Wolfmare
Whitmare Rhymes

Born from the ashes of Wolfsangel, the St. Petersburg formation offers, practically, the already prepared soup of the defunct band, that blend of folk-viking-epic at 360 degrees so dear to viking metallers.

So, where's the novelty? Well, first of all, the lineup includes eight (8!!!!) members (MEMBERS!!!!), four (..... 4!!!!) engaged in vocals and the rest are intent on playing traditional rock instruments (guitars, drums, and bass) plus others less traditional (flutes, bagpipes, mandolin, percussion, violin, and cello).

Now, as happens in these cases, the dish served can take two distinct and separate paths: the first leading to chaos, noise, disgust, and crap. The second, instead, is that of a well-made minestrone, with ingredients measured, well blended, produced in an exquisite manner. And it is precisely this second path that the band has taken (lucky them!). The distorted guitars (alternating between thrash and heavy riffs) know their business with riffs that are really rocky and heavy, and they're stopped in the breaks by more folk-inspired ones accompanied by the singer's less screaming voice or, in more fascinating and enchanting cases (my favorites), the voice of the female singer, who with her falsetto, adds that extra gear that would have made an album like "Whitmare Rhymes" just one among many. And while songs like "The Ballad Of Jolly Hangman" may sound familiar, it's the gems "The Hall Of Mirrors", "Shine," and the long final suite (where basically everything happens) "Web Of War" that make us reconsider and move our metal behinds off the seat. "Web Of War", despite its over 13 minutes of music (sorry... 13!!!!!!), is not boring at all, it engages the listener, it surprises. Because it is not the classic hammering song with helicopter double bass drum (yes, there is that too!) but, in the most aggressive and dynamic moments, where the singer seems to give his best (or worst, you judge. He sounds like a demon chained in the depths of hell thirsty for blood), right in those moments comes the unexpected: the bagpipes, violins, keyboards... it feels like going suddenly from the storm of the underworld to the serene heavenly, all gently accompanied by our friend the singer. And, not only that, even the guys don't always sound mad like demons, helping us understand that growl-clean duets, even if predictable, may not go out of fashion so easily if the music is well written, played, and produced.

And this is the case with Wolfmare.

A chance is deserved.