Death and the Maidens
The Warning’s dark and emotionally charged lyrics set them apart from the pack
It’s been a while since I posted about The Warning. Since the last time I published here, the band released (in stages) their third full-length studio album ERROR, the pandemic let up to a certain extent, and the band has been on the road on their first ever US and world tours, both headlining and in supporting roles. And I finally got to see them play in person. Um. <tiny_voice>Six times.</tiny_voice> What’s that you say? Obsessed? Oh please, “obsessed” is such a harsh word. Let’s say I’m really just repeating the experiment. Need a good number of trials to have some statistical confidence. My confidence is very high now. However, I plan to repeat the experiment whenever possible. I can’t help it. I’m a scientist.
As I mentioned in my last essay here The Warning spent much of the run-up to the release of MAYDAY (the EP that comprised much of the first half of the full ERROR album) faking everyone out. Short video clips of the band in their basement playing excerpts of pop songs from Miley Cyrus to Dua Lipa to Nelly Furtado might have led someone to speculation that the new album would be on the poppier, lighter side. And this would have been no surprise, as they frankly acknowledge the influence of K-Pop and other genres on their music. Clearly they were having a blast producing these little cover clips and adding a bit of rock feel to the tracks.
But then they premiered “CHOKE” with its music video, set on a black stage, with the ladies all dressed in black with severe makeup — the only color in the scene Dany’s blood red lipstick — she begins the song with a softly strummed guitar and an opening line that is … pure suicidal ideation. I won’t say goodbye, in the end it won’t matter at all, I’m sure … I won’t survive the fall.
Oh.
I think the band was sending a message here. And that message is: if you’re going to follow us, know that it’s gonna get dark. And filled with passionate emotions. Buckle up. And that is what “CHOKE” is all about: drowning in these overwhelming feelings. In the video a young woman dressed in flowing white falls into the water, drowns, dies, comes back to life, and at the end glides blissfully though the water. The final image of the video, showing the model posing serenely, arms outstretched and hair floating, gazing at the viewer while beams of light glitter around her — placed in the silent hesitation before the band hit the final note of the song with definitive impact and stalk off the darkened set — is indelible.
In interviews, the band have said that “CHOKE” is not their favorite piece on the album, nor is it, in their opinion, the best. Nevertheless this song wrenches an involuntary “Oh, my God” from nearly everyone on their first listen; studio, video, or live. It’s very challenging. And yet they led off the new phase in their career with this track, in the middle of the pandemic, with this video and its brutal (and ultimately hopeful) symbolism. I think this was entirely deliberate. The themes of drowning and sinking in the water are threads that run all the way through ERROR and set the tone of the whole record.
One of the things that distinguishes The Warning from their contemporaries in rock is the serious darkness in their lyrical content. They are not at all shy about challenging topics, and the usual rock/blues fare of lament for betrayal or loss of love is accompanied in their songs by frank discussion of depression, madness, addiction, alienation, and violence. There’s a lot of anger in their work — anger at people who’ve let them down, anger at society that divides and blinds people, anger at the environmental destruction wrought by the previous generations. And who can blame them? As I said in an earlier essay, we’ve bequeathed their generation a ruined world. And their feelings about all this are clear and well-articulated, even when they’re telling stories about fictional characters in worlds of their creation.
But it’s not nihilism. In interviews concerning “CHOKE,” which carries some of their most disturbing and explicit lyrics, the Villarreal sisters have talked about how they want their music to be a safe space where the overwhelming emotions they’re addressing can be experienced by everyone without fear and danger. They’re delivering this overwhelming, brutal stuff from a place of compassion. And, as Paulina Villarreal has said in interviews, “… we’re normal teenagers!” Yes. They’re normal teenagers. And I am Jaco Pastorius. ;) But I get it. They’re articulating feelings their peers usually don’t, because societal pressures make them bottle it up. The Warning are letting it out, megatons of it. A flood.
