Devin Townsend – The Moth Review: A Monumental Symphonic Metal Masterpiece
I am reviewing the double vinyl edition, released through InsideOut Music / Sony Music, but The Moth is also available in a deluxe 3CD/Blu-ray edition which includes The Moth – The Afterlife, The Moth – The War (Live), a live film, Dolby Atmos and high-resolution stereo mixes. I have not heard the Dolby Atmos version yet, and I will be honest — having lived with the vinyl, I now really want to hear it. This music feels made for that kind of immersive surround experience.
This is not just another Devin Townsend album. The Moth has been described as his most ambitious work to date: an orchestral, choral and theatrical project over a decade in the making. It became a reality when Townsend was invited to collaborate with the North Netherlands Orchestra and Choir, and the studio version features a huge cast including Darby Todd, Mike Keneally, James Leach, Anneke Van Giersbergen and Lynn Wu, among others. It was recorded across more than ten countries and brings together hundreds of musicians, engineers, mixers and artists in what really does feel like an enormous creative ecosystem.
And that scale is there from the very beginning.
The opening “Semi-Prologue” is only a few minutes long, but it feels like the start of a film. It is orchestral, cinematic, gentle but grand, with voices, choir and atmosphere all setting the scene. Then “War Beyond Words” arrives and suddenly we are in full symphonic rock and metal territory. The drums are huge, the vocals are impassioned, and then the growls arrive. There are moments here where it feels as if this music could move mountains.
That is the extraordinary thing about The Moth. It is not simply heavy. It is not simply orchestral. It is not simply progressive. It feels like a metal musical, a rock opera, a soundtrack, a piece of theatre and a deeply personal Devin Townsend album all at once.
The title track is gone almost as soon as it appears, but it leaves this enormous impression — orchestral voices, choir, whispered vocals, that sense of Game of Thrones or The Lord of the Rings scale. “Ode to My Eye” is barely a minute, but it is soft, dramatic and moving. “Enter the City” brings the symphonic metal back in, with stirring guitars and choirs, and by the time “Covered by Causes” unfolds, the album has moved into full epic territory.
There are so many contrasts here. “Covered by Causes” begins almost as if the orchestra is tuning up, then erupts into something huge before turning into a driving rock song. There are moments where I thought of Renaissance, and perhaps even the pastoral beauty of Annie Haslam’s world, but with Devin’s darker, more menacing spirit moving through it. That is the balance of the album: beauty and menace, light and darkness, theatre and brutality.
“Lexin” brings in a heavy, stop-start rhythm and one of those angry Devin Townsend vocals that just cuts straight through. It has twists and turns, almost a funk-metal groove in places, and again the production is astonishing. Then there are these tiny linking pieces — “Runaways”, “A Proxy for God”, “The Mothers” — that feel like scenes in a film. You are not just hearing tracks; you are moving through a story.
“Orion” is one of the moments where the album opens out again. It starts almost lighter, even pop-like for a moment, before becoming driving rock with huge cinematic shifts. I wrote in my notes, “Imagine this on the bus,” and what I meant was this: if this album had arrived in my life when I was in my twenties, walking around Birmingham with my Walkman, it would have become the soundtrack to everything. It has that Bat Out of Hell scale, that sense of being larger than life.
In fact, one of the best ways I can describe The Moth is this: Jim Steinman on steroids, with metal, choirs, orchestras, theatre and everything thrown into the pot.
Then we reach “Home at Night”, and this is where I wrote down another phrase that I think sums up part of the album perfectly: Walt Disney meets Black Sabbath. It has the theatrical darkness of something like The Nightmare Before Christmas, but with metal weight and Devin’s astonishing vocal presence. The orchestration is massive, the atmosphere is gothic, and the performance is mesmerising.
Side three continues the drama. “The Clergy” is dark and mysterious, with male choir and strings, and “Prepare for War” is very much in Lord of the Rings territory — symphonic, heavy, dramatic and full of huge vocal moments. “The Big Snit” is intense, with male and female voices, shouted dialogue and choirs, while “Silver Princess” continues that sense of gothic grandeur. By this point, you really do feel as though every possible musical colour has been poured into this album.
“Metamorphosis” brings in an orchestral interlude and even what felt to me like a Frank Zappa-esque guitar moment, before “Stained Hearts” offers something closer to a rock ballad, with female vocals, choirs, heavy guitars and a melodic quality that briefly made me think of Steven Wilson’s more emotional territory. “Let Go” feels like a continuation, and then the album closes with “We Don’t Deserve Dogs”, returning to strings, choir and a final dramatic climax.
The structure of the album is important. The official track listing runs to 24 pieces, many of them short, almost like scenes or fragments, while others open up into larger set pieces. That could have made the album feel disjointed, but it does not. It flows like a film. It feels composed, not merely assembled.
I also need to mention the vinyl pressing. This is dynamic music, and you need to be able to hear the tiniest details as well as the enormous peaks. On the double vinyl edition I have, the pressing is excellent. Everything is housed properly, and the sound allows the quiet and loud moments to breathe. For music this ambitious, that really matters.
Is this album for casual listening? No. This is active listening. Sit down with it. Do not potter about. Do not have it on in the background while doing something else. This is an album to experience.
I put a lot of music on when I am reviewing, and Sue will sometimes look up and say, “What is this?” — and I can tell by the tone whether that means she is unsure, or whether something has caught her ear. With The Moth, only a few tracks in, she said it sounded like something from a film. That is exactly it. It is massive. It is visual. It is theatrical. It is overwhelming.
I adored Neal Morse’s recent album and thought that might be my album of the year. Then this came along. That is the problem with reviewing music as it arrives — you think you have found the one, and then something else appears that completely changes the conversation.
The Moth is unlike anything else I have heard this year. It may open a whole new world for Devin Townsend. It may also leave people wondering where on earth he goes next. After something this vast, perhaps the only move is to sit down with an acoustic guitar and make the smallest album possible.
But for now, this is the statement. This is the mountain. This is the metal opera. This is the film that has not yet been made.
Devin Townsend has created something extraordinary with The Moth. It is huge, emotional, theatrical, frightening, beautiful, heavy and strangely uplifting. It is the kind of music we need — music that reminds you why albums still matter.
Go and listen to it properly.
ORDER THE MOTH BY DEVIN TOWNSEND – VINYL EDITION
ORDER THE MOTH BY DEVIN TOWNSEND – CD EDITION
ORDER THE MOTH BY DEVIN TOWNSEND – SUPER DELUXE EDITION
Music is the healer and the doctor.
