Album Review: Hautsa by Loan – A Raw Journey Through Sludge and Post-Metal
Released in 2006, Hautsa by the Spanish band Loan is a gritty and uncompromising exploration of sludge metal and post-metal. Self-released under the "Not On Label" tag, this album doesn’t try to sugarcoat its intentions. It’s heavy, raw, and unapologetically intense—a true testament to the underground rock scene in Spain during that era. While it may not have the glossy production values of bigger-name releases, what it lacks in polish, it more than makes up for in sheer emotional weight.
The standout tracks here are Trena Badoa and Zainak Zulatzen. Let me tell ya, these two cuts hit hard. In Trena Badoa, the listener is immediately confronted with an avalanche of distorted guitars and pounding rhythms. The track builds slowly but deliberately, creating a suffocating atmosphere that feels almost ritualistic. About halfway through, there’s this moment where everything drops out except for a haunting feedback drone—it’s unsettling, yet oddly mesmerizing. You can feel the tension bubbling just beneath the surface before the chaos erupts again. Honestly, it sticks with you long after the song ends.
Then there’s Zainak Zulatzen, which takes things down a notch tempo-wise but amps up the melancholy factor. This one leans heavily into the post-metal side of Loan’s sound, blending ambient textures with crushing riffs. There’s something about how the vocals—growled and strained—are layered over those slow, grinding chords that feels profoundly cathartic. It’s like they’re dragging you through their own personal abyss, but somehow, it’s beautiful? Weird, right? But also kinda perfect.
Loan doesn’t reinvent the wheel here, but Hautsa doesn’t need to. Instead, it thrives on authenticity and emotion. Tracks like Amodio-Gorroto Kumeak and Orbainak Lepoan continue the theme of sonic brutality interspersed with moments of eerie calm. Each song flows into the next seamlessly, making the album feel less like a collection of individual tracks and more like one continuous piece of art.
What struck me most about Hautsa is how unrelenting it is without ever feeling exhausting. Sure, it’s heavy as hell, but there’s a strange beauty in its darkness. Listening to it feels like wandering through a desolate landscape—you know you shouldn’t stay too long, but you can’t help being drawn in.
In the end, Hautsa reminds us that music doesn’t always need to be polished or radio-friendly to leave a mark. Sometimes, all it needs to do is be honest—and damn, Loan nails that. Oddly enough, I found myself thinking about storms while listening to this album. Not because it’s chaotic, but because it has that same mix of power and quietude. Kinda poetic when you think about it.
