Mariano Regidor, Redferns \/ Iwi Onodera, Redferns \/ Bryan Rolli, Loudwire<\/span><\/p> Many standout Porcupine Tree<\/a> ballads (such as \u201cI Drive the Hearse<\/a>,\u201d \u201cStop Swimming<\/a>,\u201d \u2018Half-Light<\/a>\u201d and \u201cThe Rest Will Flow<\/a>\u201d) consist of little more than a few chords and a relatively basic melody. It\u2019s precisely that purity that makes them so superb, though, and the closing track from the band\u2019s best record<\/a> \u2013 2002\u2019s In Absentia<\/em> \u2013 is the greatest proof of that.<\/p>\n Likely unconnected to the overarching serial killer theme of the LP, \u201cCollapse the Light Into Earth\u201d finds mastermind Steven Wilson<\/a> singing with absolute dejection over a straightforward but affective piano motif. That\u2019s almost all there is to it, but it\u2019s still incredibly harrowing because of how its ethereal echoes and defeated tone convey a disquieting acceptance of loss.<\/p>\n It\u2019s as if Wilson is half-heartedly reassuring the person that he\u2019ll be okay as he reflects on their separation during the evening (when the sun seemingly collapses into the earth). It\u2019s a universally relatable mindset (\u201cI won’t heal given time \/ I won’t try to change your mind \/ I won’t feel better in the cold light of day \/ But I wouldn’t stop you if you wanted to stay\u201d<\/em>), and the influx of luscious strings and downright heavenly harmonies near the end add to its grief-stricken splendor.<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n Mastodon<\/a> are known for their erratic prog\/psych\/stoner metal voyages, so \u201cCold Dark Place\u201d somewhat wins by default since there are only a handful of ballads in their discography. Nevertheless, the title track to their 2017 EP exemplifies their debatably underappreciated knack for distilling vulnerability and anguish into sophisticatedly evocative art.<\/p>\n According to former<\/a> lead guitarist\/vocalist Brent Hinds<\/a>, the entire four-track collection represents<\/a> \u201cthe concept of living and how much it hurts to f\u2014king be alive.\u201d Specifically, Hinds wrote the \u201cdark, beautiful, spooky, funky, ethereal, melancholy music\u201d as a means of processing<\/a> a \u201cnasty breakup,\u201d and that\u2019s particularly evident throughout \u201cCold Dark Place.\u201d<\/p>\n Hinds\u2019 routinely forceful Southern drawl instead conjures desperation as he pines for the little things they once shared (namely, physical and emotional intimacy). Lyrically, it\u2019s laudably poetic and private, and although Mastodon inject characteristic feistiness at the end, the majority of \u201cCold Dark Place\u201d is structured around rustic guitar arpeggios and haunting textures that impeccably capture Hinds\u2019 lovesick torment.<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n Very much building upon the vibe of its instrumental precursor<\/a> (which did<\/em> appear on the official version of Blackwater Park<\/em>), \u201cPatterns in the Ivy II\u201d is an exquisite example of how the simplest tunes can be the most effective (especially in terms of band leader Mikael \u00c5kerfeldt<\/a> personifying sorrow with nothing more than gorgeously melancholic words and gentle acoustic guitarwork).<\/p>\n \u201cWithout you, I cannot confide in anything \/ The hope is pale designed in light of dreams you bring<\/em>,\u201d <\/em>\u00c5kerfeldt\u00a0begins, and from there, he continues molding a chillingly beautiful lamentation (complete with ghostly harmonies) that solidifies him as arguably the best songwriter of his genre and generation. \u201cPatterns in the Ivy II\u201d doesn\u2019t last long, but its impact is certainly eternal.<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n You might not expect a band\u2019s best ballad to arrive fairly late into their catalog, but that\u2019s what happened with Symphony X<\/a> and the title track to their seventh studio record (from 2007). By no means their peak tune<\/a> from their sturdiest sequence<\/a>, \u201cParadise Lost\u201d is still a monumentally stirring composition (co-written by the\u00a0dynamic duo<\/a>\u00a0of guitarist Michael Romeo and keyboardist Michael Pinnella).<\/p>\n Its foundation of looping piano patterns, acoustic guitar strums and\u00a0divine\u00a0strings provides the ideal backing for Russell Allen<\/a>\u2019s magnificent bellows and romantic verses (\u201cMy yearning is silenced by angelic skin of white \/ Love conquers all, though heavens fall this fateful night\u201d<\/em>). True, \u201cParadise Lost\u201d offers a familiar combination of Symphony X trademarks, but they coalesce into a particularly welcoming, graceful and powerful outcome that epitomizes their ability to prioritize first-class songwriting and fitting accompaniments over their signature flashiness.