Out of the blue comes another band that escapes these eclectic ears. Being someone who ignores contemporary bands on the whole, save a few from the stoner rock, shoegaze, and revivalist hard psych/space rock camps, it is usually when they are presented to me, instead of earnestly foraging for anything new on my own that wild surprises come to light.

White Hills self-titled long player quickly drills a cavity into some untapped void of post-millennialism, swirling up a large dose of old world Yeti-stained, brain-basted, louder-then-God psychedelia and thus, creates a thirst for a few pints down at The Hall of the Mountain Grill. White Hills is a heavy, killer, tribalistic power trio, with really tough stuff coming head-on from behind the drum kit—a conflation of chops reminiscent of Keith Moon and Mitch Mitchell, he’s a killer so take heed.

The LP is a must sit for the entirety, as all makings of REAL albums should be approached when you know they’re crafted, rather than produced. In fact, I’d go a stretch further and suggest “FOR HEADPHONES ONLY,” while you reach for the dial with your kush-caked fingers turning it up to 11. Second cut, "Counting Sevens," passes for an homage of the Space Ritual we love so much, then breaks down into the LP’s probable hit single, “Three Quarters,” as it is pronounced by the indelible, arpeggiated stoner riffdom... There are long tracks, there’s deep snarling fuzz bass and gobs of shaggy guitar riffs abounding as the record heads into these cavernous head zones. Gargantuan ambiance, effected, a lone dog barking, NYC sirens are calling, space is deep, Moog, and fiddling with the German Underground Progressive and Experimental groups of late ’69 and early 70’s, i.e. Popol Vuh, Mythos, Gila, etc. Superb engineering gives these factors all of the love they deserve, I mean, it sounds great. Rather, this is a really great sounding record, anything less would be unjust.

The out-track, “Polvere Di Stelle,” features more drumming from another planet as it drones on like the approaching 2012 jaded humanity tragicomedy saga that just got a psychedelic anthem tattooed on its forehead while the choir sings to the choir, “leave this world behind, we are the sunshine…” This is a BIG little record, it is a killer record, don’t miss. Nice one, it all unfolds like a trip, and the come-down is the best part… [Thrill Jockey]

-C.R.N. Psychgeek

White Hills - White Hills


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