It took me a minute to visit “Heavy Metal,” the solo debut from the Geese frontman, Cameron Winter, though I’ve heard a few stand-alone tracks by infiltration on the internet. I enjoyed them, however. I was apprehensive initially because I didn’t know if I cared for Winter’s voice purely at face value.
That initial superficial assessment progressively dissipated as I realized that Winter’s vocal performance not only brought a sense of familiar warmth amid discomfort but sounded like a once-in-a-lifetime live performance lustfully free of pop’s structural pressure and so uniquely executed that it felt like a privilege to access these recordings in LP form.
This is not to say that Winter doesn’t still sound off-kilter because he certainly does. Nevertheless, by the end of the intro track, “The Rolling Stones,” that voice is the same one that asks if you want another beer as you both embark on a night of camaraderie that is too intimate to find elsewhere.
Winter’s self-dictated vocal routes are particularly reminiscent of Morrissey, lead singer of the iconic 1980s goth-pop group the Smiths, as their compositional wanderlust still finds its place in the conventional pop(ish) hemisphere. Though it may be a stretch, “Heavy Metal” almost sounds as bare and deconstructed as “Fetch the Bolt Cutters” by Fiona Apple, but it is just not quite as meticulous and distinct beyond replication.
I’m a big fan of Van Morrison’s 1968 masterpiece “Astral Weeks,” as it is an early staple for folk/singer-songwriter mysticism that wanders into a realm of songwriting that offers ambiguity as its token of mutual curiosity. It doesn’t bother straining itself beyond the conventional realities of the human experience but instead prides itself in embracing the unknown and the boundless capacity of dreams. The compositions are only bound to the exhaustion of ideas simply as they are, not by the facade of having the answers to life.
Winter’s aimless indulgence calls to similar arms — Even the riskiest paths expose the wildest wonders.
“Nina + Field of Cops” emotes with the same conviction that prompted Jeff Mangum’s permanent significance among indie artists, as blossoming yet brooding piano ramblings twinkle and scatter ‘til Winter howls to the moon, concluding an epic episode of theatrics. “Nausicaä (Love Will Be Revealed)” hosts an incredibly straightforward groove that could lay the foundation for a low-tempo Michael McDonald demo. However, Winter’s lyricism is masked with a pseudo-hopefulness derived from a helpless affirmation that all the lovey-dovey cliches might come true if you convince yourself well enough.
“$0” is a poignant piano ballad that spares you the bull shit of feeling like anything more than nothing. Almost like a human void — until he intensely yet manically professes God’s legitimacy, as if religion is the only vessel to which he discovers personal worth. He sings about God with the same urgency and assurance as an evangelist but also the desperation of someone nearing death with nowhere to go.
The lyricism may appear nonsensical without hearing the voice it accompanies, as it is masterfully unusual, and the sheet music may be the same. John Cage manifested a career and legacy on structural nonsense.
“Heavy Metal,” much like “Astral Weeks,” is poetry-in-motion. Winter’s talent is none to take for granted, as his cathartic, confrontational presence transcends some of the most humane confessions that piece together the most puzzling parts of ourselves. He has undoubtedly proved his ability to grab your attention, whether or not you can handle what he plans to say. And you’re going to feel more than you hear.
Fav Track: Nina + Field of Cops, Love Takes Miles, $0
RIYL: silently suffering, the occasional N/A beer, starting over, somewhat experimental songwriters of the ‘60s, slushynoobz
Hard 4.5/5
cole manasco 