The Hunters – Promises

I can’t think of any classic post-hardcore releases from the Union Label Group off the top of my head.  Ask me for some ska and I’ll rattle off a legacy of formidable acts from affiliate Stomp Records, but that’s about it.  So you can understand my surprise when I find myself holding something like The Hunters’ debut full length and find the label’s tag on the back.  I asked myself, “what could the talent scouts at Union 2112 know about scoping out post-hardcore?”  Well, after an early spin of the Quebec City four-piece’s new disc, apparently quite a good bit.

The band’s sophomore effort runs under the title Promises, and on that note it fulfills quite a few.  Like all good post-hardcore acts the band plays a slightly awry set in a constant state of sonic evolution.  “01/01/11” might draw early resemblance to Taking Back Sunday, but by album end a good number of unlikely bands wormed their way to the tip of my tongue – for instance Rise Against and Look Mexico as an unlikely pairing.

Promises progression stems from each track’s highly targeted outcome.  “Faux-Fire, Faux-Gold” roars open after a delicate introduction, erupting into a sharp sense of guitar-play, essentially cutting the silence and accenting the urgency and emotional turmoil of Dominic Pelletier’s pleas for “innocence and bliss.”  More pressing than Brand New in upswing, the song evokes the form of an ephemeral thought, insistently emerging from fear only to fade from the fore when the next misgiving makes itself known.  Minor accompaniments result in large-scale distinctions as per the insignificant stature of some 90’s indie inspired notes forced alongside a sea of gang vocals in “Van Party Forever.”  Likewise, the brief presence of a harmonica during “Canicule” serves its brief purpose well.

The band also infuses a keen insight along with each sympathetic note.  “Last Stop: Cancer” matches a newfound sense of mortality with a powerful sense of appreciation for that which was once ignored, while “Sparrows” explores adoration in the mundane through the chorus “I hate fall, but I love the colours.”  And when the band proves their quiet side in songs like “Maritine Blues” and the album splitting instrumental “Blind River,” the message bellows loud in moments of silence.

If the album has one weakness it’s that the disc is more of a grower than an instant hit.  It’s easy to jump into, but takes a while longer to appreciate the full scope of the group’s vision.  Still, like all good relationships, the more quality time spent together, the deeper the bond, which I hardly consider a pitfall.

In “Van Party Forever” the band urges listeners to take pride in their successes regardless of size, and while The Hunters remain largely a product of the underground they should be proud of their creation.  Without a disappointing song on the record, Promises plays as a whole and makes for a commendable post-hardcore experience.  The Hunters are certainly one of the more instrumentally active bands amongst their peers, and that makes them well worth checking out.