Ughhhh, Chris is gonna be so mad at me about this.
Halestorm is a band I respect a lot. They’re the top of my list when it comes to ‘bands I saw live back when they were nobody.’ I first saw them in 2009 with a couple hundred other people. I wasn’t even there for them - I was there because a music promoter wanted me to check out The Veer Union, one of the opening bands. I stuck around to see what the headliner was all about, and I’ve been following Halestorm ever since.
I haven’t loved everything they’ve done, I’ll be honest. And that’s okay, they’re not writing albums for me, nor should they.
“Everest” is the first time though, when I’m wondering where this album is coming from, and what’s driving it.
It starts off promising enough - the lead cut, “Fallen Star” is, to my sensibilities, the best on the record and offers the best glimpse of Halestorm in their truest form. Lizzy Hale, rightfully so, gets the lion’s share of attention that comes Halestorm’s way, but there are three other very talented musicians making music on all their records, and this lead track is the one that best showcases the balance of all of them.
Skipping down a couple cuts, I want to address “Like a Woman Can.” Lzzy has always been willing to be more literal than most mainstream vocalists in her sexual allegory, which is to say there is rarely any allegory at all, and “Like a Woman Can” is no different. The song is strikingly seductive and sexually charged, which is refreshing as opposed to the clumsy, juvenile metaphors about cars or playing cards or whatever else that dumb, sweaty men tend to write. It is, in many ways, one of the album’s jewels.
But I’m a long-time media member, and that makes me cynical. It makes me constantly wonder about the ‘why’ and ‘how’ of a thing. Lzzy is publicly bisexual, so it’s not like the song is contrived or made up - it comes from a place of absolute authenticity. But here’s what I don’t want to happen. A thing can be manipulated to two purposes, and this song would no doubt be an easy sell to a horny, middle-aged, male-dominated rock audience. I am certain this song will be pushed, possibly by the label more than by Halestorm themselves, and what is meant to be an empowering female anthem could well be perverted to commercial or other nefarious ends. And that makes me cringe just a little as I listen to it.
And then we come to “Rain Your Blood On Me” and now I’m confused. In the middle there’s this whole thrash-y, big chorus, kinda Overkill-y section that’s cool and definitely grabs attention the first time you hear it, but some of that attention grabbing is because Halestorm has never really done THAT before. And there’s nothing wrong with the central riff that the song already had - it’s punchy and strong of its own volition, so the section in the middle feels air-dropped in, and out of place.
Then we come to a series of hair metal ballads, and they’re all, to me, indistinguishable from each other, except that they all remind me of that part in the “November Rain” video where Slash is playing guitar out in the desert and being filmed from a helicopter. Halestorm has always had this side to them, with varying degrees of success. All of these lean heavily into Lzzy’s vocal prowess, which is a safe bet as she remains one of the most impressively vibrant voices in modern rock, but this crop of ballads in particular feels very much like a throwback to an era that Halestorm was never a part of.
When I first saw the album track list, I was immediately nervous about “K-I-L-L-I-N-G.” I needn’t have been. This is an old school Halestorm thumper, something that would have felt perfectly at home on their first two albums, along with “Fallen Star.” It’s a stark reminder that the interplay of the band members, and the arrangement of the music, is of prominent importance in everything Halestorm does. Is it the highest form of Halestorm's art? Nah. But it's simple and fun.
The album closes with “How Will You Remember Me”...okay, let me reference what Chris said first. It’s well executed, and Lzzy shines on it. I agree with all that. On the other hand, the motif of ‘hey, remember when we were carefree and young and hung out drinkin’,’ has spent more time in the oven than a twice-baked potato, and makes a lazy appeal to the basest of sentimentality. There’s nothing wrong with being nostalgic for better days in and of itself, but I’m surprised that a band as lyrically provocative and accustomed to taking on complex issues as Halestorm couldn’t find a more creative or articulate way to say it.
“Everest” has a fair amount of likeable material, but there’s also some questionable decision-making. The band is allowed to experiment with whatever sounds and hallmarks they want, but in particular the reliance on the big rock ballad on the album’s second half feels a little forced and not like Halestorm at their best. Tread with caution.
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