Heart Attack Man - Joyride The Pale Horse (2025) [Hi-Res]

Joyride The Pale Horse, the fourth album by Heart Attack Man, begins at the end. Or at least an imagined finale. Opening song One More Song combines a vivid sense of self-doubt and imposter syndrome with an equally primal dread about death and dying. It’s a ferocious start that sets the Cleveland trio’s modus operandi for what follows – which is to say, 30-ish minutes of dark thoughts soundtracked by gritty pop-punk.

The grittiness is important. In a genre that has so often celebrated mediocrity – and which, as a result, has spawned endless watered-down copycat after watered-down copycat – Heart Attack Man don’t just peddle anaemic dross. There are definite shades of Sum 41’s Fat Lip in One More Song, for instance but it there’s more throat, heavier riffs and it has its own identity. It’s also catchy as hell. Indeed, as the gloomy, ’90s-tinged ennui of Spit and the gloomy Lay Down And Die both prove, Heart Attack Man’s ability to combine musical and lyrical heaviness with a carefree poppiness is second to none.
The latter song is probably the best example here, but these 12 tracks bristle with that dichotomy throughout. Even when the band push the boundaries of the genre, as they do with Laughing Without Smiling and One Good Reason– two semi-spoken-word songs that recall now-defunct Brooklyn DIY punks Big Ups – that tension is there. It’s there, too, in Call Of The Void, a brutally direct song about confronting suicidal ideation. It’s only when you realise what you’re singing along too that the full weight of the song hits you, but that’s precisely why it’s so powerful.

Yet while the highlights on this album are great, and even though, remember, it’s only half an hour long, by the time Joyride The Pale Horse reaches its end, it struggles to maintain its momentum. The slower burn of I’ll See You There and the dark-punk stomp of Gallows are the biggest culprits, and though the record’s spark is briefly reignited by the vicious self-deprecation of Quit While I’m Still Ahead, the playful, power-pop whimsy of Joyride just feels anticlimactic. Given the beginning, that’s very ironic. Still, when this record shines, it’s very bright indeed.