Deja Vu: Nightwish’s Yesterwynde

Although I’ve largely avoided writing reviews this year, it was difficult to keep quiet about a new Nightwish album, because obviously they are a seminal band in symphonic metal, but also because they at one point delivered a legitimate album of the year in 2011 for Imaginaerum (in my revisionist, corrected list that is). Yet as opposed to just immediately writing an album review for Yesterwynde like everyone else, I wanted to let this thing digest for a bit internally, and for the dust to settle around it’s release as well. I’ve read scattered opinions on this album, the band’s first without bassist/co-vocalist Marco Hietala since 2001’s Wishmaster (which sounds unreal but yeah, its true), and have felt that a consensus has begun to emerge that largely centers on indifference from most. Yes the Nightwish faithful are still attenuated to Tuomas’ lyrics here in a way that few other metal bands experience, but I was admittedly a little bit surprised at just how quickly this new album was listened to, commented on, and dismissed by the symphonic and power metal communities at large.

For all the criticism 2020’s Human. :||: Nature. received, it was the subject of furious discussion for weeks on end when it was released — granted we were all of us sitting at home because of the pandemic and had nothing but time on our hands, but I remember there being real agitation and annoyance at that album’s indulgences, at its underuse of Floor Jansen’s talent, its marginalization of Marco Hietala’s vocals, and its opulent instrumental second disc that gave new meaning to the term pretentious. But in the now month and a half that’s passed since Yesterwynde’s release, I’ve not seen the same amount of discussion about it anywhere really. The posts on various metal subreddits about the album aren’t tracking in the hundreds of comments Nightwish album usually garners, the album got a cursory discussion in the r/PowerMetal discord, and I don’t recall anyone on Facebook or Twitter or Threads discussing it at length. I’ve come to feel that maybe, and this is just my admittedly singular perspective… most of the people out there that would have had an interest in Nightwish’s work previously have become indifferent. So why general indifference? Why not the tidal back and forth of opinions between those who find Nightwish can’t do much wrong versus those who think Tuomas Holopainen has his head up somewhere?

So I think the obvious culprit would be the music itself, which I will say off the bat is certainly an improvement over Human. :||: Nature (I really resent the punctuation in that album’s title). Wisely selected singles such as “Perfume of the Timeless” and “An Ocean of Strange Islands” are indeed made of the same ingredients that formulated so much vintage Nightwish of yore, though criticisms against their mixing are hugely warranted. Floor’s vocals were intentionally mixed lower on this album as an artistic decision, for what purpose I’m not entirely sure however. If you go on YouTube and search up “Perfume of the Timeless” remixed, a fan has uploaded a version where he boosted her vocals and lo and behold, it sounds dramatically more powerful than the album version, entirely more thrilling and Nightwish-y, but I digress. The other single, “The Day Of…” is less convincing however, and the more I’ve listened to it’s clunky mess of children’s choirs (a musical element Tuomas has overused by this point) and orchestral passages where the band practically disappears, the more I’m convinced this might be the second worst Nightwish single to date. If you’re wondering, “Noise” is easily the first in that ranking… they should do everything in their power to not promote something that dastardly again.

Stepping away from the singles, I actually found that I enjoyed part of “Sway” and much of the orchestral ballad “Lanternlight”, with the former being a close cousin to the twee Rusted Root vibes of “Harvest” on the previous album. I love the first few minute and a half of “Sway” in particular, with it being one of the few examples where I really feel that Troy had to have a lead vocal part, his gentle tone a perfect match for the hushed whisper the vocal melody is delivered in. It all gets a little messy during the middle sequence where they’re talking in grandiose tones about “the big reveal”… can we get back to the ballad please? Well they never do and the song dissolves into orchestral nothingness and four minutes feels like six and this is an opportunity wasted. On “Lanternlight”, I felt we got the closest to the Nightwish of olde, with Tuomas penning a heart on sleeve, lead vocal driven ballad that Floor genuinely shines on as a singer, her best moment on these past two albums. I think it works because it is so simple, the melody is allowed to flow unobstructed by any other elements jutting in unwelcomingly. As for everything else… well, “The Children of ‘Ata” had a solid chorus, an admirable lyrical sentiment that covered an interesting historical tidbit I had remembered reading about before, but that was it for positive takeaways.