<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n Beyond being the strongest (and strangest) set<\/a> from England\u2019s Haken<\/a>, 2013\u2019s The Mountain<\/em> is among the best progressive rock\/metal albums of the 2010s. Seriously, every<\/em> song is fantastic, and as with most top-tier records, it leaves listeners in awe with its final statement: \u201cSomebody.\u201d<\/p>\n Frontman Ross Jennings has rarely sounded so elegantly upset, with his soaring falsetto and backing vocals expressing delicate and isolated misery. Meanwhile, his bandmates coat his pristine wails with equally tasteful and tragic instrumentation. It\u2019s a haunting basis, for sure, and even though Haken throw in some emblematic quirkiness, heaviness and complexity during the second half (including Gentle Giant<\/a>-like interlocking vocal rounds), \u201cSomebody\u201d never loses sight of its sensitive core.<\/p>\n Of course, and its shortened acoustic reimagining \u2013 \u201cNobody<\/a>\u201d \u2013 is damn good, too.<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n As with Opeth\u2019s \u201cPatterns in the Ivy II,\u201d this masterpiece from 1999\u2019s\u00a0Metropolis Pt. 2: Scenes from a Memory<\/a><\/em> already got the nod as Dream Theater<\/a>\u2019s best non-\u201cepic\u201d song earlier this year. Unsurprisingly, our opinion hasn\u2019t changed in the few months since, with \u201cThe Spirit Carries On\u201d \u2013 written by guitarist John Petrucci<\/a> \u2013 remaining the quintet\u2019s finest work when it comes to creating a poignant composition that touches every<\/em> listener for one reason or another.<\/p>\n Naturally, its soothing piano chords, resolute drumming, pensive acoustic guitar chords and wistful yet hopeful sentiments are the perfect way to wrap up the LP\u2019s profound story. That said, its power extends beyond the confines of that concept, with frontman James LaBrie<\/a>\u2019s reflections and encouragements (\u201cMove on, be brave \/ Don’t weep at my grave \/ Because I am no longer here \/ Please never let your memory of me disappear\u201d<\/em>) striking a chord with anyone who\u2019s had to preserver through tragedy.<\/p>\n Drummer Mike Portnoy<\/a> even dedicated it to his late sister<\/a>, Samantha, during an October 2024 concert, resulting in one of the most moving moments in Dream Theater\u2019s entire concert history.<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n Queensr\u00ffche\u2019s superlative track<\/a> is easily \u201cEyes of a Stranger<\/a>,\u201d but it\u2019d be a stretch to call it a ballad, right? So, we\u2019re going with the admittedly obvious pick of the\u00a0Grammy-nominated<\/a>\u00a0\u201cSilent Lucidity,\u201d as it\u2019s a major reason why Empire<\/em> is the peak of Queensr\u00ffche\u2019s \u201890s output<\/a> and<\/em> one of the best records from that decade. (It also launched the band into the mainstream<\/a>.)<\/p>\n Oddly enough\u00a0\u2013\u00a0given how big it became\u00a0\u2013 \u201cSilent Lucidity\u201d wasn\u2019t Empire<\/em>\u2019s lead single. Rather, it was the third track released on its own, and per ex-singer Geoff Tate<\/a>, guitarist Chris DeGarmo wrote it after reading Creative Dreaming<\/em> by Patricia Garfield and pondering the wonders of lucid dreaming and \u201chow to tap into your subconscious.\u201d<\/p>\n It\u2019s no wonder, then, why the lovely serenade has a dreamlike feel vocally and musically, with gentle six-string fingerpicking, reserved rhythms and Tate\u2019s one-of-a-kind blend of somber observations and heated outcries yielding an inevitable hit. Yes, it\u2019s atypically mild and radio-friendly, but that doesn\u2019t get in the way of its reassuring glory.<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n Like Mastodon, there\u2019s a scarce number of ballads strewn across Between the Buried and Me<\/a>\u2019s career, so it wasn\u2019t exactly hard\u00a0to decide that the country-tinged \u201cDesert of Song\u201d (from 2009\u2019s criminally underappreciated The Great Misdirect<\/a><\/em>) is their best one.<\/p>\n Marking a rare co-lead vocal performance from guitarist Paul Waggoner<\/a>, \u201cDesert of Song\u201d\u00a0oozes\u00a0the arid warmth that largely permeates the entire disc. In fact, Waggoner\u2019s sterner singing \u2013 combined with the song\u2019s leisurely acoustic strums and slide guitar \u2013 make it positively pastoral, and Waggoner\u2019s timbre works surprisingly well alongside the more expressive voice of keyboardist Tommy Rogers<\/a>.<\/p>\n \u201cDesert of Song\u201d gets a tad gutsier as it goes, but it remains abnormally mellow throughout, and despite still being somewhat abstract, Rogers\u2019 lyrics are surprisingly down to earth (\u201cThe radios stopped tuning \/ This static is forbidden \/ The chords quit strumming \/ But we found our new home. . . . Here, we’re awake in the desert of song \/ The silence is broken\u201d<\/em>). Whereas so much of BTBAM\u2019s brilliance comes from their challengingness (in every respect), \u201cDesert of Song\u201d is accessibly uneasy.