Oh, NOOOO! 😱 Voivod, those lovable weirdos from Canada, are BACK! And this time, they’re not just assaulting your eardrums with their delightfully dissonant noise; they’re assaulting your WALLET! 💸 Yes, folks, Voivod is unleashing their very own VIDEO GAME upon the unsuspecting masses. Prepare for “Voivod: The Nuclear Warrior,” a pixelated nightmare fueled by prog-thrash madness and, let’s be honest, probably a whole lot of questionable design choices. 🤪
So, what is this… *thing*? Apparently, it’s a “Metroidvania” (whatever THAT is), meaning you run around shooting stuff in a 2D world that looks like it was drawn by a caffeinated hamster. But fear not, true believers! This isn’t just ANY pixelated wasteland; it’s a VOIVOD pixelated wasteland! Expect landscapes ripped straight from their album covers, bosses that look like they were designed by H.R. Giger after a bad trip, and a soundtrack that will make your ears bleed in the most avant-garde way possible. 🤘
The story? Oh, it’s a doozy. You play as the Voivod (duh!), a headless warrior guided by his disembodied mind, Nothingface (because subtlety is for posers). Your quest? To find the scattered fragments of your consciousness, because apparently being a headless mutant isn’t enough of a challenge. 🧠
And because Voivod is all about that “authentic experience,” the band members are “deeply involved” in the game’s development. Drummer Away is doing the “visual design,” which probably means he’s doodling weird shapes on napkins. Chewy is “overseeing” the soundtrack, which hopefully means he’s not just shredding over MIDI files. Snake is doing the voice acting, so get ready for some guttural growls and cryptic pronouncements. And Rocky? Well, Rocky is “playtesting,” which basically means he’s getting paid to play video games. Lucky bastard. 🎮
But here’s the real kicker: They need YOUR money! 💰 That’s right, “Voivod: The Nuclear Warrior” is on Kickstarter, begging for your hard-earned cash. They promise “exclusive rewards,” like limited collector’s editions and the chance to become part of the game itself. So, if you’ve always dreamed of being a pixelated NPC in a Voivod-themed nightmare, now’s your chance!
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Is this a good idea?” And the answer is… probably not. But let’s be honest, Voivod hasn’t had a good idea since, like, 1988. But that’s what makes them so endearing! They’re gloriously, unapologetically weird, and they don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. So, if you’re a die-hard Voivod fan with more money than sense, go ahead and throw some cash their way. Just don’t come crying to me when the game turns out to be a glitchy, unplayable mess. 😂
And let’s not forget the history! Voivod, the “big four” of Canadian thrash (along with Sacrifice, Razor, and… Annihilator? Seriously?), reached mainstream success with “Nothingface” in 1989. ONE album charted. ONE. But hey, they also have a documentary called “We Are Connected,” which probably means it’s about their struggle to find a decent internet connection on tour. 📡
They’ve been touring in support of “Morgöth Tales,” because apparently re-recording old songs is easier than writing new ones. And “Synchro Anarchy” won a Juno Award! Because Canada has, like, five metal bands. 🇨🇦
So, there you have it. “Voivod: The Nuclear Warrior.” A video game so insane, so ambitious, so utterly Voivodian, that it just might work. Or it might crash and burn in a spectacular display of pixelated chaos. Either way, it’s going to be entertaining as hell to watch.🍿
Photo credit: Catherine Deslauriers, who probably regrets ever agreeing to work with these lunatics. 📸
Now go forth and waste your money! You know you want to. 😈 Just don’t blame me when your sanity starts to slip. 🤪
Chord F. Discord, the Beethoven of Buffoonery, is a self-taught expert in music who once claimed he could “play the kazoo in four languages.”
Born in Crescendo, Indiana, Chord’s first brush with fame came when he accidentally entered a yodeling contest thinking it was a pie-eating competition—and won both categories.
Chord F. Discord: proving that laughter, much like a poorly tuned ukulele, is truly universal.
