On Heavy Metal, Cameron Winter reveals his deepest existential fears to prove that he is one of the most versatile talents of the modern era.
Cameron Winter is a New York City musician best known for his role as the lead singer and keyboardist of the rock band Geese. The band formed in 2016, when all of its members were attending high school together in Brooklyn. Since then, they garnered the attention of Partisan Records and have released several albums. In their discography, Geese combines the influences of Led Zeppelin and classic art rock with modern post-punk. In 2023, the band released 3D Country, their most critically and commercially successful album to date. While Geese continues to find major success on the world stage, Cameron Winter took the time to release his solo debut, Heavy Metal, on Dec. 6, 2024. Winter’s new project is a complete departure from the hallmarks of Geese; diverging from the band’s maximalist and exultant sound, Heavy Metal is a quiet and moody reflection that is equal parts calming and melancholic. Winter achieves a total stylistic shift and sets himself apart from other contemporary musicians with a project that feels completely from the heart.
Heavy Metal is an album that does not pretend to be grand or flamboyant. Instead, it is a triumph of minimalism. Listening to any track from this album makes you feel like you are in the room with Winter as he sits by his piano and belts out cryptic yet beautiful metaphors. Every song begins with a simple piano or guitar riff, followed by a slow layering in of other instruments. On “Cancer of the Skull,” for example, we begin with the soft strumming of Winter’s guitar before some brass and tambourine sneak into the track. This is succeeded by the singer’s warbling voice sliding in. Then arrives the twinkling piano, additional percussion, and even a choir of woodwinds. By the time we reach the chorus, Winter’s double-tracked singing is supported by a symphony of instruments. While the track remains relatively quiet, the intensity can be felt as all the parts work in harmony to create a deeply sorrowful and enveloping soundscape. In many ways, this album is reminiscent of Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks: all of the songs feel like free jazz builds, using a single guitar riff or piano motif to anchor an orchestra of instruments. Winter’s vocals channel this as well, emanating both euphoria and harrowing despair. Every note reverberates with vibrato in a guttural yet gentle manner. On several songs, he employs his trademark “lip whuffling,” which is his style of passionate, trilled vocalizations. Winter made a conscious choice to not include any of the members of Geese on the album, not out of any ill feelings but because he wanted to isolate the sound of this project from any of his previous works. In this way and many others, Heavy Metal is an exercise in creating beauty from simplicity.
Winter explores themes of music and existentialism through his deeply personal lyrics. In the opener, “The Rolling Stones,” Winter evokes figures such as Brian Jones, singing “Like Brian Jones, I was born to swim,” referring to Jones’ death from drowning in his pool. By referencing this tragedy, Winter is fatalistically implying his need to create music. In the verses, he sings about how he is breaking himself through his endless need to create and how it is driving him insane. Like Brian Jones, he is drawn to the thing that is also the means of his own destruction. Winter has spoken about the endless hours he has spent tracking over himself and adding more instruments, which only serves to prove that this album is just another way in which Winter is pained by his creative itch.
On “Cancer of the Skull,” Winter declares that he is a “heavy metal man,” and his “cancer” is that he cannot let go of his dream to make art. He is also resigned to forever be a product of his addiction, singing, “Today/ I met who I’m gonna be/ From now on/ And he’s a piece of shit” on “Drinking Age.” Winter’s existentialism reaches its peak on the song “$0,” where he belts out a repetitive cry that “God is real.” While this may be interpreted as a religious epiphany, Winter has stated that he is agnostic and has conflicting feelings about that part of the song. The true meaning, however, may be hinted at on the final song of the album. On “Can’t Keep Anything,” Winter explains “I don’t know where I’m going/ Baby, where I’m going/ I can’t keep anything.” Winter’s existentialism has led to a realization about the uncertainty of death and an afterlife. The track’s final refrain of “I can’t give everything away,” calls back to the same refrain on the closing track of David Bowie’s Black Star, his final release before he died. Winter’s cries that “God is real” may be his way of reaching out to find comfort in an answer, even if he doesn’t believe it himself. Through his metaphorical and honest lyricism, Winter tackles deeply troubling questions and ideas.
Whether it is making music about cowboys with Geese, or delving into the depths of his anxieties alone, Cameron Winter is a true artist.
Favorite Tracks: Cancer of the Skull, Drinking Age, The Rolling Stones
Rating: INDY
Elliot Anderson is a first-year in the College majoring in Biology and minoring in lip whuffling.