#248 Thulsa / Stoner Crust / Matúš / 22-11-2024

  Kto si, čo robíš, čo ťa najviac zaujíma práve v týchto dňoch ? Ahoj, volám sa Matúš. Druhý mesiac som na materskej s dcérkou takže najviac...

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Monday, November 11, 2024

#138 Flork Reviews: Hrobár - Mŕtvy Ťah (2024)

 

Hrobar - MŔTVY ŤAH (2024)
by Flork


Emerging from the sleepy, historic town of Banská Štiavnica, a place known more for its art galleries, charming cafés, and medieval architecture than for mosh pits and mayhem—Hrobar’s MŔTVY ŤAH is like receiving a high-voltage jolt from a faulty defibrillator after a lengthy cardio arrest, waking up the town and everything else sleeping nearby. This 19-minute, 19-track blitz of metal, crossover, and thrash is the auditory equivalent of an energy drink overdose, injecting raw intensity that contrasts gloriously with the town’s laid-back atmosphere.

Hrobar (The Undertaker) wastes no time in setting the stage with Hrobar je najlepšia kapela na svete (Hrobar is the best band in the World), a self-assertive opener that’s as much a proclamation as it is a manifesto. At a mere one minute and sixteen seconds, the track blasts through with a distinct confidence that becomes a recurring theme across the album. In fact, this is one of the longer tracks; the majority speed by in under a minute. Even the band’s punchy, provocative titles are as relentless as the music itself, with tracks like Morálny kódex (Moral Code) and Tvoje telo nie je moja voľba (Your body isn’t my choice) challenging societal norms and personal boundaries with unapologetic attitude.



 

The album plays out like a barrage of metal vignettes, each track a short, sharp shock to the system. All of it is sung in Slovak (I think), yet it makes no difference. Songs like Prísny sused (Strict Neighbour) and Tichá domácnosť (Silent Household) capture everyday tensions, while Priemerný fanúšik Slayeru (Average Slayer Fan) offers a satirical jab at thrash culture itself. Hrobar balances critique with a playful edge, as heard in Kalorický kódex (Caloric Code) and Agresívny kontextuál vs. Hrobar pôžitkár (Aggressive Contextualist vs. Hrobar Hedonist), which feel almost absurdist, yet both tunes add depth to the band’s gritty worldview.

So how can I describe their sound best? Like this: Every track is an aggressive sprint to the finish line, punctuated by chugging riffs, frantic drums, and growling Slovak vocals. It’s like every track starts at 100mph many moments before the trigger on the starter pistol is pulled. The brevity of the songs—the majority clocking in around a minute—keeps listeners off balance as the album pulses forward like an uncontainable force. The raw energy peaks in Toto je Hrobar tu je tvoj hrob (This Is Hrobar, Here’s Your Grave), a roaring 1:24 culmination of the band’s ethos: direct, brutal, and darkly humorous.

Ironically, each track somehow brings something distinct, because it feels like the album leaves no room to breathe. It’s a relentless experience designed to hit hard and fast. Closing with Progresívna voda (Progressive Water), Hrobar caps off this meteoric journey without any intention of offering any resolution—just a final riff and a short lingering echo of distorted defiance.

And the Flork’s prognosis? MŔTVY ŤAH isn’t for the faint of heart, nor is it meant to be. But I like it all the same. In fact, it’s an explosive reminder that, even in the most picturesque settings, raw energy and unfiltered expression can find their place. After all, the town was built on the mining industry, and so it shouldn’t be any surprise for heavy underground music to surface. And much like their previous first full-length album, Hrobar delivers a collection of fast-paced compositions that are as chaotic as they are captivating. Definitely a „must-listen“ for anyone craving a fresh dose of thrash madness.

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