Mastodon - Hushed And Grim (2LP) - Clear Vinyl

Mastodon have always treated heavy music like a big open map. Hushed and Grim is the band taking the long road through it, a sprawling double album from 2021 that digs into grief with patience, texture and a surprising amount of melody. Written in the shadow of the death of their longtime manager and friend Nick John, it feels like four players refusing to rush their way out of mourning, choosing instead to sit with it, turn it over, and find the odd glint of light in the cracks.

Recorded at the band’s own West End Sound in Atlanta with producer David Bottrill, who has steered cerebral heavies like Tool and King Crimson, the record sounds huge but never showy. You can hear the room, the air around Brann Dailor’s cymbals, the grit on Troy Sanders’ bass. Bottrill gives the guitars this crisp, interlocking bite that lets Bill Kelliher’s rhythm heft and Brent Hinds’ wild, lyrical leads live side by side without getting muddy. It suits a set that stretches close to an hour and a half, so the small choices matter.

The first thing you notice is how much singing there is, and how strong it is. Dailor opens proceedings with Pain With An Anchor, riding a tumbling drum pattern while his vocal carries a bright, almost proggy sadness. Pushing the Tides snaps the band back into taut, muscular mode, all staccato jabs and churn, and it was the right choice as a lead single. It even picked up a Grammy nomination for Best Metal Performance, which says a lot about how direct and immediate this material can be even when the record’s themes are heavy. Teardrinker leans into a big, melodic chorus in a way that would have seemed unlikely in their Remission era, and it works because the hooks feel earned, not bolted on.

Elsewhere the band stretch out. Skeleton of Splendor is patient and eerie, a slow unfurl of guitar figures that feels like wandering through a half-lit gallery. Sickle and Peace creeps rather than charges, with a chorus that haunts more than it hits. Dagger hints at electronic textures and a colder palette, a left turn that keeps the middle stretch from sagging. Savage Lands and The Crux give you that satisfying Mastodon gallop, but there is always a twist, a harmony line that shifts the colour just when you think you know where it is heading.

What holds it together is the emotional through line. The lyrics never become diary entries, yet you catch the ache everywhere, in the way voices stack up in weary harmonies or how a riff seems to strain for uplift and only half finds it. Had It All feels like the heart of the record, a stormy meditation that rises on guitar harmonies before dropping you into a quiet passage that says more with space than volume. Eyes of Serpents and closer Gigantium land the plane with a wide, thoughtful sweep, circling back to the album’s central idea, that loss never leaves, you just learn to live beside it.

The cover art by longtime collaborator Paul Romano adds another layer, all entwined roots and memorial symbols, and it comes alive on Hushed and Grim vinyl. This is one of those albums that rewards the size of the format, both for the art and for the way the tracklist breathes across four sides. If you have been trawling a Melbourne record store on a Saturday arvo or scrolling through vinyl records Australia listings at midnight, you will know Mastodon vinyl tends to vanish fast, and for good reason. When you buy Mastodon records online, this one should be near the top of the list. It is also a fine gateway if you are just starting to explore Mastodon albums on vinyl, because it shows the band’s full range without leaning too hard on concept tricks.

Critics picked up on all this at the time, with positive notices across The Guardian, Pitchfork and Rolling Stone. Fans did too, folding songs like Teardrinker and Pushing the Tides into setlists as communal singalongs, which is not something you would have predicted back when the band were writing knotty sludge epics about sailors and frost giants. What has not changed is the craft. Even at this length, the editing is sharp, the performances are locked, and the band still sound like the only people who could write these songs.

If you are on the hunt for Hushed and Grim vinyl, grab it when you see it. The music wants space, the artwork wants scale, and Mastodon remain one of the few modern metal bands who make the album feel like an event rather than a container. This one is built for long evenings and little discoveries, the sort of record that keeps paying out every time the needle drops.