Review Summary: The pointiest arrow in their quiver
The Hu are a band often hand-waved away as a gimmick band. It's a criticism I can somewhat understand even if I don't really agree. With the release of their latest album
Hun, they double and triple down on their associated "gimmicks" to the extent where I feel they successfully conquer and claim a subgenre of folk metal unique to the cultural influences infused into their sound.
For the handful of you unfamiliar -
The Hu are a Mongolia-based folk band who heavily integrate local traditional musicality into their sound. However, where other so-called "gimmicks bands" are content to cut an impression along the lines of
"we are that metal band that features a violin!",
The Hu embrace wholeheartedly the musical tradition of their land in
all possible respects. This includes instrumentation with the distinctive sounding strings from the guitar-like
tovshuur, the two-stringed fiddle-esque
morin khuur and the local woodwind flute known as the
tsuur. Then there are the vocals which often feature the unmistakable technique of Mongolian throat singing combined with a very harsh and guttural delivery of the vocals in general. These Mongolian-language vocals sound inherently coarse to the ear of non-speaker like myself. Another reason for the rough texture thereof is the lyrical themes and content. Many of these songs are clearly war-chants and rallying cries - recalling the great and terrible militaristic history and the martial, hard-wearing culture of the Mongolian people - in their own language. These words are accordingly delivered with a ton of bite, almost as if they were spat at an opposing army gathered across the battlefield. Despite the name of the album, I did not detect many particular references to the Huns, the steppe-horde predecessors of the Great Khan and his endlessly vast empire, who himself is honoured in their earlier works.
The Hu take this rather unique blend of Mongolian folk influence and combine it with a distinctly robust foundation of more traditional metal music instrumentation - to a greater extent than they ever have before. The resultant sound is immediately empowering and energizing, full of forward driving momentum. The Mongolian instruments impart, whether inherently or by learned association, a rather sinister tone whenever they appear, sounding like the stings and flourishes accompanying ever-building tension in horror films, calling to mind scenes of danger and bloodshed whenever they rise from the metal melodies. The majority of songs here follow a rather up-tempo, galloping rhythm which is wonderfully appropriate for such an equestrian culture. Collectively, this work pointedly comes across as a collection of chants for battle or as an honorific to the fallen heroes foregone, whether you read the translated lyrics or not. The vocal tones and instrumental energy convey the spirit of the music wonderfully, even absent comprehension of the words. The few tracks which do indeed buck this trend do manage to stand out:
The single-bait track
Lost Soul rather curiously featuring American Jonny Hawkins of
Nothingmore and his English vocals unexpectedly works phenomenally well. The track features a lively bass-tone in the background and an occasional electronic/synth layer for a much more contemporary production than the rest of the record. The duelling English/Mongolian vocals in pop style compliment each other really well. It's a fun song, but the 'mainstream appeal' proposal is obvious and veers dangerously close to the aforementioned 'gimmick act' pigeonhole, thus I'm glad its the only song of it's kind on the record. Then there is the tribute song
Echoes of My Father which strikes a tone of nostalgic longing, and the uniquely calm vocal tones clearly conveys the respect toward the paternal figures borne out in the lyrics. The longest track,
Universe is another restrained affair, a long and winding progressive song which frequently changes up sounds and styles while lyrically standing staggered in awe of the creation around us here on Earth and beyond. Sure, some of the remaining songs with their charging beats and threatening vocals can blend together a little, exaggerated by the inscrutably foreign nature of the Mongolian language. To this end I recommend calling up translated lyrics and following along. This naturally provides more to dig into when the fantastic vocal performances begin to sound like yet another instrument to my uncomprehending ears.
A particular mention
MUST be given to the production. Almost always, there is more going on here sonically than any typical four- or five-piece band you've heard, and yet there is a huge space for the rhythm section to stand and thunder like the hooves of many hundred horses, atop which stand the almost tangible electric guitar tones along with the more atypical strings, flute sounds and jaw-harps. This is followed by the often layered vocals - throat singing, chants, harmonies, hums and main vocals featuring multiple distinct vocalists. Somehow all of this comes across with picture-perfect clarity, really making this record and absolute joy to listen to - filled with textures and layers to peel away and delineate with subsequent listens.
Swinging from 'folk music with metal elements' to 'metal music with folk elements'
The Hu blaze a trail in Mongolian folk metal. By continuing to follow the guiding arrow of their cultural musical heritage and deftly fusing it with powerful metal music core they produce their most accomplished and complete album yet. They string their bow with all the traditional touches they can muster in a manner that feels as though it embraces their culture with pride, not as a cheap tacked-on aesthetic. Drawing their bow with an energetic and skillful performance all round, honed by a beautiful production, this loosed arrow flies straight and true striking dead centre.
