings can hardly go wrong with Elegy.