Forest Stream’s debut, Tears of Mortal Solitude promised interesting things, a melange of black metal coldness with imperious, Katatonia-inspired gothic melody. It’s an intriguing combination, and perhaps an under-explored one. But that album was also severely frustrating. It had a strong sense of atmospheric tunefulness that drew you in through a promising introduction. So it was a perplexing letdown when the first real track proper belly-flopped in, with a synth heavy sound that could hardly punch a hole through wet cardboard with a knuckleduster. The lack of metallic punch is was a real shame, because there were undoubtedly good ideas here. When in (intentionally) gentle mode Forest Stream manage to construct intriguing, mellifluously proggy moments that reminded me of real stars such as In the Woods.

So, what of 2009’s The Crown of Winter? As the creepy ambience of intro Feral Magic seeps subtly into my ears, I wonder whether it’s going to be just as anti-climactic when track 2 arrives. But it isn’t, fortunately. The metal guitars are more pronounced, meaning that they accomplish the crucial first step of avoiding that cruellest of fates; being overpowered by a synthesised string section. The beefed up sound is also slower and doomier, frequently moving even further from black metal, and whilst it hardly reaches the level of power of a Mourning Beloveth, their deftness with proggy melody (which can admittedly sometimes be excessively twee) makes this actually quite attractive, in a gentle, gothy way. In some of the janglier piano arpeggios and spacey orchestral experimentation that adorn epics such as the title track, there is also a strong hint of Arcturus, no less. Yes, so far, a huge step up. When the blackness does resurface, as on Bless You To Die, the logical temptation to plough into a Dimmu-like symphonic jolly is resisted, and exuberant clean lead guitar lines are drafted in to soar above the surprisingly dark abyss.

Then, you also have tracks such as Mired, with clever mixes of heart-string-tugging melodic melancholia and powerful chugging melodeath, equipped with soulful lead harmonies, that remind me extremely strongly of some classic mid-period Opeth tracks (Godhead’s Lament, that sort of thing). In fact, some tunes here comes closer to that particular sound than anything full-time imitators I’ve heard. The frighteningly named Sonm the Darkest cannot touch Akerfeldt’s clean vocals, of course, but he has a growl that can more than hold its own. At times, it seems like they’ve put away the Katatonia for good and reached for the Still Life, which has done them a world of good. It’s far from perfect. As I said, it can be too twee at times, too flowery and delicate with the orchestral and piano additions. And the attempt at acerbic experimentalism on Beautiful Nature doesn’t seem to come off, despite a powerful juddering climax. But hell, the most crippling weaknesses have largely been erased.

I must say, I had almost written this off before it started, so unamused was I by Tears of Mortal Solitude. But this is not bad at all. A total transformation. Each track is saying something different, but the whole thing is submerged in powerful melody from start to finish. Really well done; I never thought I’d be able to say it, but I’m looking forward to the next Forest Stream album.