Mastodon – Hushed And Grim | Album Review

Few bands have undergone as interesting an evolution as MASTODON. From humble origins weaving towering tales about giant whales, to their modern day incarnation, they’ve evolved slowly but surely from a sludge band to arguably one of the finest progressive bands in the world with their latest album Hushed And Grim. Where Remission and Leviathan brought the heaviness in the riffs, Crack The Skye brought all this along with a hefty dose of heady progresive sensibilities, crafting a sprawling concept album. While there may have been some less-highly regarded steps since (The Hunter) they’ve retained an identity all their own. Previous album Emperor of Sand pushed ever further into their new sound and with this latest album, they deserve to take their crown as one of metal’s most exciting and vital bands.

Marking their first foray into double albums, it’s also, as many of their albums have been, sadly rooted in tragedy. Across fifteen tracks, the band eulogise their manager and long-time friend Nick John, making for a deeply cathartic, stirring listen. Opener ‘Pain With An Anchor’ declares “I turn my grief to medicine”, and if that’s not as neat an encapsulation as can be managed for such a sprawling album then nothing is. It begins with a flurry of fills courtesy of Brann Dailor, whose signature style shines across the album, striking a balance between the fill-heavy style of old and accents that serve the song. Following it is ‘The Crux’, whose serpentine guitars and odd time signature gives way to a spacious melodic break topped with the gritty tones of guitarist and vocalist Brent Hinds.

‘Sickle and Peace’ follows, a soft, deftly-woven guitar line winding its way through. Elsewhere, Mastodon make clear they’ve not forgotten how to bring the heavy; ‘The Crux’ ends in strangely uplifting but no less metallic fashion and ‘Pushing The Tides’ is all rushing waves of progressive metal, capped off with Dailor’s sky-scraping chorus. ‘Peace And Tranquility’ is just that, a welcome reprieve that’s no less affecting, while ‘Dagger’ sings of picking yourself up again after being knocked back. It’s difficult to pick standout moments given the album’s sheer quality but closer ‘Gigantium’ more than lives up to its name; it’s not the longest song on the album despite nearing the seven minute mark but instead it’s the towering melodies at the outset and its closing half in which Hinds and Kelliher’s guitar work absolutely steals the show. The solos and lead work are simply sublime, leading to the perfect crescendo to release the preceding ninety minutes’ tension. 

Even with a double album, there’s no loss of momentum, nor a song that could’ve been cut. Hushed And Grim demands its runtime to truly explore the emotional spectrum of grief and to tell its story; what comes out at the end is both a eulogy and a triumphant celebration of their dear friend’s life. It’s impossible to not feel their grief and their joy at having known him; as rooted in tragedy as the album is, this may just be their finest hour.