Hail!Hornet
Disperse the Curse
6
Hail!Hornet has an impressive Southern bloodline, comprised of members/former members from bands like Buzzov•en, Alabama Thunderpussy, Weedeater, and Sourvein. Their second album is almost two years in the making, and the result of this collaboration is a thrashing onslaught of straightforward metal unburdened by overly computerized production. Disperse the Curse is raw and uncomplicated, but at times Hail!Hornet's compositional simplicity veers towards monotony. The songs (more specifically, the riffs) are infectious and accessible, but the album undoubtedly suffers from a lack of variety. Over the course of Disperse the Curse, riff after crushing riff seem to blend into one another, leaving very little room for memorable moments.
Disperse the Curse gets off to a strong and sinister start with “Shoot the Pigs”. The ominous intro transitions into a simple, crushing, riff backed by visceral vocals and a hammering rhythm section. While the tune is predominantly thrash, there are pummeling blast beats and breakdowns that push it into more extreme territory. The album takes a sludgy turn with the title track, which stays at a plodding, down-tempo pace for far too long. The central riff is painfully simple and loses effectiveness through severe use of repetition. When the speed finally picks up towards the end, it’s a welcomed relief, if only for the much-needed change of pace.
While Hail!Hornet’s gritty and aggressive sound has immediate appeal, there’s something inherently unfocused about the album. Every track is heavy, well-executed, and dripping with bourbon-fueled anger, but there’s simply not much diversity happening with the songwriting. It’s a shame, because all of the performances are impressive, and each band member clearly knows exactly what they’re doing. A consequence of the unvaried songwriting is that while there are no blatant weaknesses in the album, there are also very few moments that truly stand out. This seems like material better experienced live through a sweat-soaked, testosterone-laden mosh pit, rather than through listening to the recording.
