Album Type: Full Length
Date
Released:
23/03/2017
Label: Independent
Track by track these rusted broke-down
tractor boys weave a landscape that is reminiscent of the groovier parts
of Grief or perhaps an even more slowed down and swampy take on some Weedeater. With a natural emphasis on groove and
natural timing and feel, this album moves like a sloth with a spliff in its
mouth.
“Self Titled”
DD track listing:
1).
Blackened
2).
Fever
3).
Hate
4).
Snakes
5).
Knives
The Review:
A
simple internet search on "Manchester , KY
demographics" reveals the catalyst in order to produce such a
suffocated and frustrated brand of Southern sludge from the gloom merchants
that go by Hawkbill.
According to the County's facebook page; under sightseeing- one of the main
attractions next to the Baptist
Church is the Clay County
Correctional Facility. Charming, wouldn't you agree? Become a pill-billy,
praise Jesus or do what these fine young Southern Gentlemen did- channel your
frustration and despair into a trance-inducing, hypnotic groove anti-hymnal for
the dejected.
Track
by track these rusted broke-down tractor boys weave a landscape that
is reminiscent of the groovier parts of Grief or perhaps an even more
slowed down and swampy take on some Weedeater, with a natural emphasis on groove
and natural timing and feel. I've always been a proponent that if it's from the
South, it moves like a sloth with a spliff in its mouth. With track titles such
as "Blackened", "Hate", "Snakes" and my personal favorite "Knives"...this stoned sloth has been left out in the rain for
a week and ran into some train-hopping crust kids and is babbling incoherently
about the vicious nature of a Clay
County existence. The
abstract, albeit psychotic metaphor of that last sentence may be an indicator
of where this band's first self-recorded and produced effort puts you after a
listen or two.
Inspired
guitar work, precise and tactful rhythms carried upon the rhinoceros that
lives in the low-end via bass are drizzled and poured all over by psychotic and
tortured howls that drip and melt all over the aural landscape. Imagine a stack
of pancakes, made of solid hash and then pour a heroic dose level of some kind
of maple syrup mind-fuck mushroom concoction that some mountain wizard bartered
for with some ammunition a few years ago and that's what you're getting into
with this Hawkbill
endeavor. No...Manchester
I will not be stopping by to see your highlighted social media suggestions
anytime soon. I'd rather admire what social quagmires and abject level poverty
have produced from your denizens from a safe viewing and especially listening
distance. Hat's off to Hawkbill. Grim Trashcan definitely approved!!!
“Hawkbill” is available here