Mantar, a new duo from Hamburg, Germany, take plenty from the groovier aspects of 90s metal, but they don't quite feel like the bands they emulate. This lies not in the riffs, but how they're presented. They don't have the street vibe of Helmet or Prong, they're not interested in a Melvinsian sense of humor, and they're not imbued with Matt Pike's stoned majesty. Moreover, they sure as hell know they're not from Louisiana. Mantar have a seriousness about them, as evidenced on their debut album Death By Burning, cloaking their sounds in a darkness that make them downright vicious. They're a band who can claim the Jesus Lizard as an influence and still hang with the rosters of staunch metalists like Iron Bonehead or Hells Headbangers.
Mantar waste no time establishing their intent with lead-off cut “Spit”, going through chunky riffs that dance with a joker's mischievous, malevolent grin, and drums guided by Occam's Razor. You think it might fade out around 3:30, but not long after, guitarist Hanno Klänhardt and drummer Erinc Sakarya flex their muscles once again just to reiterate that they're not lighthearted about this endeavor. From mid-paced wrangles to doomy stops, nothing in this song feels wasted. Mantar picks up the pace on “Swinging the Eclipse” and “The Huntsmen” where they show off their tongue-lashing, hold-yer-axe-like-an-axe swagger. Even though this music sounds best in a narrow room, those songs hint at a band wanting to fill rooms as big as their ambitions.“White Nights” begins with Klänhardt exploring the lowest drones on his guitar, before going off into a Norwegian Second Wave tremolo jam. On Burning as a whole, but especially here, they bridge the gap between the mystical themes of the 80s underground and the back-to-Sabbath movement of the 90s.
Klänhardt's vocals are what really separates Mantar from the earlier bands they're pulling from. He's got a strained scream, not unlike Mike Williams giving it a go for a black metal band, that lends feeling to his anger—you don't necessarily need to deduce what he's saying. Melded with the sly catchiness of the riffs, Mantar offer a solution for listeners bored with conventional boogie doom, and who want some plod with a little In Solitude allure.
As mentioned earlier, Mantar may not share the Melvins' penchant for absurdity, but the similarities between them go beyond riffs. Klänhardt and Sakarya aren't quite kindred spirits like Buzz Osborne and Dale Crover, but they've already got the makings for a fruitful partnership. Burning is just the second item in their discography, following a 7” the band released themselves last year. The duo play as if they've known each other their whole lives, proving that chemistry can never be forced. Melvins fans joke about the band's constant rotation of bassists, even moreso in the light of the recent passing of Shirley Temple (her daughter Lori Black played with the Melvins in the late 80s and early 90s, mostly notably on 1991's Bullhead), but Mantar provides a vision of what would happen if Osborne and Crover ditched having a bassist altogether. Better yet, it suggests the possibility of Osborne absorbing Joe Preston and assimilating his low-end mastery. Just look at Burning's closing track, “March of the Crows”, which begins with a guitar drift not unlike “Hung Bunny” from 1992's Lysol, arguably the heaviest album in the Melvins' discography. Mantar shows a lot of promise in the short time they've been together, and truth be told, their heros will have to retire one day. Might as well look for a successor now—those estate battles get messy.