I wrote in my review for Human. :||: Nature that Tuomas was “at his best when he allows himself to write in a pop songwriter mode first and foremost, and then colors in the details with metallic elements, with film soundtrack music, and with ancillary elements like the aforementioned tribal drumming or folk music”. All the progressive rock infusions that have swirled into the mix on these last two albums are pulling him away from his strength, and I think that no one is around to tell him as much (he certainly won’t discern this himself… this is what happens others start calling you maestro and you don’t correct them). The first Floor album, Endless Forms Most Beautiful, worked really well because he essentially wrote simple, straightforward symphonic metal songs that were built on hooks and free flowing melodies. I remember remarking that it sounded at times like a throwback to Oceanborn, with a slight power metal tinge to it, and the lyrical theme of that album was the first dip into this pool of humanism and nature. It really worked. The thing that I ultimately came away with while listening to Yesterwynde was that Endless Forms aged really well, its directness very reminiscent of the sharpness of the band that wrote Imaginaerum, and that everything since has been a chore to sit and listen thru. I do think Marco’s missing vocal presence could have gone a long way in addressing that, the idea being that his voice almost demanded something more straightforwardly metal or just to the guts so to speak, and with just Floor and Troy on vocals, there is a lack of bared teeth.

I also wonder if the overwhelming indifference I’ve detected to this albums release is also a reaction to this being the third record in a row mining this particular subject matter. I know I’ve used the Green Day analogy before, that American Idiot was a fresh concept when it came out, but that same concept felt trite and overdone when they went with it again five years later on 21st Century Breakdown. Nightwish has described this as being the third and final album in a trilogy, so the good news here is that this particular vein should be exhausted by their own admission, that we can expect something new. In the process of preparing to write about this album, I listened to the previous albums in this trilogy back to back before listening to this one, and despite the quality gap between those two albums, the thing they share in common with Yesterwynde is that some of these songs are interchangeable from album to album. Something like “Sway” or “Harvest” could’ve been on any of these three albums, same for some of the other tracks, and so it calls into question the need for a trilogy — all are “positive” in tone, which has been the key talking point in the press interviews the band has given this time around. What was so different from album to album here that necessitated three albums worth of music digging into the same of inspiration that wasn’t already said on Endless Forms?

That lingering question is ultimately what Nightwish fans should be worried about. Did he extend this theme for so long because he’s at a loss of what to do otherwise? And now that its over, where does Tuomas go from here as a songwriter for this band? The standard advice he’d likely get from most critics is to return to something more personal and cut from the same cloth the older Nightwish classics were, but is that possible? Those albums were written from starkly personal places that fans love to speculate about (I will refrain here), and he’s older and at a different phase in his life. We’ve also seen less than stellar results when some other artists have attempted such a challenge, with the results being watered down or unconvincing. Its ironic that the older, more personal songs about longing and heartbreak and inner turmoil were more universally loved and adored than these songs addressing more universal, grander themes that should be applicable to all of us. But that’s an adage that has been around in all types of media, that audiences will respond to something they can identify with. Its why people love to talk about their favorite characters in movies, and not so much their favorite thematic material. I don’t have any answers for that question, but I’ll be extremely interested in how Tuomas answers it.