That thread of darkness has been there in The Warning’s music almost from the beginning. The title track of their very first EP, “Escape The Mind” (2014), points directly at the inner turmoil that roils the adolescent heart — but does so in a thoughtful way that belies Paulina’s little-girl voice on the song. And of course it’s even more impressive when you think about how she’s writing this stuff, at age 12 or 13, in her second language.
Their first full-length album, XXI Century Blood (2017), relies heavily on familiar teen angst themes (“Shattered Heart,” “Our Mistakes,” the classic “When I’m Alone,” and two of the best breakup songs ever, “Unmendable” and “Survive”) and defiance and rebellion straight from the pages of young adult novels (“Wildfire,” “Exterminated,” “Runaway”). But the title track talks about alienation caused by technology in a world being consumed by climate change. “Copper Bullets” is a gruesome tale of domestic violence that ends in murder and suicide. “Black Holes” addresses the consequences of addiction in a frank and truly heartbreaking way. “River’s Soul,” one of their earliest songs revived for this album, is a beautiful piece about spirituality and rebirth that starts off encouraging you to Drown yourself, in the river … Even the love song “Show Me The Light” has that blackness in it: Hold me please, never leave, I need a daily poisoning …
And then of course, The Warning followed XXI Century Blood with their concept album Queen of the Murder Scene. I’ve written about this record before, so I won’t go into detail here. But the album tells the story of a young woman whom they call The Queen, whose unrequited love turns to obsession, madness, and murder — and that’s where the story gets interesting, as the “good” and “evil” sides of the Queen’s personality wrestle for control of her self. Should she regret her crime, and atone? Or should she embrace the darkness and take revenge on everyone who’s ever wronged her? Spoiler: the dark side wins, the Queen gets her bloody revenge, and goes to her final end without regrets.
Yeah.
And the songs are. All. Bangers. I still maintain that the opening track, “Dust to Dust,” is the most compelling invitation and definitive statement of intent I’ve ever heard from a rock band. If you don’t know this song, you must. It’s. A. Killer. And suffice it to say the whole album is redolent of passion and despair and anger and freshly spilled blood.
In the runup to the release of their third full-length album ERROR, the band talked about how in the past, because of their youth, they got most of their ideas from reading: novels, current events, etc. But for ERROR as they’re becoming adults they’re starting to draw on their own life experiences for their songs, and that this is their most personal album to date. But it doesn’t seem to have changed their songwriting much.
“DISCIPLE,” the opening track is, as its dramatic music video makes apparent, a stark warning against fascism: a “you should have listened to us before” sort of sequel to “XXI Century Blood,” driven by a massive riff and Dany and Pau trading off vocals. “CHOKE” follows hard on “DISCIPLE’s” heels, and the outpouring of emotion continues with the energetic teen angst anthem “ANIMOSITY.” A driving eighth-note bass line pushes the song forward to an anthemic pre-chorus and an irresistible hook, with the chorus featuring one of the best angry lines in rock and roll ever: “It’s not me, it’s you, the one who never got a clue, drown in your guilt; if karma doesn’t hit you, then I will.” As I’ve said before, do not cross these women — you might get a song written about you … !
And as always the thread of darkness runs through the songs on the record. During the breakdown of the lovely “AMOUR,” Dany croons (in French) I’ll love you always, my heart is yours; I hate you, love of my life. I cannot lie: I adore you — and finishes the song with a clearly articulated statement of what is required from her lover: … DIE FOR ME! You see, communication is essential for a healthy relationship. Also, commitment. Deep. Commitment.
