On Friday, November 28, 2025, Swedish progressive metal masters Opeth returned to Tokyo for the first time since 2019, ending a six-year absence that had only intensified anticipation among Japanese fans. With just two Tokyo dates scheduled at Ex Theater Roppongi, tickets sold out quickly, once again proving the band’s enduring popularity in Japan. I had the privilege of photographing Opeth and covering their long-awaited return.
The tour arrived in support of The Last Will and Testament, the band’s fourteenth studio album. Unlike its predecessor, In Cauda Venenum, the new record marks the return of Mikael Åkerfeldt’s growled vocals, much to the delight of longtime fans. The lineup featured founding member Mikael Åkerfeldt on vocals and guitars, alongside Martín Méndez on bass, Fredrik Åkesson on guitars, Joakim Svalberg on keyboards, and drummer Waltteri Väyrynen, who joined the band in 2022.
The stage setup was stripped down to the essentials, with no backdrop or excess decoration, allowing the focus to remain entirely on the music. The show began almost exactly at 7:00 p.m. with “§1” from The Last Will and Testament. Although the venue was fully seated, the audience immediately rose to their feet, welcoming Opeth with loud cheers as dramatic lighting and thick smoke filled the room, setting a solemn and cinematic tone.
The band quickly looked back at their catalog. “Master’s Apprentices” from Deliverance lifted the energy instantly, followed by “The Leper Affinity” from Blackwater Park. The return of growled vocals drew an especially strong reaction, underscoring how powerful this material remains in a live setting. Åkerfeldt’s ability to move seamlessly between clean and harsh vocals — and the dramatic contrast between them — was one of the night’s most exciting highlights.
Each member brought something distinctive to the performance. Méndez, wearing a wool cap adorned with braided tassels, delivered thick, articulate bass lines, his fingerstyle playing cutting clearly through the dense arrangements. Åkesson’s precise and technical guitar work added sharpness and clarity, while Väyrynen confidently held everything together, navigating the band’s intricate rhythms with ease. When a spotlight fell on Svalberg, his elegant keyboard melodies felt almost divine, adding atmosphere without ever overpowering the music.
Returning to the new album with “§7,” Åkerfeldt paused to speak with the audience, sharing humorous anecdotes — including references to Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull and the band’s general avoidance of click tracks. This relaxed moment flowed naturally into “The Devil’s Orchard” from Heritage, prompting sections of the crowd to start headbanging. Damnation’s “In My Time of Need” followed, transforming the venue into a sea of gentle motion beneath purple smoke as many fans sang along quietly.
The intensity surged again with “The Grand Conjuration,” where aggressive lighting and growled vocals created a commanding, almost ritualistic atmosphere. Åkerfeldt continued joking between songs, explaining that he could not afford a proper lyric prompter and instead taped handwritten notes to the stage floor — which he could barely read anyway since he was not wearing his glasses. Laughter rippled through the venue before Opeth launched into “§3” from The Last Will and Testament, followed by the ferocious “Demon of the Fall” from My Arms, Your Hearse. As the set progressed, Åkerfeldt, Åkesson, and Méndez stepped closer to the front of the stage, increasing the sense of connection before closing the main set with “Ghost of Perdition” from Ghost Reveries.
The encore followed almost immediately after persistent calls from the audience. Åkerfeldt entertained various song requests, briefly teasing parts of classics such as “Closure,” “Windowpane,” and “Harvest.” The performance concluded with the epic “Deliverance,” its lengthy and hypnotic progression bringing the nearly two-hour show to a powerful and satisfying close.
Although only three songs from the newest album were included, the return of growled vocals allowed Opeth to draw evenly from across their catalog. The result was a remarkably well-balanced set, where heavy and quiet moments — as well as old and new material — coexisted naturally.
While the audience came primarily for the music, Åkerfeldt’s stage banter proved to be an equally important part of the experience. His stories, often touching on Japanese record shops, along with his dry and self-deprecating humor, kept the mood light and welcoming. Despite common concerns about language barriers in Japan, Åkerfeldt’s clear and accessible delivery made his English easy to follow, earning consistent laughter from the crowd. His personality alone is one of the reasons fans are eager to see Opeth live again and again.
Known for his love of analog gear and records, Åkerfeldt also spoke about the band’s preference for performing without click tracks. This approach allowed subtle communication between band members to remain visible, giving the show a sense of human warmth rarely found in modern productions.
Japanese audiences are often described as quiet and attentive, yet this night revealed something far more expressive. Fans headbanged during heavier sections, clapped along, waved their arms like conductors, sang together, or simply sat back and absorbed the music. Some appeared visibly moved to tears. Åkerfeldt’s relaxed presence encouraged everyone to enjoy the performance in their own way.
Opeth are unquestionably serious musicians creating emotionally weighty music, but Åkerfeldt’s lighthearted approach brought an ideal sense of balance. The constant shift between intensity and ease made the experience deeply satisfying — even addictive. After traveling through New Zealand and Australia before reaching Japan, the band delivered a remarkable show far from their home in Sweden, leaving the Tokyo audience grateful and eager for their next return.