Familiar Forms Most Beautiful: Nightwish’s Human. :II: Nature

George Costanza once famously said of our current season, “Spring. Rejuvenation. Rebirth. Everything’s blooming. All that crap.” Jaded cynicism aside, I think that’s how most of us view spring (well, at least it was before 2020 happened), with a notion of positivity, possibility, and general optimism. I don’t think its a coincidence that Nightwish chose to release their long awaited new album Human. :II: Nature. during these months, even when it might have been the smarter play to delay it to the fall given the state of things and the lack of ability to start touring on it right away. A spring release makes sense for this album because like its predecessor Endless Forms Most Beautiful, also a spring release way back in 2015, the artistic content here is meant to be unveiled during this time, at least for those of us in the northern hemisphere (if you’re reading this in Brazil or Argentina, just bear with me). These two albums are tied to the same season for more than just release dates however. Their collective sound is unmistakably far more bright-skied and sunnier than the Nightwish of old, a trait further reflected in their shared humanism meets environmental lyrical perspective. Nightwish’s distant past was filled with songs about loss and longing, and the dark undercurrent of isolation and depression that swirls around the yearning for childhood innocence. That was likely the Nightwish that most of their legion of fans fell in love with, or grew alongside as the band transitioned out of their very early fantasy steeped themes. The Nightwish of Century Child, Once, and Dark Passion Play then. But it seems the fall and winter of songwriter Tuomas Holopainen’s moods are long past, and with Endless Forms Most Beautiful and now Human. :II: Nature., we’re settling in for what looks to be a lengthy spring turned summer.

The question to determine here is whether this new era of Nightwish is as compelling as the Nightwish of old, given the stark differences in the very essence of the band’s music from then and now. Oh sure, it’s still symphonic metal, and it still sounds like Nightwish for the most part(ish), and of course Holopainen is still as ambitious as ever in regards to the grandeur of his scope. This is a two disc album, its second disc being a thirty-one minute long series of continuously flowing instrumental music (more on this in a bit), while the first disc is the new Nightwish album proper. My first realization after listening through it a couple times was, “Only nine new actual songs on an album coming out five years after the last one? Okay…”. Relatedly, in the gulf of time between Nightwish’s last tour and the release of this album, the phenomenon of YouTube reaction videos temporarily gripped the world in its trendy maw; and Nightwish’s version of “Ghost Love Score” from their Showtime, Storytime live album/Blu-Ray was one of those central songs that everyone simply had to make a reaction video to. Views for the Nightwish video soared into the millions for a song that was merely an old fan favorite, but now was becoming something of an outsider’s phenomenon —- and for the band, an unlikely “hit” despite being over a decade old. Out of this, Floor Jansen became a magnet for “vocal coach reacts” gushing adoration, not only from the reactors themselves but from the comments sections for those videos, and her profile has only risen thanks to her being a judge on the Dutch reality TV show Beste Zangers, even managing a number one single in that country with her take on “The Phantom of the Opera”. Indeed her rise in the public eye both as a member of Nightwish and a star in her own right mirrors Tarja Turunen. But where Nightwish really leaned into Turunen being the face of the band during the Once era until it reached its breaking point, there seems to be a deliberate move towards the opposite end of the spectrum on their part now. Case in point is that she only delivers lead vocals on seven and a half out of the eight vocal-ed up tracks here (she shares split lead vocals with Marco Hietala on the final track “Endlessness”), with the album’s second single “Harvest” being sung entirely by the band’s multi-instrumentalist Troy Donockley. Its a puzzling choice, and I wonder if other fans might not feel that she’s a little underutilized, or more speculatively, does she feel that way?

