Review: Horndal ‘Head Hammer Man’

In 2021 I reviewed Swedish metal band Horndal’s second album Lake Drinker. Having found a home on Prosthetic Records they followed up their Remains (2019) debut with a modern-day horror story of the poisoning of the town that gave them their name by big tech companies and looking back at my review slightly smarts.

Horndal 'Head Hammer Man' Artwork
Horndal ‘Head Hammer Man’ Artwork

Having asked to dissect the follow-up, Head Hammer Man, my assessment of Lake Drinker was caught up in the feelings of outrage generated by slick, online media messages and reeked of privilege in the suggestion that the tone of the band didn’t match the gravity of what had been done to the town.

Lake Drinker was a tale of the sad, crushing weight of the towns demise and whilst I will maintain it was no more than a good, solid sludge album, I have to hold my hands up and say it was a dick move to try and tell them how they should articulate their feelings.

So, with that piece of journalistic admin out of the way, we return to the scene of the crime, as Horndal continues to document the injustices that have befallen their home. This time we step back from the search engine related corporate vandalism and journey back to the great strike of 1909 and the leader of the defiant Horndal iron workers Alrik Andersson, dubbed the titular Head Hammer Man.

As this is a music review and not a history lesson, let’s just say even a victory for the good guys carries a cost and Andersson was forced into exile as punishment for standing against the tide of greed.

Look it up, maybe on Yahoo or something…

Sonically, the album opens with the robust, considered start of the title track. Cymbals ring like hammer strikes on steel for added atmospherics before the gravelly, blue collar sludge focuses from a maelstrom beginning into a slamming groove with Henrik Levahn bellowing his mission statement assuming the angle of Andersson, complete with excerpts from speeches given by the man himself.

Calling: Labour abruptly switches the pace. Hugely influenced by traditional metal, this feels like a thrash crossover with modern era Judas Priest as the twin harmonies of Henrik Levahan and Fredrik Boethius ride majestically over the battery laid down by Pontus Levahn (drums) and Daniel Ekeroth (bass) to produce a satisfying chug. After the thunderous climax, complete with historic solo, there is a sense of defiant celebration that was missing from the lament of the previous outing.

This continues on Exiled as they detail Andersson’s journey to Chicago. More mid paced and interspersed with greater variation between the crushing metal and moody interludes from Pontus, with keyboards and additional percussion, it lends further dynamic elements of light and shade that were absent from their previous outing Lake Drinker.

The brutally titled Fuck The Scabs is muscular death metal tinged thrash with blistering fretboard pyrotechnics. Levahn introduces more passion into his delivery, articulating the anger and frustrations felt by the Horndal workers with defiant lyrics as the violent cacophony around him tumbles with breakdowns and lurching rhythms.

the twin harmonies of Henrik Levahan and Fredrik Boethius ride majestically over the battery laid down by Pontus Levahn (drums) and Daniel Ekeroth (bass)…

Famine naturally matches the downbeat nature of the lyrics; the crisp drum tattoo is joined by sinister horror score like lead guitar, matching the theme of the previous album showing the band are deeply committed to retaining this dark side of their nature and where they start to distinguish themselves from other sludge metal acts.

The dancing melodies and unsettling glee they take is obvious and no surprise that they carry this momentum into Blacklisted. The lead guitar licks sway giddily off the hard hitting chug into something that manages to be truly head banging. This pace suits the bands technical ability to perfection, allowing each member to shine and take the spotlight and the aspects of the story has a more distinct part to play in moving the narrative.

Case in point is album high point, The Shining Specter, with its slow-burning, marching pace, like a woozy funeral procession that is drenched with atmospherics. Levahn tells the tale in a manner to make doom bands jealous as the tremolo trills in the background. The longest and most dramatic entry in Head Hammer Man is also the most spectacular.

Evictions picks up the pace again, channelling the anger at the steelworkers facing devastating consequences for their defiance. Mixing the thrashing barrage with isolated guitar moments, barrelling riffs and acoustic moments of tenderness keeps the old-school meets modern Prosthetic roster feel of the album.

The band have stated that it is the most ambitious album they have made and borrowed elements of their record collections from the likes of Voivod, King Crimson, Hawkind and a litany of harder edged references which clearly shows as this is socially a step beyond the solid, dependable battering of their previous work.

This ambition does not prohibit the instinct to get truly heavy and Orange Legacy begins theatrically with a powerslide before they hit you with thumping drums along with razors sharp riffs and the pulsing rhythm of final track Creature Cages feels like a surf rock summer anthem going horribly wrong. In a good way.

Here the multi-layered sounds, including Moog synth and organs from Martin Hederos (The Soundtrack of Our Lives) raises the bar further, making this another stand-out moment that leaves you feeling like the band have truly taken you on a rollercoaster journey.

The album sounds incredibly cohesive, considering it was recorded in various studios all over Sweden, including at the legendary Atlantis Metronome, and has subtleties like the use of the grand piano belonging to Swedish icons ABBA as well as guest solos from Henrik Palm.

Horndal are committed to ensuring that their town’s history is not forgotten as they document it with clear pride and want to ensure they deliver the message in the most ambitious way. That in itself is worthy of anyone’s time.

Label: Prosthetic Records
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Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden