Boris - 'Smile' (Southern Lord) Released 21/04/08

Over the last couple of years, metal’s evolved from a much-maligned domain deemed suitable only for headbanging meatheads into an art form that’s equally capable of catering to the chin-stroking contingency. As one of the key bands responsible for this gradual evolution, Japanese monster trio Boris have seemingly decided to devote a sizable chunk of their new album to testing the metal allegiance of their hipster fans. Or at least it’s hard to think of another sensible rationale for including a handful of tracks that draw deep from the deepest well of daftness on the musical map – 1980’s speed metal.

Full of hoarse shrieking, comically hurried drumming and rhythm guitars that resemble sped-up sewing machines, you can almost picture the trio shaking their lanky hair in unison as another killer riff whizzes by like an armada of particularly deadly killer bees, even if Boris can’t quite match the irreverent glee Finnish kraut-metal combo Circle infuse the same references with.

It’s superbly amusing stuff, but when the three-piece can be persuaded to lower the tempo the results are simply sublime. Encountering a track called ‘Flower Sun Rain’ might make the listeners brace themselves for a mouldy slice of hippie piffle. The.phphalt-melting emissions of Ghost axe-shredder Michio Kurihara, whose feedback-encrusted, stratospheric raids on the upper end of the decibel scale – think of Neil Young on a mountain of steroids - made last year’s ‘Rainbow’ such an awe-inspiring treat, though, turns the PYG cover into an irresistible blend of fragile prettiness and herculean heaviness.

Even better is the untitled extended epic featuring another veteran Boris collaborator Stephen O’Malley of Sunn O))), a combo who’ve also worked hard to shake off metal’s idiotic reputation. Unlike so much unintentionally hilarious demonic posturing metal’s been burdened with, this ominous but strangely soothing drone opus sounds genuinely evil, with a melancholy melody that struggles to remain on the surface amidst a toxic swamp of ribcage-rattling reverberations lingering heavy like mist in Hades over the 16-minute proceeding.

As if evoking the decidedly bleak vibes of the netherworld wasn’t proof enough of serious intent, another bone-crunching Kurihara guest spot goes by the none-more-black title ‘My Neighbour Satan’. If Boris really do reside next door to the devil, ‘Smile’ proves Belzebub has no grounds for complaint when it comes to the quality of music drifting from next door, even if there might be the occasional issue with excessive levels of noise.