Jansen’s vocals on the songs she does sing on are firmly locked into that mix of lightly emotive fragility and full throated belting, which works for these songs, but certainly puts to bed any notion that the band would utilize her classical soprano abilities. She’s at her best on “How’s The Heart?”, a uilleann pipes accompanied slice of cheery, mid-tempo pop, a close cousin to Endless Forms’ “Alpenglow” and “My Walden”. Her emotive choices during the chorus make the song and I also enjoy Donockley’s audible harmonizing as well, their voices working well as easy on the ears contrasts. And you don’t need me to tell you that Holopainen is a talented songwriter, and he can pen memorable melodies for days and that’s certainly the case here and elsewhere. The string and piano driven “Procession” is another beautiful example, with Jansen’s hushed vocals rising and falling in a bittersweet crescendo that tugs at the heartstrings. The lyrical framework on those two songs is rather appealing as well, with Holopainen appealing to humanistic ideals of empathy and collectivism in the former and a widescreen, panoramic view of biological history as a living memory on the latter. He’s always been a talented lyricist, his clunkiness in diction and phrasing forgivable in the greater context of his thematic choices and poetic framework. Take the opening track “Music”, which is the most slow burn intro for a Nightwish album ever, featuring a three minute long passage to start with that combines tribal drumming, sounds of wild animals echoing in the distance, before culminating in a choir vocal dramatic crescendo that reaches its apex with a heavenly orchestral swell. The band and Jansen should kick into high gear at that point right? But unexpectedly, Jansen begins on a delicate, calm, almost reserved vocal melody that she gently rolls out and gradually builds into an exultant crying out in the refrain. And in fully committing to the music as a metaphor for humanity’s coexistence with nature, this is as dynamic and adventurous a song as Holopainen has penned in awhile —- a rather bold and daring way to open the album.

Often times though, that progressive songwriting mindset completely overloads some tracks to a point where melodies suffer, and as a result that expected Nightwish emotive tugging of the heartstrings never materializes. The most egregious examples are “Pan” and “Tribal”, the former of which is as aggravating a Nightwish song as I can remember, with its attempts at dynamic quiet-loud tradeoffs doing more to grate on my nerves than anything else. And while “Tribal” has some surprisingly headbanging moments in its middle passages where drummer Kai Hahto and guitarist Emppu Vuorinen crank up the intensity with a tribal drumming + aggro-riff barrage, those rhythmic moments don’t make for a memorable song, particularly when lacking a memorable melodic motif. It’s also striking just how lackluster the first single “Noise” really is in comparison to previous premiere Nightwish singles, with Holopainen’s keyboard melody being the closest thing to a hook in a song built on rhythmic, alliterative vocals during the verses. Here Jansen’s abilities in the chorus seem a little wasted, with nothing in the way of a memorable melody even offered to her —- it all results in a song that sounds a little unfocused, or rather unfinished. I felt the same way about “Shoemaker”, which has so many little interesting micro-moments but nothing that collectively ties it all together, and I’m left wondering how Holopainen’s songwriting style has changed to favor this wild, throw everything in the blender approach as opposed to how he usually writes —- with focus, honing carefully designed melodic structures and discernible song structures. If it wasn’t clear before, it should be clear now that he’s at his best when he allows himself to write in a pop songwriter mode first and foremost, and then colors in the details with metallic elements, with film soundtrack music, and with ancillary elements like the aforementioned tribal drumming or folk music.

I haven’t mentioned bassist/co-lead vocalist Marco Hietala that much here, mostly because he’s hardly given any vocal parts on this album to shine with. His lone solo vehicle is “Endlessness” where he splits time with Jansen, and it’s not a bad song by any means, but it’s long, drawn out tempo makes a potentially epic melody simply tedious. Troy Donockley fairs better in the utterly bizarre but somewhat effective “Harvest”, arguably the most controversial Nightwish single since Anette Olzon’s debut with “Eva” in 2007. Simply taken as it is, in all its jangly poppiness, it’s an effective song with a memorable hook, and a decent melodic thru-line paired with some intriguing instrumentation, but it’s all just a little twee for Nightwish isn’t it? I think more people will wonder why Jansen wasn’t given lead vocals here, and its a good question. You can hear her vocals in the harmonies layered here, and she sounds like she could have handled the job on her own, which is not to suggest that Donockley isn’t a fine singer in his own right. I just think that having him handle lead vocals results in the song coming across as more Rusted Root neo-hippie zeal than anything I’d associate with Nightwish, where we were accustomed to male vocals only in the form of the tortured anguish of Hietala’s inimitable style. And then there’s the second disc, which is actually enjoyable on its own as background music for studying, working or whatever. I’m not going to break it down as its all instrumental (aside from its voiced-over moment reading from Carl Sagan’s Pale Blue Dot), and mostly because it’s all one homogenous whole. And besides, it’s more of a Pip Williams with his magnificent orchestra and choirs than anything Nightwish in nature. I’m sure that Holopainen wrote the backbones of melodies here and there, but Williams has been his longtime classical collaborator, and is here credited with arrangements alongside two other professional classical composers/conductors as well. There are as you’d expect, a lot of musicians who played on the instrumental works here, professionals all of them, and it certainly sounds like it. I don’t really know what else to say about this side of the album because its just so… much, and so strange at the same time. I guess its fine?

