Paul Stephenson
What’s that? Oathbreaker performing one of the greatest albums ever recorded? Or Ronker, smashing the ever-loving crap out of the Yokhai stage only weeks after dropping a stonker of an album? Maybe it’s Psychonaut, delivering the second-best set of the weekend (we all know who was number one). We get it, Belgium, you’re good at bands. And yet, it’s not over yet, because here comes Hippotraktor, casually dropping a true album-of-the-year contender. It’s called Annihilist, and it’s a beast.
Let’s rewind a little. So far, this five-piece post-metal outfit has released two albums: 2021’s Meridian and 2024’s Stasis, both of which were very firmly in the ‘for fans of’ subset of albums; not quite reaching the dizzying heights of The Ocean, or many other of their Pelagic stablemates, but still a very lovely time. They trod a familiar post/prog metal path as, say, Psychonaut. That was understandable since they shared not just a country, not just a record label, but also a vocalist, Stefan de Graef; only this time he’s not playing guitar.
Having conquered many an album-of-the-year list last year with Psychonaut‘s World Maker, however, Stefan has obviously decided he’d quite like to repeat the trick, because, right from opener ‘I breathe, I am’, Hippotraktor signal that they, too, are taking a step into godly realms. The opening riff, bruising yet percussive, melodic and hypnotic in a way that makes you feel like you’re about to go over the lip on a rollercoaster, gives way to Stefan’s lush melodies, which wrap around an echoing, rhythmic drum pattern before the whole thing coalesces back into a chorus that can only be described as ‘fuck off great big’. It’s colossal, the kind of statement that can’t help but set a band up for failure, right?
Except, no. It might even be the weakest song on the album, even if that’s a bit like coming last at a World’s Strongest Man contest. You can still lift a car, and the rest of us can’t. Second track ‘Courageous Apathy’ starts with a staccato riff that opens out into an ethereal melody so delicate you’ll find yourself forgetting to breathe, showing that they’ve both kept the technicality of their debut and expanded on the grandiosity of its follow-up. By the time the final, pummelling groove kicks in, underpinned by a choral note that wouldn’t sound out of place on an Igorrr track, you can’t help but wonder at the sheer breadth of what Hippotraktor have pulled off.
‘Builder of Eden’ brings a heavy, almost industrial groove that spins out into something cosmic, circling both in turn until entwining them into an orgasmic crescendo. ‘Oblivion Walker’, the most Psychonaut-y track of the album, takes you on a bouncy little joyride through the stars, before bringing things back down into an almost-beatdown that calls to mind Hulk throwing Loki around like a rag doll.
It’s on the title track where we truly get to understand what we have here. A sparse, polyrhythmic drum pattern picks an argument with the guitars before each finds agreement in a chorus so anthemic that it can’t help but bring to mind that Californian band’s truly epic moments. You know, the ones from a few decades back. Then it hits home; progressive metal, art metal, whatever you want to call it, has spent decades circling the legacy of a band who long ago gave up any pretence of finding their way back to it. Of course, many bands have found greatness in taking that blueprint in new directions, but nobody has taken that route to its logical conclusion. Until now.
Across seven tracks and thirty-eight minutes, Hippotraktor’s third album delivers a marvel. Technically dazzling without ever being wanky, spiritual without being trite, and with melodies that make the air catch in your throat; Annihilist shoots for the stars and makes it all the way out there. Subtle, intense, aching, it’s a band stepping forward and saying ‘give me that goddamned mantle.’ At the very least, it should see them shake off the tag of ‘for fans of’ once and for all. It’s for fans of fucking Hippotraktor.