Boar God, Montreal’s self-proclaimed “ghost punk” trio (a combination of doom, shoegaze-stained noise, and droning psych in a dark soup), is back with Hunting Season, their first for the fledgling label Petit Village Records. Hunting Season continues Boar God’s foray into the lumbering and detonating sounds that all fall under the expanding umbrella of heavy music. While 2019’s Forma and the 2022 double-single EP Birthplace/Inside brought wells of dissonance, Boar God feels fully realized and renewed on Hunting Season. Minus founding guitarist and vocalist Eric Bent (who has been here since the beginning), it’s a new lineup, and the ideas feel fresh and explosive.
The riffs are thick as black tar molasses. The baritone vocals drift in forlorn, a voice calling from the bottom of a well. Sean Zumbusch’s bass sits on the ever-present low end, while Joseph Fiola’s drums lurch between tribal and thrashy. If you’re hungry for heavier fare, this is a feast.
“Crashing Waves” begins the gauntlet in typical Boar God fashion—a monolithic and thundering entity carving away at your ears while Bent’s hypnotic vocals chew the scenery. I’m reminded of early SWANS (Cop or Young God), with a little less violence. The title track is incredibly pessimistic, with the bleak and repetitive vocal line “Bad things happen / for no good reaaassson,” yet I’m still grooving, left head-banging in the inevitable fate we all unfortunately have to experience.
“Broken Clock Brain” is the closest we’ve heard to a garage rock Boar God. Chance Hutchison (Priors, Private Lives) takes the vocal lead, harmonizing in a “really high pitch” with Bent. I love the chaos of this track—a melodic, red guitar weaving and hulking through batshit drumming as the bass keeps everything from getting a little too lost. On double listens of this LP, “Ghost Speak” is still my favourite. It’s more spacey than its doomy cousins, a bit nebulous, but the rotating guitar work, hammer-ons, and some titanous bends, is stuff of legends. We’ve got the infectious doomgaze insturmental jam, kind of Hum meets Cloakroom. Just lines upon line to graviate towards again and again.
One last mention is the last track, “White Reindeer.” This eight-minute-and-change concoction fringes on post-rock territory with the terrifying vocal line and scream, “It knows where you are … where you’ve been.” What is “It?” I’m picturing a slow and colossal beast looming, antlers scraping the ceiling of the sky, no room for escape—the stuff of nightmares, or maybe it’s my crippling self-doubt. Who knows? At least we have the calming piano (Robyn Gray) to give us some reprieve. With Hunting Season, Boar God comes out of the woods clutching a ghost, and it’s still breathing down my neck.
