Coheed and Cambria - The Father of Make Believe Coheed and Cambria

If you heard “Blind Side Sonny,” the first single from Coheed and Cambria’s tenth album, The Father of Make Believe, then you probably noticed that something seemed different about the sci-fi-inspired New York prog legends. A two-minute, thrash-adjacent metal ripper whose chorus screams, “Blood! We want blood! We want blood!,” the track embodies an urgent, almost rabid desire to be heard clearly and felt intensely. “How many times have I heard the ‘underrated’ statement about us?” asks Claudio Sanchez. “It’s something that lives in all of our subconscious minds and has certainly played a role in making us who we are. This is a song of revenge.”

A funny thing happened as Sanchez — a master of translating reality into fantastical tales — began plotting Coheed’s latest. Yes, The Father of Make Believe carves out new sonic territory amidst all of the wailing guitars, drums that crack like fireworks, and Sanchez’s aching, powerful voice that centers us through moments both placid and pinwheeling. But where the set really forges new ground is in how Sanchez embraces the role of main character. He’s often used epic songcraft to mask the stories he wanted to tell: reflections on an addicted father, memories of his beloved grandfather, concern about raising a child in a cruel world, hopes and fears around the love of his life. This time, he’s writing more directly about his life and, especially, his unusual career. Sanchez is the Father of Make Believe, gazing down upon this world he's wrought.

“This record is a midlife crisis,” he chuckles. “I realized, 20-some-odd years in, I was struggling with the brand I've given myself: Am I satisfied being the science fiction rock ’n' roll guy when so much of my material comes from personal experiences?” Of course, Sanchez being Sanchez, Coheed’s wiki-writing legions of fans will still find plenty of rich character work, narrative flourish, and references to the running lore. But if you’re new here, there’s no homework required to tap directly into our host’s struggles and triumphs — although, you might get drawn in anyway.

Coheed and Cambria — which includes Travis Stever (lead guitar), Josh Eppard (drums), and Zach Cooper (bass) — emerged in the early 2000s wedged between an emo renaissance and a metal revival. While their peers broke hearts and banged heads, Sanchez and co. were crafting Game of Thrones-level fantasies around a storyline called The Amory Wars that unfurls across 78 planets collectively known as Heaven’s Fence. Eight of the band’s nine albums thus far (plus a small galaxy of comics and novels) dwell in this world — and so does The Father of Make Believe. It’s just that the sky is cracking now, revealing the guiding hand behind the scene.

To wit: “Goodbye, Sunshine,” a tension filled pop-punk track with chugging guitars and a chorus built for festival stages and arenas that imagines Sanchez having to bid farewell to, as he puts it, “the glorious time I’ve had in Coheed.” The feeling is grand, almost joyous, reminding us that even when Sanchez is ruminating on loss, he can pen a shout-along melody better than most. The song then careens into the stormy, fret-scaling “Searching for Tomorrow” which could just as easily be about Sanchez’ creative evolution or a hero’s journey. Then comes the title track, where over a knotted tapestry of shred and pounding kick, he sings, “I’m not how you remember me, I’m the vision that you chose to see / The one you can hate, or love as you need.”

“Throughout my career, I’ve navigated the insecurities of putting my truth out for the world to pick apart and scrutinize,” says Sanchez, reflecting on “The Father of Make Believe.” “I’ve chosen to keep the struggles of my life private out of respect and love to those people and events that inspired the art. When I can’t express myself in words, I express in worlds.”

But The Father of Make Believe showcases some of the band’s strongest songwriting to date precisely because Sanchez foregrounds his perspective. “Meri of Mercy” is a touching ode to Sanchez’s late grandparents, who’ve made cameos as characters before — the interplanetary couple Sirius and Meri Amory. With this new chapter of a song, he’s comfortable admitting that these fictions were a way to bring back his dearly departed family members. The piano-infused ballad is patient and gut-wrenching, written from the perspective of his grandpa, recently passed and reuniting with the woman he lost 40 years prior. “I miss him very much. My memories of him are so persistent,” says Sanchez. “I hope he’s with her.” At least for these four minutes, he is.

“Play the Poet” is a meta analysis on his role as a cultural figure, one who comes to the realization that his own story is as interesting as any he could make up. “Corner My Confidence” is an ode to his wife that he wrote on the Coheed cruise, S.S. Neverender. It’s a touching tribute that looks back on a rich past, but also, as is Sanchez’ wont, looks forward to the unthinkable inevitable. “With her, I’m at my strongest,” he says, “and I believe so much more in myself than I imagined was possible. A life without her is not one I want to imagine, but life is both beauty and cruelty.” On the driving rock song “Someone Who Can,” Sanchez essentially answers his earlier question about whether he’s satisfied with the creative path he’s taken: Yes? No? Who cares? “There’s no time to look back / Straight as arrows / Head to the light at the end of the road.”

One way to look at The Father of Make Believe is as Coheed and Cambria establishing a desire to move forward while honoring a remarkable history. Another: a series of questions, emotions, and thoughts at war with each other — “a war within myself,” as Sanchez puts it. “I’ve lost time defining ideas I want to see through. It’s beautiful to look back and enjoy it for what it was.” He pauses. “But there's no need to go back.” And why would he? Coheed are finding new ways to bring new listeners into their universe. The Amory Wars live on, but a new general is at the helm. Sanchez is ready to fight the battles he’s relegated to his imagination for all these years.