Whether you think positively or negatively about Hammerfall, the Swedes have to be respected for being one of the initial bands to break heavy metal from the doldrums created by the music industry’s obsession with finding the next Kurt Cobain and trying to replicate and extend the success of grunge back in the 90s. You have to recognise that, back then, bands from Seattle were still a huge deal, nü-metal was starting to emerge from whatever neon-coloured gutter the Great Music Gods in the Sky were laughing at us from and metal proper was continually being cast aside like the proverbial redheaded stepchild by movers, shakers, tastemakers and part-time defenders of the steel. And as ‘80s concert t-shirts weren’t yet thrift shop staples, hipsters had yet to discover metal’s supposed novelty. Then, along came Hammerfall (initially a sorta side project featuring members of In Flames and Dark Tranquillity), roaring out of Gothenburg with Glory to the Brave, a loud and proud salute to Iron Maiden, Helloween, Pretty Maids and Accept resplendent with Joacim Cans’ sword polishing vocals, swooping harmonies complementing tasty power/speed metal and leads out the wazoo. Hammerfall may have offered a glossier take on heavy metal’s fantastical world, but there’s no doubt Glory to the Brave, in a sort of backwards irony, offered something fresh to what was going on at the time and inspired bands like Children of Bodom and Primal Fear to get deeper in touch with their metal edges.
Granted, I personally haven’t paid much focussed attention to what Hammerfall has been up to over the course of the albums bookended by that sparkling debut and new record, Built to Last. But, peeking my head into the castle hall once in a while, it’s unsurprising to note that it’s consistently been about fists to the sky, majestically inoffensive, dungeons ‘n’ dragons, swords ‘n’ sorcery power metal. And there’s no shortage of pride about such on display, as indicated on many of the lyrics glistened forth on album number ten. What’s decisively troubling about this isn’t the band’s dedication to the cause; it’s the overt redundancy and that what they’ve put in the spotlight is the equivalent of grade nine poetry class.
Despite album opener “Bring It” storming down the blacktop like Judas Priest on a Harley missing its catalytic converter, I’m left wondering what fourteen-year-old penned gems like, “Your words of slander won’t take us down/ We see right through you, a shattered clown/We walk the walk and we talk the talk/We’ll back it up if you wanna rock” or “We’ll write the songs that are still unheard/And at the dawn of the new crusade/You’re at a standstill beneath the blade.” “Hammer High” sees the same teenager picking up the band’s pen (“Protecting the steel/This is my deal”), but in a shift away from norms and standards, instead of picking the pockets of the greats of heavy metal and re-jigging them enough to make it worth the while as they’ve ably done in the past, Hammerfall have too many parts of this particular track sounding a heck of a lot like Tyr’s signature tune, “Hold the Heathen Hammer High.” Not to say Tyr isn’t great in their own way (and damn, if you don’t dig “Hold the Heathen Hammer High” you truly are inhuman, stone cold and soulless), but to take such obvious inspiration from bands that came after yours is a recipe for small ‘d’ disaster as Metallica demonstrated with the lack of stylistic forethought that went into St. Anger. Kirk was right. Really? No solos in Metallica?! Because that’s what everyone else was doing so at the time? Fuck that noise.
On the same tip, “The Sacred Vow” has the sort of simple, molten metal riff that screams tearing down the Pacific Coast Highway with the top-down, though the overall effectiveness is muted with the appearance of a disjointed chorus with a halved tempo and plodding aesthetic akin to recent Manowar. On the opposite end of that spectrum, “Stormbreaker” presents as simplistic in its approach, but hits harder as it employs a wider swath of colour and mood, complete with a middle section and solo that shuffles to the left and pulls from Van Halen’s 1984, a small step outside the norm that is appreciated. They take a larger step away from denim and leather and frilly pirate shirts with the bejewelled ballad “Twilight Princess” and the result crashes somewhere between Air Supply and Foreigner’s “I Wanna Know What Love Is.” It’s a weak throwback to the days of power ballads (without the power, it must be pointed out) at best and insufferably unlistenable at worst. Were Cans caterwauling “Oh, the humanity” it would have at least had some redemption in hilarity.
The formula isn’t altered much as the album progresses and the only surprise is how terrible these ‘sword wielding, metal pride, fantasy battle’ lyrics are when you actually listen to them from under the lens of someone who’s grown up somewhat since 1997, not just gotten taller. “New Breed” is a deep cut and deep offender with its demonstration of how low whoever is writing this stuff can go lyrically as an archetypal heavy metal riff that’s been used more times than any of us can count is paired with a blatant homage to Accept’s “Balls to the Wall.” It’s amazing to think pablum like “New breed, old breed/We are all the same breed/Heavy metal running through our veins” is being spewed from the yap of men well into their 40s. This is the sort of thing people cotton onto when they talk about metal’s ridiculous imagery, and it’s amazing to think that anyone has ever taken this sort of thing seriously enough to form concerned parents groups. Our assumption is that hysterical overreaction works to blur the lines of fantasy, ridiculousness and reality in those who would drop angry petitions on the steps of government.
Listen, I love metal as much as any of you yahoos, but sometimes the imagery, and the desire to pair it with appropriate, but well-worn sounds, falls on the wrong side of cheese, parody and/or kitschy and Built to Last is a prime example of how pandering to a specific demographic can turn around bite you in the butt. In not only hanging on to and airing out tropes so highly and mightily, but also referencing their influences as blatantly as they have done here, Hammerfall has inadvertently committed the gravest sin for a band that has been at the forefront of their chosen subgenre for as many years as they have: they’ve become followers instead of continuing to lead the pack.
Score: 4/10
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqYzI8vMG_0[/youtube]
