I am a sucker for a close harmony. Especially when it is accompanied by catchy, warm, earth-toned riffs. But that is not the only reason for me picking this album up for review.
A large contributing factor for my interest in this record is that Howling Giant are on Magnetic Eye Records, having been on Blues Funeral – two labels that are a byword for quality when it comes to the languid end of the metal spectrum.
But the main reason for this review is that Jadd, the prime mover behind Blues Funeral (and Meteor City, way back when people needed convincing that the phrase “desert rock” didn’t mean another damn Eagles album) offered Howling Giant’s debut full-length, A Space Between Worlds, on me in the autumn of 2019. It didn’t even matter that due to an IT glitch, he began the email with “Hey, [first name]” – I was piqued by the mention of Baroness, King Buffalo and ASG. Not because Howling Giant sound like those bands, Jadd wrote, but because they all create “a little pocket universe you slip into”.
He was right. But at that pre-plague time, I was busy, my head was full of noise and someone else had promised to review it for this eminent publication. But the album stuck with me. The just-right combination of riffage, sci-fi cheese and – yes – close harmonies made A Space Between Worlds a record that refuses to leave my “getting stuff done” playlist.
So this review is a kind of apology to the band – and to Jadd – because I got a free album, and have been enjoying it for over six years, but was never bothered to tell anyone how good it is.
And in the interim, Howling Giant, who were only a couple of years out of music school and had just shed a cloak of prog when they made A Space Between Worlds, released another album, Glass Future, as well as a split record with Seargent Thunderhoof. And I have to confess I missed them both.
So I picked this record up as a kind of recompense. Which would have been slightly awkward, had it been sub-par.
Thankfully it isn’t. It is a beautiful, mesmeric, riff-laden collection of songs. It has all the bits that made A Space… a triumph, with the tightness and musicianship that comes with playing together for almost a decade. The fact that this is the first album the band actually made it to a studio also probably adds to the cohesiveness of the whole thing.
The press blurb says the songs’ lyrics deal with a novice deity dealing with primordial chaos (very relatable), but this does not have the feel of a concept album – in a good way. You could easily dip into ‘Sceptre and Scythe’ with its arpeggiated riffs and vertigo-inducing descending chords into the chorus, or the lyrical, woozy instrumental ‘Lesser Gods’ and enjoy them just as much as if you listened to them as part of the album sequence.
The quality of every song is extremely high – special mention should go to drummer Zach Wheeler, whose skills with the sticks elevate the music from “yeah” to “shit yeah!”. And the introduction of a second guitarist in Adrian Lee Zambrano adds an extra epicness to the sound in general.
But such is the right of a reviewer, I will pick out three songs that are a cut above the rest. The first is the opener, ‘Canyons’, which is a 1968 Mustang GT of a song. The second is ‘Melchor’s Bones’, which has a riff so big they should make a statue out of it. And the third is the closer, ‘Beholder II: The Labyrinth’, which features riff work that sounds like King Buffalo with extra jalapeños.
To play another reviewer’s right card, I am going to change my opinion from the previous paragraph and argue that it is unfair to pick out two songs out of the 10 (well, nine plus a short acoustic interlude) on offer and just implore you to listen to the whole thing. And please, do what I failed to do six years ago. Tell the world about them. They deserve it.
