Grand Magus - The Hunt (2LP) - Silver Vinyl

Grand Magus hit a special stride on The Hunt, the Swedish trio’s sixth full-length, released in late May 2012 on Nuclear Blast. It arrived with two quiet but important shifts for the band. First, a label change that put them squarely in the same stable as a lot of European heavy lifers. Second, a new drummer, Ludwig Witt, whose swing and energy lock in perfectly with Fox Skinner’s bass, giving JB Christoffersson all the room he needs to unfurl those granite riffs and that rich, chesty voice. If you’d been following them from the doom-leaning early records through the rallying power of Hammer of the North, this one felt like the moment they became a pure, steel-on-steel heavy metal band.

Part of the record’s pull is how confidently it plants both feet in tradition without sounding like a costume. The tempos snap, the guitars bite, and there’s that unmistakable Bathory-meets-Priest spirit that Grand Magus have carried for years. JB’s phrasing sits somewhere between storyteller and town crier, with melodies that stick after a single chorus. Witt’s kit sounds alive, toms knocking like distant thunder, cymbals riding out into the room. Nothing here tries to out-clever the songs. It’s hook, heft, and heart.

“Starlight Slaughter” sets the tone with a gallop that hints at NWOBHM but lands with a modern weight. The chorus punches straight through, the kind of chant you end up half-shouting while you cook dinner. “Valhalla Rising” takes the opposite route, a mid-tempo stride with a riff that feels ancient and inevitable, the hymn for raising a horn with friends after a long week. Nuclear Blast pushed that track hard for good reason, and it became the gateway song for a lot of new listeners in 2012.

Witt’s arrival really shows on “Storm King,” where the snare accents and ride patterns give the riff extra teeth, and the band surges together like a single engine. Then there’s “Son of the Last Breath,” the album’s slow-burn centerpiece, where Grand Magus lean into atmosphere. The build is patient, the payoff feels earned, and JB’s vocal sits right at the edge of the firelight, equal parts warmth and warning. The title track is compact and tough, all business, another reminder that the trio know exactly when to trim the fat.

What keeps me coming back is the way the record sounds like three people in a room, committing the take. The guitars have a chewy midrange that loves to wrestle with a good needle, and the bass never fades to a blur. On CD or streaming it hits hard, but The Hunt vinyl does the album an extra favor, opening up the drums and letting the guitars breathe. If you collect Grand Magus vinyl, you already know how well their art and aesthetic translate on a 12-inch sleeve, and this one is no exception. For anyone about to buy Grand Magus records online, check pressing notes, since different runs can vary in weight and color, but the core experience here is consistent and rewarding.

The Hunt also lands in a sweet spot in their catalog. It keeps the proud, mythic tone that would bloom even bigger on Triumph and Power, but it still carries the grit from the earlier days. You can hear echoes of Manowar in the anthemic choruses, sure, yet the writing has a Scandinavian backbone that’s more stoic than theatrical. It’s music for grey skies and stubborn hearts.

Critical chatter at the time called out the band’s unpretentious focus on songs, and that holds up. There’s no filler here, just different shades of the same alloy, polished to a shine but never buffed smooth. If you’re crate digging and spot The Hunt in the wild, grab it. For folks browsing Grand Magus albums on vinyl from a couch in Sydney or poking around vinyl records Australia listings, it’s one of the easiest entry points into their world, a record that makes sense whether you’re a doom kid, a trad head, or just someone who wants riffs that feel like they were forged, not faked.

In a catalog with no real missteps, The Hunt remains a keeper. It’s the sound of a band tightening the screws, sharpening the blade, and stepping out of the woods with purpose.