Review: Warning ‘Rituals Of Shame’

Don’t ya just hate it when some thirty-year-old in a battle jacket says their first Metallica album was Kill ‘Em All?  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done my fair share of posturing and bending of the truth when it comes to when and where I got on any particular band’s bus, but I’ve grown up (a bit) since, so can now admit that whilst Watching From A Distance has a very special place in my affections, I didn’t really come to appreciate it fully until after I’d hopelessly fallen under the charms of the debut 40 Watt Sun album. Since then, it’s fair to say that choosing between Watching From A Distance and The Inside Room would be a thankless task – which all simply supports my saying that the release of a brand-new Warning album is simultaneously a source of excitement and nervousness.

It’s been fifteen years since The Inside Room was released, and twenty since Watching From A Distance arrived. Whilst further 40 Watt Sun albums and live Warning releases have been welcome, they always felt like an occasional alternative to those two cornerstones, whereas new material from Patrick Walker under the Warning moniker definitely feels like a risk (however small) of disrupting such a strong legacy. I’m sure others won’t have felt that way, but I was initially uneasy about reviewing Rituals Of Shame – what would I write if the whole affair was just an inoffensively okay affair, or even worse, what if it was just plain bad?!

Well thankfully I needn’t have worried, and quite frankly I should have had more trust in the judgment of Sir Walker of Essex. Rituals Of Shame is a worthy entry into his canon, and if you are familiar with the two previously mentioned classics, then you’ll be interested (and probably very pleased) to hear where it sits in relation to them.

Sound and production-wise, it sits right between Watching From A Distance and The Inside Room. The former I always mentally picture as being performed in a huge cathedral, whereas the latter is far more immediate. This album has a great balance of huge reverb-laden distorted guitars with prominent and crystal-clear vocals. And the vocals are a key point of difference and development here – in the band’s earlier days, they were strained and pained. It fit the music perfectly, but it was a performance as opposed to anyone being able to say he was a great singer. Well, I think that view could be very easily challenged now, as his voice has matured brilliantly; where previously he strained, now he croons.

Much like the production coming down between those two previous platters, the songs and performances similarly take from both iterations. Night Comes Down would probably fit best on Watching…, with Landing Lights being most reminiscent of the sparser presentation of 40 Watt Sun.

a great balance of huge reverb-laden distorted guitars with prominent and crystal-clear vocals…

I went back to some old interviews whilst listening to this album, in an attempt to remind myself of the answer to the obvious question, ‘why did Patrick pack in Warning in the first place?’. Perhaps predictably for someone who is so clearly the sort of artist who wears his heart on his sleeve, he wanted to move away from the moniker to free himself up stylistically. Personally, I’d argue he had enough goodwill to have released The Inside Room as a Warning album (but what do I know?). However, at this point, twenty years later, there is little doubt that old and new fans will welcome the progression with open arms.

One area in which they have arguably stayed the same is the lyrics. Some might argue that they know exactly what Walker is describing, but for me, his writing has always been quite abstract – allowing the listener to interpret the music and the performance themselves, subject to the fact that he’s pouring out his tortured soul, obviously. But it’s on that last point that I feel this album is different.

Along with his matured vocal performance comes a change in how I’ve received the songs. He’s aged… so have I… and with age arguably comes some perspective and, dare I say, wisdom, and with this comes an element of acceptance and even hope in the songs. This is particularly true of the closing track, Teacher, which as of now is maybe my favourite Warning song.

So, it turns out that my cautious approach was totally unwarranted – it’s a thoroughly rewarding listen and I should always trust in my musical heroes. Not too sure I’ll be able to convince Kill ‘Em All battle-jacket-boy though; after all, I bought Lulu.

Label: Relapse Records
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Scribed by: David J McLaren