Rumia’s musical style is a chaotic mess of disjointed genres and misplaced ambitions, revealing a lack of coherent identity or focus. Their choices come off as a desperate attempt to please everyone, resulting in a jumbled hodgepodge that fails to excel in any single area.
Folk and Ethnic Influences
Rumia’s obsession with folk and ethnic music is almost laughable. Bands like Korpiklaani and The Moon and the Nightspirit churn out the same tired old folk tunes dressed up with a “modern twist” that feels anything but fresh. The overuse of traditional instruments and melodies by Żywiołak and Rapalje reeks of a forced connection to cultural roots, more like an awkward costume party than genuine artistry.
Symphonic and Orchestral Elements
The symphonic and orchestral selections in Rumia's playlist seem like a failed attempt to add a veneer of sophistication. Nightwish and Within Temptation, with their overblown, operatic pretensions, come across as trying too hard to be epic. The inclusion of Hans Zimmer and Howard Shore, whose work is ubiquitous in every wannabe-epic playlist, only highlights Rumia's lack of originality and reliance on safe, mainstream choices. The video game soundtracks by Jeremy Soule and Gareth Coker add nothing but more clichés to the mix.
Rock and Metal
Rumia’s rock and metal choices are a predictable bore. Sonata Arctica and Avantasia deliver the same formulaic power metal that’s been done to death, while bands like Equilibrium and Turisas add nothing new, sticking to tired folk-metal clichés. The token punk and gothic entries like Bad Religion and HIM are shallow attempts to appear edgy, but ultimately fail to make any real impact.
Alternative and Experimental Sounds
The so-called “alternative” and “experimental” selections are nothing more than a pretentious jumble. Björk’s offbeat style feels out of place and forced, and Diablo Swing Orchestra’s attempts at blending genres come off as gimmicky rather than innovative. Acts like Monty Python and Miracle of Sound add a forced quirkiness that only serves to highlight Rumia’s desperation to appear different.
Electronic and Industrial
Rumia’s foray into electronic and industrial music is just as uninspired. Eisenfunk and FGFC820 bring repetitive beats and uninspired synth lines that do nothing but blend into the background. Lindsey Stirling’s violin-centric compositions are more of the same—a mishmash of classical and electronic that ends up pleasing neither camp.
Storytelling and Theatricality
The narrative-driven songs by The Decemberists and Patty Gurdy, which Rumia seems to favor, are overwrought and pretentious. The supposed “storytelling” and “theatrical” elements feel more like an amateur dramatics club than any serious musical endeavor. The operatic rock of Therion and the steampunk schtick of Abney Park come across as tired gimmicks rather than genuine creativity.
Multilingual and International Appeal
Rumia’s attempt at showcasing multilingual and international songs is just a superficial grab at diversity. Featuring songs in various languages is a transparent attempt to appear inclusive, but it ultimately lacks depth and sincerity. It’s more about ticking boxes than any real engagement with different cultures.
Nostalgia and Retro Influences
Rumia’s nostalgic selections, featuring bands like Men Without Hats and Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, feel like a lazy attempt to cash in on retro trends. These songs add nothing of value and serve only to pad out a playlist already bursting with mediocrity. It’s a trip down memory lane that no one asked for and no one needs.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Rumia’s musical style is an incoherent mishmash that fails to carve out a distinct identity. Their desperate attempt to cover every genre and influence results in a playlist that’s as inconsistent as it is uninspired. Far from being a rich tapestry, it’s a tangled mess that highlights a lack of direction and originality.
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