THE HU

Evolution is a wonderful thing. When THE HU first emerged from their Mongolian hideout back in 2019, there was every reason to infer that they were simply the latest internet phenomenon; an esoteric novelty act, ready-made for festival appearances, and an unexpected diversion from the usual Western metal monopoly. Seven years on, THE HU have more than proved themselves to be a serious proposition, with two excellent studio albums under their collective belt and a growing reputation for joyous live shows. Arriving on the back of recent support slots with the mighty IRON MAIDEN, "Hun" is a deliberate act of further integration, as THE HU further solidify their cross-cultural sound and inch ever closer to authentic mainstream acceptance. They are still pointedly exotic, at least to American and European ears, but a sense that they have morphed into genuine contenders, irrespective of their unique selling points, is hard to ignore.

The key to THE HU's steady rise to prominence has been their unerring ability to blur the boundaries between thunderous heavy metal and traditional Mongolian instrumentation and atmosphere. "Hun" hammers that hybrid home with even more conviction than on the previous two albums, with songs that hinge on meaty, mid-tempo riffing and the otherworldly aura that comes when heavy music and ancient folk music collide. It is an endlessly fascinating amalgam of ideas, and thanks to a seemingly big-budget production, everything is presented in glorious Technicolor. Songs like the opening "Warrior Chant" and the succinct and evocative "The Men" get the balance between triumphant bombast and eerie eccentricity just right, and on the galloping fury of "Horsemen", THE HU conjure a sublime facsimile of old-school metal that doubles as an inspired act of musical subversion. The songwriting may be simple, melodic and straightforward, but what the Mongolians pull off on "Hun" is far more layered and intricate than it first appears.

The biggest signs that THE HU are growing in strength and stature comes with the album's two great dynamic detours. The first, "Echoes of My Father" is a disarming campfire ballad with a robust melodic core and a languid gait that oozes serenity. The second, "Universe", is a grandiose, progressive sprawl, built from more light than shade, and awash with the enchanting sounds of the morin khuur, the tsuur, and several other instruments that I had to look up on Wikipedia. Frontman Galaa's vocals are rough hewn but irresistible, as he sidesteps away from his usual subsonic throat singing and delivers a performance of real tenderness and nobility. When THE HU slip into widescreen mode, the barriers between East and West simply vanish, and something more inclusive and universal appears in their place. Combined with the obvious fact that THE HU are one of the most resolutely charming bands ever to grace a stage anywhere in the world, these feverish adventures in cross-pollination and soulful contemplation are impossible to resist.

Although "Hun" is not perfect — a collaboration with NOTHING MORE's Jonny Hawkins feels a little labored and needlessly commercial, and one or two songs have a whiff of filler about them — it is easily this band's strongest record to date. Witnessing THE HU in the flesh should be the real goal, but this is an impressive representation of what they do, and a reliable alternative to just about everything else.