<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n If any act on this list is known for their emotional radiance, it\u2019s prog metal titans TesseracT<\/a> (to the point that you\u2019d have a\u00a0tougher\u00a0time choosing a composition that doesn\u2019t<\/em> pack a relatably distraught punch). That said, it\u2019s probably not surprising that their finest ballad \u2013 \u201cTourniquet\u201d \u2013 comes from their finest collection<\/a>: 2015\u2019s Polaris<\/em>.<\/p>\n Using the titular medical device as a metaphor for how love can \u201cstop the bleeding\u201d and help singer Daniel Tompkins \u201ccontain the pressure[s]\u201d that surrounds him, the piece is a serene collage of pensive soundscapes and impassioned vows. Tompkins\u2019 falsetto is virtually unrivaled in terms of angelic angst \u2013 especially when it\u2019s this multilayered \u2013 and the rest of TesseracT decorate his confessions with intoxicating magnificence.<\/p>\n Expectedly, \u201cTourniquet\u201d taps into TesseracT\u2019s penchant for djent destructiveness, too, but only at the end, and it complements \u2013 rather than overshadows \u2013 the prevailing poignancy.<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n Genre-splicing Canadian genius Devin Townsend<\/a> is easily the most versatile artist on this list, as he can oscillate between mind-bending weirdness<\/a>, sophomoric jokiness, demonic heaviness and introspective\/transcendental blissfulness on the same album<\/em>! As such, he\u2019s penned several lovely ballads across several projects (\u201cLady Halen<\/a>,\u201d \u201cDivine<\/a>,\u201d \u201cWhy<\/a>,\u201d \u201cStorm<\/a>\u201d etc.)<\/p>\n All of them competed for this spot, but when push comes to shove, it’s the modest but invigorating sincerity of \u201cIh-Ah!\u201d (from The Devin Townsend Project<\/a>‘s 2009 opus,\u00a0Addicted<\/em>) that best represents his ability to mine gold from steadfast \u2013 if sappy \u2013 affection, wonder and commitment.<\/p>\n Featuring invaluable backing vocals from Susanne Richter, \u201cIh-Ah!\u201d exudes Townsend\u2019s typical mix of philosophy and pragmaticism as it tenderly (yet operatically) expresses love between two people (or even a grander love for all<\/em> life in the universe). Its sleekly unassuming music adds to its charming spiritual intensity, and like a lot of Townsend\u2019s greatest feats, it inspires the listener to value the present and feel comfortable with the uncertain future.<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n Although they frequently deal with lighter atmospheres and instrumentation, Poland\u2019s Riverside<\/a> have produced just as many ferocious highlights since they began in the early 2000s. All the while, they\u2019ve showcased top-notch songwriting and vocals (due largely to the full-bodied but vulnerable singing Mariusz Duda). In that respect, they\u2019ve never been better than on this heartbreaking selection from their 2004 debut sequence \u2013 and inaugural chapter of their \u201cReality Dream\u201d trilogy \u2013 Out of Myself<\/em>.<\/p>\n Centered around romantic yearning and self-doubt, \u201cI Believe\u201d is an acoustic ballad (with gentle nuances and thematically rich sound effects) in which Duda\u2019s lead vocals and stacked harmonies embody regret and longing in their purest forms. The arrangement that surrounds him is perfectly suited to enhance his pain, too, particularly with late guitarist Piotr Grudzi\u0144ski<\/a>\u2019s Gilmour<\/a>-esque accompaniments.<\/p>\n Riverside have created numerous breathtaking odes over the past 20 years, but none hit as hard as \u201cI Believe.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/article>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\nPorcupine Tree, “Collapse the Light Into Earth”<\/h2>\n
Mastodon, “Cold Dark Place”<\/h2>\n
Opeth, \u201cPatterns in the Ivy II\u201d<\/h2>\n
<\/strong>We previously named this leftover cut from Opeth<\/a>\u2019s breakthrough LP (2001\u2019s Blackwater Park<\/a><\/em>) the best non-\u2018epic\u2019 song<\/a> from the Swedish troupe, so it automatically gets Opeth\u2019s spot here. Even when reevaluated in comparison to their many other wonderful ballads \u2013 including \u201cBurden<\/a>,\u201d \u201cStill Day Beneath the Sun<\/a>,\u201d \u201cIsolation Years<\/a>\u201d and \u201cTo Bid You Farewell<\/a>\u201d \u2013 \u201cPatterns in the Ivy II\u201d simply can\u2019t be beaten.<\/p>\nSymphony X, \u201cParadise Lost\u201d<\/h2>\n
Haken, “Somebody”<\/h2>\n
Dream Theater, “Scene Eight: The Spirit Carries On\u201d<\/h2>\n
Queensr\u00ffche, “Silent Lucidity”<\/h2>\n
Between The Buried and Me, “Desert Of Song”<\/h2>\n
TesseracT, “Tourniquet”<\/h2>\n
Devin Townsend, “Ih-Ah!”<\/h2>\n
Riverside, \u201cI Believe\u201d<\/h2>\n
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