Album Review: Manic by Wage War

Fans waited over two years for this fourth venture from Ocala, FL metal band Wage War, and amid the chaos of the COVID-19 pandemic, it emerged into a world very different from that of their first three albums.  As one might expect, this is reflected in the album itself, which takes a decidedly darker tone than their previous outings. Of course, singer Briton Bond and company are no strangers to discussing dark themes or negative emotions.  Their lyrics have already touched on topics such as suicide (“Youngblood”), loss (“Johnny Cash”), and depression (“Low”); however, this album heads in a distinctly pessimistic direction compared to previous efforts. This does not mean that this is not a good record; indeed, much of the greatest art explores themes of darkness and suffering, and this album has its own rewards to reap.

On previous albums, Wage War had their aforementioned dark moments, but most of these focused on rising out of suffering. Here, hardship is the point, which feels familiar after a year and a half of a pandemic. The band treads a path between the aggression of metal and screamed vocals and a poppier production, creating a musical counterbalance comparable to their prior album, “Pressure.” This album, they lean even further onto electronic elements and clean vocals. The guitar-driven breakdowns are still there, as are the screams, but they are more reserved in execution, a spice rather than a main dish.  Whether this will be to a listener’s liking is in the ear of the beholder, but it mirrors a trend witnessed in other metalcore artists over the past few years. Specifically, this is also seen in Architect’s February release “For Those That Wish to Exist,” which similarly dials back the dissonance—but not the emotion—in favor of a more polished sound.  If one likes this trend, one will like the sound of this record.  While this is arguably an interesting area of sonic exploration, Wage War and their contemporaries may have gone too far with autotuning the vocals. Despite this sole major complaint, the album is enjoyable.

“Manic” introduces itself quickly in the first track, “Relapse,” about drug addiction, before leaping into the sarcastically-intoned “Teeth.” This is followed by the title track, which expresses the theme of mental illness, which is common within and thus familiar to the metalcore subgenre and its listeners.  After three tracks in the more modern pop-influenced style, we get to the most aggressive track on the album, “High Horse.” Released as the first single months before release, this cut is closer to their traditional metalcore style, with exclusively screamed vocals and pounding guitars, and is sure to please listeners who prefer that sound.

Subsequently, we have the more introspective “Circle the Drain.” This is likely the most positive song on the album, expressing a potential to start over and repair, but even this is phrased as a question, “can we start over, or circle the drain?” rather than a statement.  

“Godspeed” discusses revenge in a way reminiscent of their prior albums, which focused on the overcoming of hardship, and offers a return to form.  “Death Roll” and “Slow Burn” continue the topic of destruction, the former from an aggressive external angle, while the latter is about destruction of the self and pain.  

Next, “Never Said Goodbye” retreads loss, a topic they are no strangers to from previous album tracks like “Youngblood” and “Johnny Cash,” while “True Colors” returns to internal conflict.  

The album concludes with the bombastic “If Tomorrow Never Comes,” about facing the end of the world with a loved one.  A far less hopeful ending than any of their other three albums, one cannot help but find it relevant in the context of the current climate crisis and pandemic. With a much bleaker track listing, this album is Wage War for today, and will entertain today and tomorrow (unless, as the closing track’s chorus suggests, “tomorrow never comes,” then it’s enough).

Overall review: 8/10


“Manic” was released October 1, 2021 on Fearless Records.