Mogwai - The Hawk Is Howling (2LP) - White Vinyl

Mogwai’s The Hawk Is Howling landed in late September 2008, a UK release on Wall of Sound with a North American home at Matador, and it still feels like the band locking into a very specific mood and refusing to budge. It is their first album made entirely of instrumentals, which is funny to note given how rarely they lean on vocals anyway, but the all-in approach matters here. The music hangs together like one long night drive, city lights flickering on the windshield, volume creeping up by the mile.

They reunited with early collaborator Andy Miller for these sessions, a neat circle back to the Young Team era. You can hear that patience in the way “I’m Jim Morrison, I’m Dead” unspools. Piano draws the outline, guitars shade in the corners, then everything thickens until the room seems to tilt. It is an opening scene more than a song, and it sets the tone. Mogwai still do thunder, but the better trick here is how carefully they stack the quiet.

“Batcat” is the bulldozer that lets you know the amps are still alive. It lurches and grinds, a set-starter that became a fan favorite for good reason. The riff claws at the walls while Martin Bulloch’s drumming keeps the whole thing in a kind of swaggering order. The band doubled down around this period too, releasing a Batcat EP that featured a memorable side collaboration with Roky Erickson on “Devil Rides,” a nice flash of cross-generational weirdness even though it sits outside the album proper.

The real curveball is “The Sun Smells Too Loud,” one of Mogwai’s brightest moments. It bounces. Barry Burns’ synths feel like a window opening, and for a few minutes the band gives itself permission to be almost pop. Plenty of critics at the time latched onto that, seeing it as a counterweight to the pulverizing side of the record, and they were right. The contrast is the point. Move a little further in and you hit “I Love You, I’m Going To Blow Up Your School,” which carries a title built to stir debate, though the band has long said they do not traffic in that kind of intent. Musically it is slow dread, guitars breathing in and out while the rhythm section tightens the screws.

This is also a record that rewards attention to the middle. “Danphe and the Brain” and “Local Authority” have that Glasgow twilight to them, a blend of melancholy and stubborn hope that Mogwai basically patented. “Scotland’s Shame” does not rant. It just smolders, a low flame of a song that feels heavier with each repeat. Then there is “Thank You Space Expert,” a title that sounds like a private joke, wrapped around a stretch of weightless guitar drift that would fit neatly into a midnight radio set. By the time “The Precipice” closes things, the climb has been long, the view earned.

In 2008 the record found solid footing with listeners and writers who knew what they were in for. Reviews in places like The Guardian, NME, and Pitchfork all circled the same point. Mogwai were not reinventing themselves, but they were sharpening the difference between their extremes. If you love the way this band lets a melody glint for ten seconds then buries it under a landslide, you had plenty to hold onto.

As a piece of wax, The Hawk Is Howling vinyl is a lovely way to live inside these dynamics. The crescendos breathe, the hush takes up space, and you can ride the faders with your own volume knob. Crate diggers know the thrill of spotting Mogwai albums on vinyl, and this one always seems to call out from the bin. If you like the tactile ritual, it pairs well with a late evening and a room you do not share with light sleepers. I have seen this record make a casual listener stop mid-conversation and ask, what is this. That is the mark of an album worth owning.

If you are hunting around to buy Mogwai records online, you will find plenty of copies floating through reputable shops, and if you prefer walking into a Melbourne record store or browsing a site that ships vinyl records Australia wide, it is a reliable get. Mogwai vinyl tends to hold up over time, both in press quality and in the way it keeps revealing detail after the tenth play. The Hawk Is Howling may not be the loudest chapter in their story, but it is one of the most cohesive, and it still feels like a room you step into rather than a playlist you burn through.