In which the most divisive band in metal makes a record that will be divisive among its defenders. Their least metal offering, OCHL largely augments their blackgaze aesthetic with classic rock and piano balladering. Kerry McCoy wisely opts for sunset-purple watercoloring and arena-ready solos to augment George Clarke’s most impressionistic set of lyrics to date (“I have wondered about the language of flowers/ And you, elaborate mosaic, greeting me”). As a result, it’s (unsurprisingly) expertly paced and Deafheaven’s most emotional release. Is it happy? Rock? Black metal? None of that matters when an album is this fucking beautiful.