Artist: Winds of Plague
Label: Century Media
Release: 2011
Length: 38:37
Rating: 4/5
Miracles happen, and every now and then you find something edible in a ton of crap! After nearly a decade of angrily pouring rage and ideas into the chalices of a stubborn generic alloy of metal, HC and darkened soul abscesses, once in a while a record still surprises you by packing a bit more ideas and musicality than the gray, miserable average of a watered-down army of clones. That could be a fitting cue for announcing that the damn little disc from Southern California brutalizers Winds Of Plague has been out since April 2011. Does the name not exactly conjure up a clear image of some star-studded lineup, and you’re not feeling particularly enlightened by it? No worries, since the quintet from the little town of Upland has only been on the scene with its symphonic deathcore blackness since 2002 (or would “already” be a better fit than “only”?). This year’s record Against The World is already their fourth in a row, and besides the fascination with samurai codes and the legacy of the executioner’s, merciless doctrine from the land of the rising sun, what takes center stage this time is a colorfully mixed bag of not-so-unknown star names, whose guest spots give the record a somewhat more pronounced and, above all, more digestible shine. But let’s leave the guests aside and focus on the originality of the main core of Winds Of Plague’s primary musical core. The yardstick we’ll measure them with this time is tailored to their new great mind.
After the very first spin of Against The World it becomes crystal clear that the guts of this deathcore beast hide a feel for the symphonic that we’re more used to from Abigail Williams, Cradle Of Filth, Dimmu Borgir and a similar alliance of theatrical metal surprises. Still, under a ton of superbly produced sound you can hear plenty of anthemic keyboard melodies that are a lot more than a mere imitation of the circus performers of pentagrams and hellish blackness. At their core, Winds Of Plague are far simpler and more generic. You could guess as much from the origin of the band’s name, which sinks its roots into the soft tissue of metalcore’s legacy and Unearth (the name Winds Of Plague comes from their song Endless off the EP of the same name from 2002). After the symphony inspired by Tim Burton and his feel for the allure of darkness and dying, Raise The Dead, the track One For The Butcher serves up a more primal HC call and a more natural contour of a free-flowing rhythm. A methodical lean toward the mystic contours of Eastern tonalities shakes hands with solidly seasoned crushing riffs and string sequences that try to keep pace with the anger while obediently bowing to the obligatory heaviness. There are plenty of cinematic moments where the feeling of nonstop rage breaks up and gets lost. The vocals of the bitter orator of destruction, slaughter and war campaigns, singer Johny Plague Cooke, are energetically complemented by at times truly inventive guitar passages from the Eash – Piunno guitar duo and drum fills from the predictable Art Cruz. More than Andrew Glover’s low bass frequencies (which you can hardly hear anywhere on the record), what’s pushed to the front is the keyboard sector of the battlefield, packed with effects and anthemic sounds and manned by Alana Potocnik (allegedly a second- or third-generation descendant of Slovenian immigrants).
An ominous choir of children’s voices chants the mantra: “Peel away the earth and raise the dead. / Back from the grave to strike again. / We have come as children of the night. / Sworn to drain everything of life” and before you know it, the hypnotic repetition of the chant lulls you into a state of cathartic disconnection between your brain and your hearing centers. The formula stays unchanged in what follows with Drop The Match, while the naive anthem Built For War hits you with a burst of tenderness in the words “A day without blood is like a day without sunshine / All I need is this firepower at my side / I write to you from this recon to hell / Never had a chance / Here we go, kill, kill, kill” and fills you with fumes of total rage – but only if you’re shallow and fall for a pickup line on the first try … The vocal complement to Johnny’s demonic voice from the more old-school, HC-sworn Hatebreed man Jamey Jasta is just the overture to an excess of guest throats. Next in line, Mattie Montgomery of For Today proves himself already on Refined In The Fire, and Drew York, otherwise the singer of the band Stray From The Path (less known in Slovenia), tries to outdo him on Monsters.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nNYykMMo328
The rather predictable build-up and ejaculation into pools of eruptive pomp gets cut off, thank the gods of the unholy pantheon, by the less pretentious and, above all, guest-free Most hated, which in a symphonic way sounds like a cross between death metal, black metal, Bach fugues and the soundtrack to the killing spree of a bionic samurai warrior on fields strewn with impaled jazz musicians. A masterpiece that’s hard to top? Then you haven’t yet heard the gentle overture of the unexpected guitar-and-piano track Only Song We’re Allowed To Play In Church Venues. Even though it’s a joke at their own expense, it’s exactly this that shows off all the skill and musical know-how the band’s musical makeup undoubtedly has in abundance. A high-octane derivative of wild energy explodes in your face with the force of Katrina in California, where the Plagues are joined by the striking Terror singer Martin Stewart, otherwise also a former member of the legendary Bad Manners, and Josh Mishima. After the closing act Strength To Dominate, in which I feel the energy of Sick Of It All on metal steroids, there’s nothing left to add, though plenty could gladly be cut and forgotten.
In fact, Against The World is bursting with ambition and a need to prove itself, which you can sense in every sonically documented moment of this really well-produced record. The band undoubtedly has talent, but they burden themselves excessively with sheer form and genre rules. The record is solid and rich, theatrical, and in its own way pompous and brilliant. That’s exactly why it’s easier to listen to than bands like, say, Carnifex, The Red Chord, Emmure and, conditionally, Whitechapel, though there’s still plenty of room to improve a sound that can’t escape descriptions like “brutal,” “epic” or “overblown.” The record is sturdy and settles scores with the doubters like an executioner, but it’s still missing a pinch of something that would let you put them on the altar of worship next to the likes of The Black Dahlia Murder, that is, if a sonic slaughterhouse is your thing. We can definitely look forward to a very colorful continuation of the catalog from the fingers of craftsmen who give the genre a shade more variety and diversity. Winds Of Plague are, at times, quite brilliant at washing away and softening that feeling of generic!
Lineup
Jonathan “Johnny Plague” Cooke – vocals
Nick Eash – guitar
Nick Piunno – guitar
Andrew Glover – bass
Art Cruz – drums
Alana Potocnik- keyboards
Guest musicians:
– James Jasta – backing vocals on 4
– Mattie Montgomery – backing vocals on 5
– The Ultimate Warrior – backing vocals on 6
– Drew York – backing vocals on 8
– Martin Stewart – backing vocals on 11
– John Mishima – backing vocals on 11
Production
Matt Hyde
Tracklist
1. Raise the Dead
2. One for the Butcher
3. Drop the Match
4. Built for War (feat. Jamey Jasta)
5. Refined in the Fire (feat. Mattie Montgomery)
6. The Warrior Code (feat. The Ultimate Warrior)
7. Against the World
8. Monsters (feat. Drew York)
9. Most Hated
10. Only Song We’re Allowed to Play in Church Venues
11. California (feat. Martin Stewart & John Mishima)
12. Strength to Dominate
