Wintersun - The Forest Seasons (2LP) - Clear w/ Green Splatter Vinyl

Wintersun’s The Forest Seasons arrived in July 2017 on Nuclear Blast, and it still feels like a bold left turn from a band that could easily have chased bigger, shinier symphonics after Time I. Instead, Jari Mäenpää and co leaned into something earthier and more patient. Four long pieces, each taking a season as its canvas, make up the album. It’s a simple idea, but the execution is meticulous and moody. You can hear the hours Jari spent sculpting layers in his Helsinki workspace, yet there’s more bark and bite in the guitars, more room for the band to breathe. It plays like a hike that starts with promise, stumbles into the shadows, and finishes under star-bright cold.

Awaken from the Dark Slumber (Spring) sets the tone with a two-part build that feels true to the season. The opening swell doesn’t rush. Riffs unfurl, synths cast a shimmer over the treeline, and Jari’s harsh vocals cut through like a late frost. When the tempo lifts, Kai Hahto’s drumming locks in with that classic Wintersun swing, quick but not cluttered, precise without squeezing the life out of the groove. Teemu Mäntysaari’s leads sing above the storm, bright threads that stitch melody to muscle. It’s the band reasserting itself after years of studio talk and delays, reminding you they’re not just a workstation and a wishlist.

The Forest That Weeps (Summer) is the most anthemic cut, a banner-waving track with stacked choirs and a chorus that lands with festival-sized lift. This is where you hear the old power metal heart beating under the melodeath armour. The choral layers are thick but not syrupy, and there’s a folky lilt tucked into the guitar phrasing that gives it warmth. It’s no surprise this became a fan favourite at shows. Even on record you can picture fists in the air and that shared howl when the refrain hits. If you’re crate-digging for Wintersun vinyl, this is the song you’ll test your stylus with, just to feel the room swell.

Eternal Darkness (Autumn) is the plunge. The tone turns blacker, the tremolo guitars shred the canopy, and the vocals scrape at the edges. The composition moves in episodes that mirror the season’s slow rot. It’s furious, but the rage feels earned, not pasted on. Jukka Koskinen’s bass doesn’t always get a spotlight in this band, yet the low-end weight here keeps the track from floating away on the synth mist. Some critics at the time flagged the production as a touch dry compared with Time I’s glassy sheen, but on a track like this the dryness works. The claws show. The wind’s in your face.

Loneliness (Winter) closes the record with patience and space. The tempo eases off, the keyboard tones get glacial, and Jari’s clean singing steps out from behind the blizzard. It’s melancholic without melodrama. You can hear the cold in the reverb tails, the way the chords hang like fog. This is where the concept pays off. You’ve trudged through months, and now it’s quiet, but not empty. There’s resolve in that last stretch.

Long-time listeners will know the backstory. The Forest Seasons was paired with a fundraising push that Wintersun called the Forest Package, a move designed to help build their own studio and push future projects forward. Rather than feeling like a stopgap, the album stands on its own. It doesn’t try to out-Time the Time saga. It strips back the orchestra-first approach and lets the riffs, the drumming, and the seasonal frame drive the experience. If you came to Wintersun for hyper-layered fireworks, you still get the lavish arrangements, but they sit behind the band rather than in front of it.

On vinyl, the record makes even more sense. The two-songs-per-side flow suits a night in, needle down, phone away. The Forest Seasons vinyl pressings have become a bit of a talking point among collectors because the dynamic shifts breathe nicely with a decent setup. If you stumble on a copy at a Melbourne record store, don’t overthink it. Grab it, go home, and let Autumn bruise the walls. And if you’re out of luck locally, you can always buy Wintersun records online; plenty of shops that specialise in vinyl records Australia still rotate stock of Wintersun albums on vinyl when they can get them.

Seventeen years into their story, this line-up sounded locked in. Jari’s multi-instrumental command, Teemu’s melodic sense, Jukka’s grounding bass, and Kai’s tasteful speed all serve the same picture. The record isn’t about chasing perfection. It’s about mood, season, and place. Not every idea hits with the same force, and some listeners will still prefer the gleam of Time I, but The Forest Seasons has a spine and a path. It’s a walk worth taking, especially on wax.