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Wumpscut
Cannibal Anthem

Metropolis Records

Posted: Wednesday, May 03, 2006
By: Vlad McNeally

I must admit, I am something of a :Wumpscut: fanatic. Ever since the initial release on CD, I have followed his career album-to-album, single-to-single. As of late though, his last two albums felt light, like a waning candle. The last release, Evoke diverged from their usual caustic style and attempted clean production and contained peculiar neo-medieval moments with guest vocals that struck me as being slightly atonal and cawing. Still, a good half of it I did enjoy, but I was left wondering whether the passion had begun to fizzle. Thus, I was blind-sided by Cannibal Anthem; not only is it a return to their grim roots, but it is definitely their best and most consistent album in years.

Stylistically, the album is split down its center, with the first half generally catering directly to mastermind Rudy Ratzinger’s pent-up bile, and the second highlighting his ability to conjure macabre and atmospheric industrial. As a whole, it feels like a split-disc, with an “A-side” and a “B-side,” which would be troubling if one or the other outweighed its partner. Luckily, that’s not the case. After the atmospheric clanking cells and demonic growl that is the intro, “Herzlich Wilkommen,” the :Wumpscut: gates part to reveal “Wir Warten.” Within, Ratzinger returns to the caustic shredded rhythms of old, his grumbling lyrics rapid, with verses punctuated by bestial cries. While this war machine charges ahead with full force, its bass arteries fluttering like a strobe with anger towards its end, it still finds time to catch its breath, dropping quiet while a birdlike synth warbles in the murk. The featured single, “Jesus Antichristus” is a second delectable moment of brutality. The pacing of this piece is a swirling dirge, founded upon a wet arpeggio mumble, with its harsh snares punctuating the conclusion of its rotation. With a bounding cadence akin to Das Ich, Ratzinger’s tormented snarls about the struggle between darkness and light are emphasized by dismal string-like currents and high metallic clangs. “Die Liebe” is unusually bracketed by these acerbic tracks, adding a gentle snowstorm of frozen tranquility. With its foundation constructed upon a tingling sequence of arpeggios, Ratzinger’s gruff voice expresses a human heart within the beast, its eerie mood amplified by the sighs of haunted choirs.

The line itself begins to blur with “Cannibal Anthem,” an unusual entry into Ratzinger’s extensive catalog. Featuring a refrain of prog-rock guitar weaving towards a reoccurring whine, it brings an unusual echo of dismal country to the muffled trudge of bass and scared soprano blips. Not only bringing a guitarist into his staple, mastermind Rudy also has enlisted the talents of guest vocalist, Onca. The guest vocals in this round appear in the form of exquisite lilting operatics, first fusing with the muffled static wall of “Pass Auf” to perfectly merge medieval with a vibrating wall of rhythm. This chanteuse reappears in visitation to wail with a siren’s dismay in “Hunger,” her voice complemented by melancholy bells, cello sighs, and tender piano while metered by a simple electronic heartbeat. Lastly, the grim “Jetzt” deserves mention for placing the sinister toll of a cathedral’s bell to Ratzinger’s gravelly mumble and his tense synths.

While it doesn’t quite rise and come to be on par with :Wumpscut: classics like Bunkertor 7 and Embryodead, its quality gap is minute. Even now, I’m not sure if I prefer its scathing moments or the romp through the graveyard that is its second half. Not only does this chapter feature some classic dance floor daisy-cutters, but it summons back the cinematic side that I have sorely missed.