I started 2020 with the realization that Baroness could do no wrong, and that I might as well just buy their entire catalog. Red was the first record I purchased in 2020, and so there’s a certain poetry to the fact that Yellow & Green—the final missing piece in my collection—was the last I purchased.
It’s admittedly an odd choice to purchase this record last—by most accounts, Yellow & Green is their masterpiece: a massive, sprawling double album that finalizes their transformation from sludge metal heroes to genre-defying Metal Gods. It was perhaps that monstrous reputation that me tentative to approach it, but every second of this album lives up to its legacy.
First things first, this record is enormous, with an eighteen tracks playlist that clocks in at 75 minutes. While released as a double album, it might be more helpful to think of it as two separate albums. Bandleader John Dyer Baizley (who also paints all of their incredible album covers) even recommended taking a break between the halves to experience them as separate works. But since I need to get back to work as a long after a long Christmas break, I won’t be doing that.
Each half starts with an instrumental track setting the motif for that section. “Yellow Theme” is subdued and morose while “Green Theme” is far more aggressive and almost triumphant. That said, the two discs are not as clearly divided along those lines. Green has its own share of ballads, and there is plenty of heaviness and rock and roll energy on the Yellow side—”Take My Bones Away” and “March to the Sea” have plenty of adrenaline and testosterone while maintaining a strong melodic presence. That said, they feel absolutely no pressure to maintain any illusion of toughness. A large portion of the track list crosses into ballad territory, with songs like “Twinkler,” “Eula,” and “Stretchmarker” ending up almost entirely absent of riffs. But somehow, they still hit just as hard as the rock tracks.
According to Baizley, the band started to shift the way they thought about heaviness while writing this record, realizing that they had matured beyond the usual tools of downtuned guitars and loud drums. Instead, they tried to push into emotional heaviness. And for my money, it worked. “Twinkler” is one of the most heartfelt songs I’ve ever heard by any band—metal or otherwise. “Mtns. (The Crown & Anchor)” has similarly virtuosic guitar lines as the heavy tracks, but played largely on acoustic guitar.
It’s not just a vacillation between heavy loud and heavy emotional though—there’s plenty of psychedelic experimentation, such as the skittering “Psalms Alive,” the tumbling “Back Where I Belong,” or the near-funk of “Cocainium” which has moments that get incredibly close to Pink Floyd.
Admittedly, this record is far too much to digest in a handful of listens. This album demands to become part of the regular rotation in order to be fully appreciated. But thanks to the strength of the instrumentation and the depth of the songwriting, that’s not anything I’d have an objection to.