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 Hawkbillendeavor. 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
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