Author: Sandi Sadar Šoba
Artist: Mastodon
Label: Reprise Records
Released: 2011
Running time: 53:01
Rating: 4.6/5
Four records in, it was clear: Mastodon had exhausted the primordial beginnings of their universe. Their white-hot world has taken shape, and once the original, primal creative magma cooled, an era of polishing and chiseling set in. Call it evolution or call it aging, pick whichever you like, but the fact you can’t miss is that the Atlanta foursome can invent new concepts of their own perception without getting lost in pointless waffling!
When The Hunter spun for the first time on my player, it was obvious that at the heart of this four-leaf clover, the most fertile sludge musicians the world currently has to offer (if not the best, then at least close to the definition of perfection), there’s still an ocean of unspoken lyrics and unplayed harmonies, hanging off one another and, by sheer necessity of their toxicity, luring you so damn hard into dancing and surrendering to their charms that shamans and legions of black-mass sorcerers alike would envy them. Do I even need to stress that from the very first moment I was simply blown away by the beauty that roared out of the speakers and filled the corners of my little patch of imaginary peace and quiet?
But let’s take it from the top. The fact is that The Hunter is the wonderful fifth child in the collection of outstanding creations from these Atlanta metal rogues. If, after Crack The Skye, you were convinced there was simply nothing left to say that wouldn’t spoil the sweet aftertaste of esoterica and mystical manna your ears were feeding on while your soul dissolved in a volatile mix of incense and forbidden substances, don’t worry, you won’t be left disappointed and high and dry this time. The Hunter is a sensible continuation of its majestic predecessor. And if Crack The Skye said goodbye to Dailor’s sister Skye, who died far too young, The Hunter too carries a trace of gloom, farewell and, yes, brilliantly soul-stirring consolation. This time around the record is Hinds’ farewell to his brother, who died in a hunting accident right while the hellish foursome were recording and creating the new album. A tragedy, sure, but one that us fans, forever hungry for voyeurism and a peculiar kind of Mastodon necrophilia, can take comfort in and feed on.
The record opens with a fan of outstanding riffs in Black Tounge, which points the way this train of passionate destruction will be barreling down this time: no needless scribbled-on extras, no prog, closer to a stripped-down but bulked-up version of Mastodon than the one you know from Blood Mountain or the hellishly brilliant Leviathan, though with less guttural oratory. Classic stuff is something special, and by Curl The Burl you’ve already got goosebumps, because it feels like someone dumped a good measure of Ozzy, Queens Of The Stone Age, Kyuss and Led Zeppelin on steroids into the same pot.
The album also treats you to some psychedelic Floyd-style moments, and instead of long-form, quarter-hour droning, the songs run around a healthy three minutes or just a bit longer. A conservative but by no means superfluous reach for different definitions of harmony. A sexy combination that consistently and explicitly gives up on crushing heaviness, though never on its peculiar optimism and liveliness, carries on in Blasteroid and in the wonderfully caressing tension of Stargasm. This time Mastodon don’t focus on a global concept, but take you on a tour of thirteen stops that, in their schematic simplicity, are punchy, beautiful snapshots of their inner world and dreamy flashes.
A fascination with old-school sci-fi movies is also part of this remarkable world, where lonely octopuses roam (Octupus Has No Friends), where heavy moments and depression pin you to the ground (All The Heavy Lifting), and I could go on. The title track The Hunter has the sharpness and pain of The Last Baron. “Through fire embers glow / Haunted I lift the stone / Letting go your spirit flies.” The soul leaves this world and drifts off into a parallel universe of worldly life, while what remains unseen is a riddle and a comfort to all the mourners of this world. Peace and spoken pain fill the heart, and the hum of total surrender delivers one of the best Hinds solos we’ve heard so far. The Hunter is Hinds’ mantra and his soul’s bandage, and, as part of the job, the rest of us get to share in it too …
If I said earlier that this record is basically a kind of non-concept debut that breathes with fuller lungs, then after a full spectral analysis of what I’ve heard I can also confirm that it’s a mature piece of music, one that will leave not just the old fans sated and satisfied, but also everyone who sensed the nourishing potential in the more melodic moments of Blood Mountain. The difference is that this time the climb to the peaks of the soul’s universe is more instant, more like hiking with the help of modern technology, rather than the pioneering, backbreaking grind that only a handful of chosen ones or self-proclaimed messiahs are up to.
And there’s an extra thrill: it’s also the first record where you get to hear the compositional mastery and the vocals of the gifted, inspired drummer Brann Dailor, and Mastodon have also lined up some prestigious guests who make the record sound even better. On Spectrelight, Neurosis vocalist and guitarist Scott Kelly joins the native throats. In this run of thirteen songs there’s simply not a single rotten, crumbling bit that could make the whole thing collapse like a house of cards, or that skeptics and misanthropes in love with their own greatness could use to sow the seeds of stinking weeds of doubt and flimsy objections among the delighted. Still, the fact remains that the genetic makeup of this journey into the world of mastodons and the prehistoric, megalomaniacal battles of long-extinct beasts is closer to the baroque and the Renaissance frills of less primal aesthetes than to wall paintings in a smoky cave.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f3LLX9ThXjI
So the question can be asked: is The Hunter an artificial construct with which Mastodon show they simply can, and that they’re able to break the laws of their own gravitational field, or has a new period simply arrived, a new epoch in their mental and musical bloom? Either way, in this collage of outstanding guitar fragments and the stucco of dense compositions, everything is just as it should be. Melody beats the dissonant urge toward murder. Life has conquered death, and the genesis of a new proto-universe promises new years of venturing into the unknown, free of needless restrictions, clinging to generic concepts, or the expectations of the masses. The new road to immortality is paved with granite cobblestones and brilliants, which the boys, or rather men, of the band can carve however they please going forward, and let’s hope they keep testing the limits of their abilities for many years to come. The Hunter is without a doubt a record that will leave your mental phallus rock-hard for a long, long time, and let’s hope the next one doesn’t already require a crate of Viagra to relive that state …
Lineup
• Troy Sanders – vocals, bass
• Brenn Hinds – vocals, guitar
• Brann Dailor – vocals, drums, percussion
• Bill Kelliher – guitar, backing vocals
Guest musicians:
– Scott Kelly – backing vocals on Spectrlight
– Rich Morris – synthesizer and keyboards on ‘Stargasm’ and ‘Bedazzeled Fingernails’
– Will Raines – synthesizer and keyboards on ‘The Sparrow’ and ‘The Hunter’
– Dave Palmer – synthesizer and keyboards on ‘Creature Lives’
Production
Mike Elizondo
Tracklist
1. Black Tongue
2. Curl of the Burl
3. Blasteroid
4. Stargasm
5. Octopus Has No Friends
6. All the Heavy Lifting
7. The Hunter
8. Dry Bone Valley
9. Thickening
10. Creature Lives
11. Spectrelight
12. Bedazzled Fingernails
13. The Sparrow
