Helmet
Left

Yesterday afternoon, coming home from the hike at the gates of Valgrande above Verbania, I wanted to listen to the new album by Page Hamilton and his Helmet released on November 11th. I thought to myself: "given the duration just over 30 minutes, it will keep me company almost all the way to my Domodossola." And so it was, and I must say, not without surprise, that it is not as bad as I actually expected, having already read some harsh reviews online.

With each new listen, things improve!

Apart from a couple of episodes at the end of the album that didn't convince me, quite the opposite, and which, if I were in my friend Page's shoes, I would have done without!

It is clear that we have to forget the WHITE NOISE, squared and brutal, of the first two monumental works of the nineties: I believe I can state with the utmost confidence that no one demands this. Page turned 63 in May, and a forceful return to that Hardcore-Noise-Alternative-Metal that taught hundreds of bands (I refer to Deftones and Korn as eloquent examples) would be utterly ridiculous. It would make no sense, let me add.

Eleven tracks, many of which are under three minutes in length. Excellent production and sounds that highlight all the instruments in a balanced manner, from the two interacting guitars to the rhythm section that ensures, in at least five songs, that authentic steel propellant that is our trademark, with full certification.

The decisive armored and roaring Power-Pop of the duo "Holiday" and "Gun Fluf" (already released as singles in recent weeks) opens Left. Upbeat rhythms, catchy choruses, Page's voice trying to scratch like in the good old days, precise and fitting guitar solos: we are close to the sound of Betty, work from 1994.

As things progress, they remain good and promising: stop and go scattered throughout the tracks, a drum with syncopated remnants trying to evoke the glorious past; everything flows smoothly. Certainly, I wouldn't proclaim a hearing miracle, but at least until "Dislocated," the listening remains convincing, except for some empty and mawkish parts like at the beginning of "Make-Up," which recovers at the end with a deadly brief noisy, distorted, torn guitar solo.

As already written in yesterday's listening, even if I got the title wrong, things change towards the end, with particular reference to "Tell Me Again," where acoustic instruments appear and I seem to hear the more rustic and bucolic Motorpsycho of Demon Box; which wouldn’t necessarily be bad, but we are talking about Helmet for heaven's sake.

The closing is entrusted to the short "Resolution," where Page reminds the listener of his Jazz beginnings at the start of his career.

In conclusion, taking into account the unconditional affection I have felt for Mr. Hamilton for decades, a more than sufficient return.

The band will play next November 27th at the legendary Bloom in Mezzago: at this point, I am curious to see Helmet in action again, it would be the third time, hoping for the performance of time-bombs from the remote past and also the new pieces which, in my opinion, can gain power and dynamism live.

Ad Maiora.