Partisan Records // Courtesy
Cameron Winter's "Heavy Metal" is an unqualified masterpiece.
Occasionally, an album comes along that feels like an instant musical watershed moment. These records go beyond the traditional, and often overstated, classification of an album as an instant classic, and feel not like the apotheosis of existing trends but instead like the discovery of a new frontier. Cameron Winter’s “Heavy Metal” — which is not, in fact, a metal album at all — is one such release.
Winter, the frontman of New York post-punk phenom Geese, released “Heavy Metal” in December 2024. It didn’t receive much immediate attention, but a placement on Paste’s list of the best debut albums of 2024, followed by a Pitchfork Best New Music notice, brought it to the attention of critics and musically engaged audiences.
Like all truly great works of art, “Heavy Metal” is extraordinarily difficult to write about. It feels as revelatory as “Unknown Pleasures,” “Highway 61 Revisited,” “Different Class” or “Ys” — there’s no easy way to write about something that so defiantly sets itself apart. There are shades of Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Joanna Newsom, David Byrne and David Berman on the 10 songs that make up “Heavy Metal,” but any direct comparisons minimize the enormity of Winter’s work.
The two most definitive elements of these songs are Winter’s voice and his lo-fi, unpolished production. Winter’s voice is tremulous at times, histrionic at others, but he always sounds like he’s baring his soul. At the end of the single “$0,” Winter breathlessly declaims — almost moans — that “God is real, God is real, I’m not kidding God is actually real,” and he delivers it earnestly enough that you almost believe he’s solved the mystery of faith.
The music that underscores this religious declaration is fascinating. It’s undeniably beautiful, gorgeously composed and arranged, but recorded and produced so roughly that the entire album constantly sounds like it’s on the verge of falling to pieces in much the same way as its emotion-stricken creator. Even on catchy, upbeat tunes like “Love Takes Miles” and “Nausicaä (Love Will Be Revealed),” it seems as though Winter is devoting Herculean effort to prevent the song from lapsing into atonal discord.
The secret ingredient that keeps it all together is Winter’s piano playing. His musicianship is exemplary, and his beautiful melodies provide a solid musical bedrock onto which he can overlay experimental flourishes and anguished wails aplenty. Fans of Geordie Greep and Black Country, New Road’s recent work should find something to admire here.