Best known for their ragged blues rock sound, Heartless Bastards manage a difficult feat on their third full-length, The Mountain. They change their base of operations, perform an overhaul on their sound and rub sandpaper across their noisy friction without abandoning their revivalism identity...and distance themselves even further from what is accepted on national radio. This isn't a play for corporate acceptance or cashing in for exposure. It's the result of a band in transition—different lineup and location. They may not seek to reinvent the wheel, but they're loosening up their grasp and wandering down different avenues with cocksure pride. Their garage roots have thinned out now: more often than not they sound like the Band or My Morning Jacket, not the Kinks or Kills. Now they're an eclectic rock band that remains a stripped down power trio but with a much broader sound to enhance their reputation (they even find room for steel pedal, mandolin and more) .
But it's also not an entirely successful move. I don't mind the new polish—a few tracks wouldn't work as well with all the grit and gristle attached. The tragedy is that focusing fodder meant for extended jams makes things either sound mechanically plotted or dreadfully slow. In the case of The Mountain, the tempo is frequently moody and pensive, which can read at times as plodding and lugubrious. “Hold Your Head High” moves like a sickly elephant and saps away the energy that had built up before it. “Nothing Seems the Same” begins and ends with a lot of percussive fire—Dave Colvin's rattling hi-hats and crash cymbals navigating between the toms that get thwacked as if John Bonham's spirit wandered into the studio. In the middle, the pace picks up but fizzles just as fast. The stretches between these peaks lumber and drone turgidly—this song isn't a mountain, it's an entire range of peaks and valleys.
Some blame could certainly be issued against the title track, which opens up the album and sets the bar unfairly high. The guitar might as well belong to Neil Young, and the rest of the instruments feel plugged in by Crazy Horse refugees. It even sounds like it could have fit into Rust Never Sleeps; good enough, in fact, to stand alongside great ones like “Thrasher” and “Sedan Delivery.” That a power trio could make such a full band sound is mightily impressive. And with its searing psychedelic slopes and crackling thunder tops, it earns its name and can't possibly crumble beneath the weight. This one glares at the remaining monolithic jams and sneers at them for being so feckless.
But The Mountain isn't just a big heavy-blues-rock record, nor does Heartless Bastards plumb the same sources ad nauseum (like Wolfmother did with Zeppelin and Sabbath). There's as much gentle whisper as incendiary roar here. While they dabbled at times with folk inspiration in the past, they push the boundaries into that region with some frequency now. “So Quiet” is a quaint folk waltz and “Had to Go” adds bluegrass banjo twang and dusty fiddles to those dreamy qualities. They're awfully delicate and spare to compete with the band's biggest draw—Erika Wennerstrom's voice. She has a Rita Coolidge meets PJ Harvey vibe going for her, and she's always most electrifying when she lets those pipes steam and wail at full force. So even when she brings it back to earth for the woodsy endeavors, it's still too demonstrative to rest easily with the mountain cabin folk rock. But when the instruments are alone during a lengthy flight, the song excels. At seven-and-a-half minutes, “Had to Go” is the longest track on here, but the jaunty banjo and fiddle add eccentric new tangled notes repeatedly during the drawn out second half; far bolder and more enriched than a lot of their earlier heavy dirges.
Elsewhere, “Be So Happy” is a sparse, mid-tempo acoustic number that gives us a breath following the enormous opener. The lyrics are likably simple, hearkening to the days of bearded pros drinking from jugs and venturing into the forest without sharing the typical hippie ideals. Wennerstrom sells every moment: “I could be so sweet if I just quit being so sour...I'm gonna see what tomorrow brings/I'm gonna take it to the world outside...Oh, I'm longing to be/Out in the sweet unknown.” “Out at Sea” is a tough rocker that sounds like it could have fit in on a Sleater-Kinney or Breeders record; one of the few efforts that feels leftover from their more garage-and-punk-blues roots. “Early in the Morning” is also quick and confrontational, sizzling long enough so when it calms down and lets Wennerstrom drawl, “I am on my own, am on my own,” you know the bridge until the next savage moment will be compelling. And closer “Sway” ups the tempo from earlier long rockers by a single beat—and feels shorter by half despite closing in on six minutes.
Despite the evidence of the bookend tracks, Heartless Bastards are better off shitkicking through the heavier moments and breaking them up with their impeccably arranged acoustic numbers. If they can figure out a way to make the spaces in the heavier material breathe without wheezing, they could be a truly complete package. But until then, they're missing a key ingredient to how they want to write songs. Despite the trouble spots, The Mountain is a worthwhile effort, but revisiting stale material keeps it from becoming essential. Luckily, we live in the digital age and you can edit without compunction. After that, it'll be as towering and imposing as its name suggests.
"The Mountain" is on sale February 3, 2009 from Jagjaguwar.
