W.F.R.
Areas

[it's not about being a know-it-all, but I naturally write in the third person for this de-review, THIS IS SIMPLY MY CREATURE, MADE ON THE COMPUTER. THAT'S IT, MY ALBUM …]

I would say that this subtype of composition (more than an album, it is a composition) is very structurally similar to a work by Mozart in a 2007 version. I would like to add that it is a very difficult album to understand.

It seems almost like a blend between Faith No More, Cardigans, Cannibal Corpse, Carcass, Napalm Death. We must immediately say that W.F.R. is first and foremost a brutal death band (and after the other adjectives…), but which for musical passions, has decided to incorporate other styles. These can range from black metal (mayhem and burzum above all), to electronic (aphex twin, sneaker pimps), and then move on to a genre decidedly more distant … folk (with a clear origin; compositionally; Crash Test Dummies or another type like Spiritual Front …). A scenario dedicated to the paintings of Theodor Kittelsen, moving to those of Tank Girl and Camille Rose Garcia. I would like to start completing my analysis (because it doesn't seem like a review, as a way of writing), by writing my opinions regarding this composition, moving from one area to another.

Area 1:

We begin immediately with the sonic devastation of the opening track (People Want Hate). The track in question opens with a black riff in the Mayhem style of "De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas", which often evolves (if you can hear the guitar, covered by the drum machine, speedcore) into grindcore. The rhythmic base is obviously entrusted to my computer, which through this gabber section, would refer to a more furious and even more brutal (yet at the same time more technical) version of Atari Teenage Riot. As if Alec Empire were manically abused by big brother Trent Reznor. The other tracks are nothing less than a blend between Cannibal Corpse, Discharge, and Korn. They do not live up to the first one (not that they are not valid and less brutal like the first …), which I find to be a punch in the stomach.

Area 2:

This is the area where I put the most sacrifice and effort. It's a part of the CD that in some ways is more brutal than the first, as in others it's more delicate. Indeed, due to my alternative whims, I could not categorize this part as a single genre but rather many others. Let's take, for example, the first two opening songs: they are nothing less than remixes of songs from the Akira soundtrack. Definitely calmer and more serene compared to the previous ones in area 1. While the other two, the third and fourth, are nothing less than speedcore tracks, both reaching 2,000 bpm. Extreme yes, but never like the last track. It opens with snare minimalist beats on a low-fi recording. Then it moves to a rather chaotic extratone (to say the least, 5,000 bpm), and do you know the whistles of Ventolin (by AFX), well … longer and noisier and often change and merge, leaving room for blast-beats (which compared to those whistles seem like classical music). The last track is excellent.

Area 3:

The opening song (Big Industrial World) is very relaxing and melancholic, which then flows into a very gloomy solo, reminiscent of Hundred Years by the Cure. Sad and suffering. But at the same time relaxing and makes you think and travel with your mind. Tending to the pastel blue of the sea. That becomes gray and black, like our dirty and contaminated skies. Just this is enough to define the song. While the second track (Orange), is very long but serene and sweet, simply tender and vulnerable, with that peaceful little riff, pushed to the orange and blood-red color of the sunset, which gives us peace, that atmosphere … genuine. Distant from the first two areas where it was unhealthy and toxic. Hate seems like a little accompanying song, but in reality, it is a composition for electric bass that I invented, to play over (I invite all de-baser users to use it and steal it, and play a piece over it; if you can keep up; because that is its purpose).

This is the result of those days where there was no light, and where happiness was a utopia for me. When you thought you found a friend and instead it's a backstabber. Because friends are like the wind, they come and go it's not worth having any …