When I take a step back and consider the thematic similarity of this album to Endless Forms Most Beautiful, its clear just how much the latter is superior in every way, with it’s Oceanborn invoking blasts of keyboard driven symphonic metal married to (at the time) a new and refreshing concept. The Dawkins meets humanism of that album really worked as a singular concept, it was an album that had some rather convincingly shimmering, optimistic melodies —- but the key word there is singular. It’s kind of incredulous to consider that five years later, Holopainen stretched the concept out to encompass a sequel, albeit one that’s more bogged down by trying too hard with overly proggy song structures. I think Endless Forms worked well because at its heart it was kind of a throwback Nightwish album, coming on the heels of the wildly experimental (and I’d say successful) Imaginaerum. Its song structures —- barring the 24 minute mistake at the end —- were relatively straightforward, pop-drenched symphonic metal; and that style paired well with Holopainen’s sharp right thematic turn from childhood innocence and nostalgia to something entirely different and unexpected. It seemed like a natural place for the band to explore, given Holopainen’s publicly admitted interest in the writings of Dawkins and Sagan, but what he’s done on Human II Nature is essentially repeat himself in the most unfocused, rambling way possible. And frankly, he’s just not as good at mining this particular thematic vein for inspiration as he was at the old introspective, inner turmoil stuff. I can’t hold that against him persay, because everyone changes as they get older and maybe he just has emptied the well of everything he’s had to write about from that source, but what this new album clearly shows is that he needs to consider something else in the future for artistic inspiration. Green Day made a mistake in putting out 21st Century Breakdown, the lukewarm sequel to American Idiot that arrived five years earlier. Sure it had a few good songs, but it lacked the urgency, freshness, and creativity of its predecessor, all while trying to utilize the same thematic concept and lyrical inspiration. It feels like Nightwish made the same mistake, and time will tell if Holopainen is self-aware enough to realize that he’s not quite meant to be a spring/summer guy all the time.

Wintersun’s Time I: A Review Without Puns

I’m not going to get into a history lesson here on the maddeningly long span of time (don’t… just, don’t) and events that marked this album’s journey to this one day, when it has finally met its release date. I will however take a moment to put the release of Time I in perspective, in order to illustrate  just why the near Chinese Democracy-like series of delays and pratfalls surrounding the album’s creation are such a big deal. Wintersun’s only other album, their self-titled debut, was released on September 13th of 2004, and for those of you too young to remember, here’s a short list of stuff that’s worth mentioning: In 2004, there was no YouTube; MySpace was the height of social media; Facebook had not yet been opened to the general public; the first I-Phone was still years away; Twitter had not yet been dreamed of; the term “App” had not yet entered our popular vocabulary; the world had not heard of Barack Obama; George W. Bush was still serving his first term, and Dimebag Darrell (R.I.P.) was still alive and rocking.

 

In summary, 2004 was a long goddamned time ago and those of us who have been waiting the long wait for a follow up to that excellent debut should be forgiven for getting a bit agitated, annoyed, apathetic, and just plain “blah” over the years. Genuine enthusiasm is really hard to keep up for that long a time. It was noticeable that in the days following July4th, when the official release date was announced that fan response was muted overall, and even my own lack of excitement for the album came as a surprise. Maybe it was all just a subconscious lowering of expectations, or maybe it was just being realistic. But as expected you can’t dampen people’s curiosity for long, as the release date got closer and the Nuclear Blast hype generator was switched on, fan excitement and anticipation for this album has launched an upward trajectory in particular through social media. As the accolades from the European press pour in with all manner of praise and hyperbole, I find myself far more interested in the opinions of fellow fans who have had to bite the patience bullet all these years.

