Mogwai - The Hawk Is Howling Album Review (2008)

I was the given the opportunity to review the new Mogwai album for The Music Magazine - thanks again SG! I am a huge fan which does not help with a balanced objective review but I always try to be fair and reasoned. This is probably the best album of the year so far - a colossal one hour of pure musical masterclass. The band are just getting better and better.

The review:

Modern musicians have been making instrumental music for decades. Ever since the dawn of the digital age songs without vocals have existed from Mike Oldfield and Jean Michel Jarre to Orbital, the purity of music has been put to the forefront. With bands like Pink Floyd and Dire Straits and the concept of the 'guitar solo', music took on a whole new dimension and it seemed acceptable to play with structure and arrangement; to create eight minute songs full of 'atmosphere' and leave wide open spaces free from vocals. So it was inevitable that a band such as Mogwai should exist. They have bridged the gap left by the dance genre bands and picked up guitars again. This is instrumental music made using rock instruments. 'The Hawk Is Howling' is the sixth album from Mogwai and at an hour in length, it is a huge achievement.

The absence of lyrics in the music of Mogwai is what makes it so interesting. One's focus is purely on the sounds and textures generated from musical expression and not by words and voice. Only the title of each song is a guide. Yes, vocals can be an instrument in their own right (see Thor Birgisson from Sigur Rós) but more often than not, the lyrics direct a specific listening path - not the voice itself. You just don't get that with Mogwai. Their creations are more than just background music without a vocalist. Each musician becomes one voice. And the music sings.

'The Hawk Is Howling' opens with the magnificent 'I'm Jim Morrison, I'm Dead', beginning as simple piano and guitar before the instrumentation fills out two minutes in as a series of dreamy chord changes set to a ghostly backdrop. The drums and cymbals build slowly to a climax; a mood drenched melody of keys, guitars, drums and ultimately a swathe of squealing strings. The chaotic ending, cumulating with a cartoon sound of a television set being switched off at the socket, is meticulously planned. It is what we expect - no demand - from the opening track of a new Mogwai album.

The start of 'Batcat' brings in more noise - guitars first then huge pounding drums. The guitar work, a mesmerising blur of multiple layers, is astonishing. The song threatens to settle down two minutes in but remains a crouching tiger, waiting for prey to pass. A brief interlude of grinding buzzing guitars leads into the powerful last section, taken over by a constant barrage of percussion and seemingly random blasts of aggression, before a sudden halt. 'Danphe And The Brain' is a much more subdued electronic based piece, gliding rather than punching its way through five minutes of subtlety and poise. The mid-section builds briefly then immediately softens to fall away again, plunging into a soft bed of strings and peppery drums. The inevitable build up arrives late, lifting the music to a predictable crescendo underpinned with more squealing guitars.
The sultry guitars of 'Local Authority' generate another achingly beautiful song, undulating and flowing with ambient atmosphere. This is the shortest and most gentle track on the album, taking time on its four minute journey. It leads neatly into 'The Sun Smells Too Loud', a massive swirl of churning drums and guitars centred with a startling hazy summers day riff. At the three minute mark heavy keyboards stomp in and the electronics create a more artificial blend before the guitars return, tribal drums echoing the sound. The second half provides little variation and instead of a rousing climax, the music simply drifts away into waves of static.

'Kings Meadow' could be about many things but is most likely the acknowledgement of the top field at Glastonbury - one of the most spiritual places in the UK. This is represented in a very delicate ethereal piece which shimmers with hidden energy and elegance. The subtlety of piano and rain-like percussion coupled with a simple guitar creates visions of dancing, meditation and a soft shower through sunlight. The perception of simplicity has never been so complex.

Into the last four tracks and half an hour of the album remains. The intriguingly named 'I Love You, I'm Going To Blow Up Your School' is nothing short of astonishing. A song in many parts: the first minute is the most ambient part of the album, composed of fragile bass guitar before the second minute introduces more layers and a piano. The mesmerising arrangement drifts into the fourth minute with more exquisite guitar work (very reminiscent of Tool). Half way through and the atmosphere is becoming cold and menacing, the music building and then falling away again, only to come back stronger in the last two minutes - powerful and threatening - and then exploding in a release of built up tension and bottled up rage. A torrent of grinding guitars scream out in a series of spiralling aftershocks, leaving only buzzing guitars in the crumbling smouldering wreckage. It is a horror movie fuelled love song, lacking political correctness but remains the ultimate expressive metaphor.

The eight minute epic 'Scotland's Shame' opens with a buzzing church organ effect, joined by more wavering electronics and then a heavy menacing drum track. The guitars take over, laying down a melody across the persistent drums while others sing out in falsetto like a string based choir of angels. The song plods onward relentlessly without dragging and descends into a simple arrangement of pounding echoing drums and a last minute which genuinely sounds like distorted vocals amid the fizzing guitars. It ends full circle back with the church organ. 'Thank You Space Expert' has a desperately laboured opening but is rescued by some stunning guitars. This is followed by nearly two minutes of wide open space before vibrating back into life with the most heart wrenching piano - dramatic yet understated, controlled and free. If they ever remake 2001: A Space Odyssey they will use this instead of The Blue Danube.

'The Hawk Is Howling' closes with a finale worthy of the Mogwai name. 'The Precipice' takes a couple of minutes to start building and then a full minute and a half of guitars and drums to metamorphose into something a lot more substantial. This echoes 'We No Here' (the end of 'Mr. Beast') with added melody and purpose; a much more satisfying conclusion to the album and a remarkable hour of music.

Mogwai has deconstructed the enormous ferocity of 'Mr. Beast' and rebuilt it with the delicate stirrings of 'Happy Songs For Happy People' to create a hybrid full of tension, sensitivity and breathtaking beauty. It is an evolved sound safe within acquired boundaries, never straying from the true path but occasionally allowing for brief excursions. If anything the music is so distinctive and so constrained within Mogwai's wonderful world that it becomes a bit too familiar. But there is enough variation and sheer unadulterated supreme musicianship on 'The Hawk Is Howling' that between the new and the old it is always balanced and controlled. When it is this good, they don't need words. Mogwai has always let the music do the talking.

-- CS (for The Music Magazine)