THE GREAT ESCAPE
“I HATE THINKING ABOUT THE HORRIBLE THINGS GOING ON IN THE WORLD, AND I HATE KNOWING THAT THEY’RE GOING ON. WE’VE CREATED ANOTHER SPACE AS AN ESCAPE FOR OURSELVES — AND OUR FANS”
— Brent Hinds
OVER THE LAST 21-plus years, Mastodon have established themselves as one of the best post-2000 progressive, psychedelic metal bands. Born with an equal love of Melvins, Metallica, Rush and Neurosis, the Atlanta-based quartet have blown minds with their bleak, angular rhythms, abrupt tempo changes, meandering atmospherics and psychotronic imagery. And, like the best prog-rockers, Mastodon have crafted multifaceted concept albums that have journeyed through haunting fantasy and scifi scenes. They based 2004’s Leviathan on Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. Two years later, Blood Mountain addressed the plight of a man stranded in a mountain range inhabited by terrifying creatures. In 2009, they wrote Crack the Skye about the cosmic visions of a comatose mind-traveler. And in 2017 they crafted Emperor of Sand around the story of a doomed man fleeing a death sentence in the scorching desert.
“WE GRAVITATE TOWARD THE SADNESS OF LIFE AND WRITE ABOUT IT, AND OUR FANS GRAVITATE TOWARD THAT. AND I THINK BEING ABLE TO RELATE TO THE KIND OF REAL-LIFE SADNESS IN OUR MUSIC GIVES THEM COMFORT”
— Bill Kelliher
“When I do music, I do this thing to escape — pull a Houdini on myself and try not to think about things that are negative as fuck,” says lead guitarist and vocalist Brent Hinds, from behind the wheel of a car he’s driving to the airport to pick up his girlfriend. “I hate thinking about the horrible things that are going on in the world, and I hate knowing that they’re going on. So we’ve just created another space as an escape for ourselves and our fans.”
On one level, that’s true. Mastodon’s music is complex and challenging, meandering through an escapist realm of sludgy riffs and atmospheric passages. The band’s eighth studio release, Hushed and Grim, Mastodon’s first double album, is both otherwordly and visceral. It’s also the group’s most musically diverse release to date. There are tumbling, trenchant metal cuts (“Pain with an Anchor”), expansive blues-embellished epics (“The Beast”), tribal and haunting soundscapes (“Dagger”), bereaved keyboard-laden songs (“Skeleton of Splendor”) and angsty, poppy numbers (“Teardrinker”).
Yet, as much of a sonic journey as the band’s albums have been, Mastodon’s music has frequently stemmed from pain, helplessness and loss. surfaced from mental images Hinds had after an assault in 2007 that left him in a coma and close to death; the record also addressed the tragic overdose of drummer Brann Dailor’s sister Skye. The title track of 2011’s is an homage confronted the hopelessness and fear of mortality that was driven home after bassist and vocalist Troy Sanders’ wife was stricken with cancer (she has been in remission for years) and guitarist Bill Kelliher’s mother died of the disease. Tragically, the time Kelliher spent writing was also filled with misfortune and pain. Between the time the band finished and started working on the new album, their longtime manager Nick John died of pancreatic cancer, tour manager Bob Dallas passed away from an undisclosed illness and Kelliher’s wife was stricken with a rare disease (amyloidosis) and had to undergo intensive treatment.