“ERROR” returns us to current events with a (ahem) warning about the dangers of artificial intelligence: You’re my maker but you’re not my master … “Z” is a foot-stomping sequel to “XXI Century Blood,” talkin’ ‘bout their generation and the world they didn’t create but now have to face — as does “KOOL-AID KIDS,” an ominous piece about conformity and the cruelty it engenders. “EVOLVE” asks the provocative question, is it always best to change? — and features Pau issuing the best scream in rock and roll since Daltrey’s in “Won’t Get Fooled Again” — and maybe better — because Roger was double-tracked. In “REVENANT,” with the backdrop of a crackling campfire, Pau sings sweet a lullaby to a doomed cowboy who has come to the end of his rope. You can’t erase what has been done. You can forgive, you can move on; but we cannot escape the tide of our cruel mistress, keeping time. Our cruel mistress keeping time, indeed.
ERROR returns to the water for the end with the sarcastic stadium-rock anthem “MARTIRIO” where TW ironically encourages you (in Spanish) to drown in your martyrdom — surrender to your destiny, and the heartbreaking “Breathe” — just Pau on the clangy upright piano in the family house, opening that firehose of emotions from “CHOKE” without the whole band and hard rock production. The water’s getting way too deep … Very deep.
Everywhere The Warning has gone, particularly when they’ve played festivals, or backed more well-known acts like Halestorm, Three Days Grace, Guns ’N’ Roses, and the almighty Muse — they’ve made new fans. Their expressions of surprise and newfound devotion crowd social media the day after the show. The Warning’s headlining shows, in smaller venues, frequently sell out and are always packed with the faithful. In far-off places like Berlin and Madrid, the full houses sang along — in English, by the way — to their favorite songs, and the band responded with enthusiastic, energetic performances — actually that’s not fair, the band always seems to give 100%, even when the house is quiet or half empty (I’m looking at you, San Luis Obispo, for shame — and that was a phenomenal show for a tiny crowd). And on the Internet, the band has attracted the community of YouTube music reactors (a new thing, to me, have to confess). It’s often amusing to watch a reactor’s face change when it hits them — they get very still, eyebrows go up, jaws drop, they say either “Oh my God” or “Holy shit” and suddenly they want to know everything about this band.
I am frequently reminded of a famous 1975 appearance by Black Sabbath on the “Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert” television show. An obviously baffled Kirshner performed the introduction, explaining that their production staff occasionally ask their audience who the want to see on the show, and that “One of the most frequently names mentioned is Black Sabbath …” I mean the fans at the time could have asked for Fleetwood Mac or the Eagles, but they wanted Black Sabbath. What’s the appeal? In a long-ago interview, Ozzy Osbourne talked about the formation of Black Sabbath, and the development of their style, as an explicit reaction to the “Summer of Love” movement of California in 1967. Osbourne pointed out that the optimism and positive feelings expressed by the artists and hippies participating in the Summer of Love were baffling to him and his bandmates, because their environment and future in the decaying industrial English Midlands seemed bleak. They wanted to express feelings that were downright ominous and scary. So they stepped away from the blues and psychedelia and created a new style, in which they used crisply distorted guitars and thundering bass and drums in minor keys, with lyrical content addressing issues from war to mental illness to violence and hopelessness … oh wait, are we talking about Black Sabbath or are we talking about The Warning right now?
We are talking about The Warning right now.
Hail to the Princesses of Darkness.
Edit, 21 October: They faked us out again. “MORE’s” colorful pop-infused stomp made us all think that maybe this was the time for The Warning to shift over to the light side. NOPE. Tonight in Guadalajara, to a sold out crowd, they premiered two new songs, entitled “Sick” and “Hell You Call A Dream” — and I gotta say, in addition to the obviously dark song titles, there’s definitely some Sabbath in their thundering riffs. Can’t wait to hear … ah … more.
Coda: The song “The Warning,” covered by Black Sabbath on their eponymous first album, was written and first recorded by the Aynsley Dunbar Retaliation — Aynsley Dunbar was and is one of the most iconic rock drummers in history, having played with groups ranging from John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers to David Bowie and Frank Zappa’s backing bands to Jefferson Starship — and was a founding member of Journey (!!!). His resume is jawdropping. Is this all just a big coincidence? Some day I’ll ask the band.