 

Time I features the first half of a promised eighty minutes of new Wintersun music painstakingly crafted by vocalist/guitarist Jari Mäenpää. The most noticeable thing that can be said about whats on offer here is that the original Wintersun blend of melodic death metal with a touch of power metal has been turned on its head. Gone are the guitar driven styles of the debut, where riffs and six string virtuosity were the meat and potatoes of the songs — on Time I ornately layered orchestral keyboard arrangements are at the forefront of everything. As a result this new sound Wintersun is very much epic power metal blended with a heavy shot of melo-death. Yes there are still some heavy, punishing guitar riffs (in a crunchier tone than you’ll be expecting), but there’s more clean vocals here than grim screams — more orchestral bombast than wild, out of control guitar solos. You didn’t think he’d spend all this time just to write an exact copy of the first album right? Of course not, and while this may not exactly be night and day from old school Wintersun, it is something that can fairly be called a progression. Some people might not be able to get past this genre bending hurdle and I can understand why they would feel that way.

 

 

Fortunately for the rest of us who enjoy our over the top, ridiculously bombastic power metal, Time I delivers ear candy in loads. There’s only three real songs on this album, two being instrumentals, but the the length of those three ranging from eight to thirteen minutes makes up for the shallow track count. It clocks in at just over forty minutes of music and while that is relatively short for an album I find that I’m not dissatisfied with the length — this is only part one after all. The centerpiece here is “Sons of Winter and Stars”, a suite of four separate song sections of urgent pacing, soaring choruses delivered in Mäenpää’s unique deep timbre, amidst a clash of keyboard orchestras, guiding riffs, and an overload of melodies both Japanese and Scandinavian folk inspired. There’s quiet moments too where string backed atmospheric sections provide a backdrop to eerily sung vocals, the lyrics of which concern… well you could probably take a guess at it: the unrelenting march of time, vastness, longing, and despair. No ones really making a big deal about this being a thematic album, but you get the gist from listening to his very discernible words that there are some unifying themes at work within the lyrics. It all works and matches the sheer epic reach of the music quite well, and honestly what else was he going to sing about anyway?

 

My first impressions upon hearing this album was that I found myself genuinely having fun listening to it. I’ve been able to put this on repeat and catch multiple listens all the way through a few times in a row without tiring of it or feeling like its a chore to listen to — that’s a harder feat to accomplish than it seems. I suppose I’m biased with my power metal love, but this is the kind of stuff that’s right up my street. There’s only so many times one can use the words epic and bombastic to describe this record, but they are apt terms and are the record’s core strengths. Mäenpää doesn’t write the catchiest choruses, or deliver exceptionally heavy music even, but he does craft emotional, melancholic melodies on such an exceptional scale that he is in the top tier of songwriters within modern day metal. If I were to point out a particular highlight of this album, it’d have to be Mäenpää’s incredible clean vocals, they are deeper and more resonant than anything he has recorded for the debut or his work in Ensiferum. When I’m not listening to the album, its usually the passages with those clean vocal melodies than come racing back into my head.

 

This is a great record — or a great first half of a record. Time II is supposed to be coming out in early 2013 and once that’s out we’ll be able to put these two pieces together to see if the second half dampens the energy of the first. My doubts are erased however regarding Mäenpää’s abilities to continue to create musically diverse, engaging, and satisfying slabs of metal. The approach has changed for Wintersun but the results haven’t, and for that alone Mäenpää should be applauded. Does it sound like it was worth all those years of incubation? No it doesn’t. There’s nothing on offer here arrangement wise that hasn’t been matched or bettered by recent albums from Blind Guardian or Nightwish, but then again Wintersun didn’t have their budgets either. Oh well, better late than never they say, and Wintersun releasing one of the most fun-to-listen-to albums of 2012 is a victory worth acknowledging.

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