In the ever-conservative metal community, In Flames are most notorious for their change in sound. After the initial stumble of 1994's Lunar Strain, the Gothenburg-based quintet released The Jester Race, Whoracle, and Colony. This trilogy is widely considered In Flames' "classic" period. In contrast to the rough-hewn death metal of the early 90s, the Swedish melodic variant sped up Iron Maiden and replaced singing with growling. The result was aggressive yet accessible. Peers like Dark Tranquillity and At the Gates helped propagate the Gothenburg sound, but In Flames were arguably its bellwether by being its least idiosyncratic. Though limited to standard minor tonalities, their riffs and harmonies were exuberant and sometimes epic. Imitators quickly arose; the guitar harmonies of today's metalcore and emo owe much to In Flames.
On 2000's Clayman, the band began to tinker with its formula. Riffs contained more space, and clean tones occasionally leavened the heaviness. Clayman was the transition to In Flames' current sound, which began with the aptly named Reroute to Remain. Industrial/electronic touches popped up, as did male and female singing. A slight rock feel began to alloy the previous metallic precision. For metal, such changes were experimental, but they yielded a more mainstream sound (one later-era video featured a most un-metallic wet t-shirt car wash). Accordingly, In Flames' appeal broadened and now they shift six figures per record.
A Sense of Purpose continues along this path, and is neither the triumph nor disaster it has been held up to be. Its one experiment is an eight-minute attempt at Radiohead that feels much longer. Otherwise, the band revisits its latter-day ideas: hooky riffs, mid-paced tempos, and a tug-of-war between rock's immediacy and metal's ambition. "The Mirror's Truth" and "Delight and Angers" are basically the same song, toggling between simplistic riffs and baroque harmonies. "Move Through Me" is a dead ringer for Soilwork, a Swedish colleague whose artistic trajectory has mirrored In Flames'. Anders Fridén is still screaming about nothing, though his disclosure that "I feel like shit/ But at least I feel something" is clumsily poignant. The plodding "Alias" is catchy through perseverance, ramming home its melody until the listener capitulates.
Yet grace abounds. Eighteen years into their career, In Flames wield a subtle instrumental fluency, almost in spite of their songs. Adherents like Shadows Fall and Killswitch Engage merely run through thirds-based harmonies, but In Flames dissect and upend them. The guitar break in "The Mirror's Truth" flowers into luscious blues bends and darting neoclassical runs. The fluid solo in "Move Through Me" recalls Marty Friedman's succulent licks in Megadeth. "I'm the Highway" has soaring harmonies that evoke In Flames' classic records. The bridge in "Alias" is also old hat, but it's some of the tastiest acoustic work in metal since Metallica's glory days. Unlike that band's wild stylistic leaps, In Flames have steadily continued to advance the ball. They may not gain much yardage sometimes, but they're still in possession.
