Review Summary: Good things come to those who wait.
Modern society is a funny and fickle thing. It's a little funny how Jari, the architect/maestro behind the genius of Wintersun, was ridiculed all over the cyberspace simply for asking for donations. It's not like he was buying a goddamn Ferrari. He wanted to actualize his
vision. The kind of rugged individualism espoused by philosophers like Jordan Peterson and Kanye West has caused us to forget simple facts of history. The phrase "it takes a village" has been replaced with Gecko's "greed is good," or at worst, "screw you, I got mine." Yet when we look at the facts of history, it's a little funny how guys like Da Vinci, Michael Angelo, and other artists were only able to create their classic works through what was essentially an archaic form of what we now call crowdfunding or Patreon.
When the album era was at its peak, artists were given heaps of cash in order to see their vision to its very end. Rugged individualism and the solipsistic nature of modern society has led us to believe guys like The Beatles and Michael Jackson simply pulled their masterpieces out of their butt. Art does not exist in a vacuum, and unfortunately modern society has switched from blow to suck. We suck dry the artist, laugh at him for even trying, and go back to popping percs and watching Tiktok. We are so removed from the album era that the short memories and prevailing narcissistic tendencies in our modern society have led us astray from the reality. At risk of being censured or cancelled by my peers and colleagues, I would have to surmise that Ulrich was as right as Galileo when he condemned the act of "free downloading," and the backlash was much the same. Yet instead of the Roman Catholic Church and its arms of oppression, the artist in modern society is up against the unwashed masses who are only looking for handouts. Music is now just a backdrop to jogging and boning, and if that statistics are to be trusted, modern society's youth isn't doing much of either. Jari of Wintersun realized that music would soon be mere space filler in the innumerable Netflix series involving megalomaniacal tiger trainers, or at best, the nostalgic backdrop to a hokey supernatural cornfest. It's a little funny how Jari of Wintersun was practically crucified for trying to fund his art to the best of his abilities.
After all, it's a little funny how the album's available for goddamn free anyway. You don't have to spend a dime, which is what you parasites always wanted, isn't it? But you laughed at that man for even asking us for a penny. I'd give you a quarter to buy a clue, but I'm afraid you'd just ask me for more quarters. Still, since I'm feeling generous, here's one clue: Wintersun is
not The Rolling Stones. Whatever money you spent on a bootleg t-shirt of their debut likely didn't end up in the pocket of Jari. And with the interests of the World Economic Forum decimating Scandinavia or wherever Wintersun is from, we should really be sending our favorite metal bands donations like it's Haiti after an earthquake or hurricane or something. But modern society echoes Cobain and Rollins with cries of "here we are now, entertain us" and "gimme, gimme, gimme." I say give me Wintersun.
