Get the latest Syracuse news delivered right to your inbox.
Subscribe to our newsletter here.

One year removed from the excellent “Angel Numbers,” Scottish singer-songwriter Hamish Hawk incorporates elements of brooding goth rock and LGBTQ+ theatricality to produce his truly exceptional album, “A Firmer Hand.”

Released on Aug. 16, “A Firmer Hand” marks Hawk’s third full-length release with 12 tracks. Birthed out of leftovers from “Angel Numbers” that treaded darker subject matter, Hawk decided to construct an entire album around channeling that intensity, bringing in heavier material.

In an interview with Louder Than War, Hamish said after writing the first song for the album “Questionable Hit,” he “was struck by its attitude.” When he wrote the song, Hamish wondered if the people he wrote the song about would listen to it.

Hawk recapped his writing process, saying everything he puts into his songs correlates with his experiences. In “A Firmer Hand,” he challenged himself to differentiate from his past records and speak as poetically but plainly as possible.

This approach is noticeable from the start, even if Hawk’s standards for plain-spoken are low. It’s less about the usage of elaborate adjectives, but rather about the immediate emotional connections.

As early as “Machiavelli’s Room,” the instrumental palette is way heftier than your average singer-songwriter affair. The thrumming keys and thick basslines coat Hawk’s trademark baritone with a fleeting guitar solo in the background.

An uneasy sense is found across the album through compositions that, while catchy, often feel unresolved, as if the songs have secrets left unanswered. Examples of this are songs like “Autobiography of Spy” with its aimless pacing, the three-note pattern that guides the closer “The Hard Won” and the oddly-comedic spikes in “Big Cat Tattoos.”

The album reaches its peak when Hawk dives full-force into the energy of the post-punk scene. His sound is amplified in must-hears like “Nancy Dearest” and “Men Like Wire.”

But like most singer-songwriter projects, the focus is Hawk’s performance and writing. His huskier timbre carries the more reserved tracks on the album like opener “Juliet as Epitaph,” “Christopher St.” and “Milk an Ending,” contenting the melodrama.

Hawk nails the belting throughout the album as well. His desperate energy in the sixth track, “You Can Film Me,” compliments the soaring composition. Similarly, his stern but aggressive demeanor on “Men Like Wire” is one of the reasons the song works so effectively.

Paired with the impressive vocals, the lyrical content is what makes or breaks the album. Hawk’s writing is wickedly sharp as he seemingly searches around a void of darkness for answers and is also unusually accessible.

As to be expected from a more mature, theatrically inspired act with tracks like “Elvis Look-Alike Shadows” and “The Mauritian Badminton Doubles Champion, 1973,” Hawk can get a little overindulgent in his prose. This verbosity has always been more of a feature than a bug in previous albums, complimenting his grander style. Making the album more conversational, however, does wonders for its pacing and Hawk’s unique voice as a singer.

On a more general note, the open LGBTQ+ content in the album is always appreciated. This is especially true for songs where the relationship dynamics are more sexually forward like “Machiavelli’s Room” and “You Can Film Me.”

More importantly, though, is how Hawk frames himself and his agency in these scenes. He comes across as commanding in much of the music with a sonic backdrop. But there’s also a greater focus on what he wants and his tumultuous satisfaction.

Hawk’s vulnerability slowly breaks through the arrogant facades on tracks like “Men Like Wire” and the self-doubt of “Disingenuous.” This slow dropping of the mask on the back half of the project gives the somewhat disconnected “Questionable Hit” a real gut punch.

Similar to the past works of Porcupine Tree’s “Four Chords That Made a Million” and Gang of Youths’ “Returner,” Hawk centers his frustrations on the reality of being an artist and having to commodify pain and emotions into something profitable.

The emotion behind the music helps provide a compelling arc for the album, where his lack of control gets the better of him as he spirals out by the reflective closing “The Hard Won.” Listeners can feel Hawk’s mask slip away entirely and given the rest of the project, it’s a deserved moment.

Even without that narrative throughline, this project is truly sophisticated, goth-inspired magic that I expect will find a devoted audience. Hawk’s journey to a darker place may have left him worse for wear, but it was an experience I was glad to be dragged along for.

Published on November 5, 2024 at 11:48 pm

johinz@syr.edu