Album Review: Sleep Token, Even In Arcadia

Has Sleep Token Taken Over the World? 

It certainly seems so. At this point, if you haven’t heard of Sleep Token, either you live under a rock or your Spotify algorithm thinks you're still in 2012. With over 8 million monthly listeners and even a shout-out on the Grammy website, this UK band has officially leveled up from underground darling to full-blown cult, musically and maybe spiritually. Despite their pop and electronic influences, they’re still firmly rooted in the alternative scene. 

The new era of Sleep Token has begun—and there’s no denying it. Resistance is futile. Or at least aesthetically uncool. 

Even in Arcadia is the band's fourth album and their first under RCA Records. It’s also easily the most anticipated, fans spent months decoding cryptic messages and at one point, the fandom looked like it was cosplaying a forensics team. You half-expected someone to pull out a whiteboard and start connecting dots between biblical verses and DJ drops. 

The fanbase itself deserves an honorary mention. Not always for good reasons. These are people who analyze lyrics with the same intensity others reserve for court cases. They don’t just listen to Sleep Token. They major in it. A chaotic, passionate mess. 

The album itself is a blender of emotions, confused and somehow cohesive. It’s as if the creator and the creation merged in a fame-fueled identity crisis. The opening track, “Look to Windward” throws you into the deep end with haunting vocal harmonies and gloomy synths. The breakdown is stunning. And let’s be real: in 2025, a seven-minute track is basically a political statement. It’s like releasing a silent film on TikTok. 

One verse in particular stood me out: 

So give me the edge of a blade and a time and a place 

And I'll leave them cold and pushing up boulders 

Even in this garden of gardens, I am the god of the gaps 

I am the demon of Sodom, I am the blood of an angel 

The fate of the fallen, nobody knows where I came from 

This is when the album opens a narrative door only to shove you into a pitch-black room and whisper, “Good luck.” I mean, you have no idea what you’re about to trip over. 

"Emergence" was a single that, at first, made me raise an eyebrow (and not in a seductive way). Was that... R&B? maybe my emo soul just wasn’t ready to accept that not everything has to be screamed with distortion. Vessel leans into falsettos, flirts with djent, but nothing truly shocked me. I felt betrayed and comforted at the same time. Like a breakup text written in cursive. 

The track might be about transformation or maybe it’s Vessel gently admitting he’s lost control of the project. Maybe he’s writing a desperate letter to Eden. But the fact is, after a few listens, it grew on me. To the point where I hit replay just to feel that second verse hit. 

"Past Self" drags us further down the emotional rabbit hole. Here, Vessel starts lifting the mask, just enough to show us there’s a person behind the deity act. With callbacks to "Emergence," tasteful electronics, and lines like "Did I get this far for nothing, or are you the

reward?", it’s clear that underneath all the lore and dramatics, the character bleeds. And the listener feels it. 

"Dangerous" and "Provider" are the poppiest tracks on the album, arguably the most radio-friendly tracks. More polished, more palatable. Even with the radio sheen, they maintain Sleep Token’s weirdness. “Dangerous,” in particular, feels like Vessel is having a crisis in a very vibey therapy session. 

"Caramel" is pure tenderness. A gentle highlight—so gentle, in fact, it ended up viral in speed version, which, frankly, gives me hives. It’s like watching someone speed-run grief. And then... surprise reggaeton. It kind of works, kind of doesn’t. But Vessel’s voice floats beautifully between screams and serenity, holding it all together. 

And then comes "Even in Arcadia." My personal favorite. Yes, that one. The title track. Everyone online was fawning over "Gethsemane" and "Infinite Baths", and yes, I too was foaming at the mouth waiting for them. But then Even in Arcadia began, and I forgot all about the rest. Here I am quietly losing my mind to this gentle, melancholic piano piece. It’s ethereal. It’s haunted. It’s like getting hugged by a ghost. A paradise, or maybe a purgatory, where Vessel once again sings about wings a recurring symbol that flaps throughout the band.

"Damocles", the third single, feels like a spiritual Caramel’s introspective cousin. A reflective, melodic ballad that shifts the focus inward. A reminder that when you have power, the tightrope might look decorative but it can still hang you. As the fable goes. 

"Gethsemane", named after the garden where Jesus had his pre-crucifixion breakdown, is one of the rawest tracks. Genre-wise, it's a full buffet: trap, rap, djent, and a sprinkle of existential dread. Purist metalcore fans, cover your ears—it’s blasphemous. But that’s the point. Sleep Token never claimed to be metal. They only ever promised that they don't fit in a box. They eat the box. If Sleep Token were food, they’d be one of those Indian spice blends you can’t tell are sweet or salty, but you keep eating anyway. 

Finally, "Infinite Baths" ties the whole project together. Beautiful, aggressive, weirdly healing. Vessel's screams are cathartic, it’s cohesive, calculated chaos. Like the band’s final statement is: "Did you understand?" 

No? 

Perfect. 

They're wrapping up the album like a gift you didn’t ask for but can’t stop thinking about.

Conclusion: 

No, this isn’t Sleep Token’s best album. But it’s their loudest. Their most visible. Their most talked about. As someone who isn’t a die-hard fan but can’t seem to look away, I’ll say this: they’re doing something right. Or at least something and I can’t exactly look away because good luck avoiding them if you live in the metal/metalcore bubble. I have to admit: this band knows how to provoke interest.

I’ll stick around, trying to figure out where this is all going. And apparently also brushing up on chemistry. 

Because, in addition to decoding these lyrics, I now have to remember the damn periodic table.