Black Mountain - 'In The Future' (Jagjaguwar) Released 21/01/08

Vancouver’s psych-rock juggernaut Black Mountain may well have had their collective tongue in cheek when picking the handle for this, their second full-length. Fuelled by the musky odours of vintage psych, metal and, yikes, prog from back in the day when musos subsisted on a diet of dope and sticking it to ‘the man’ alone, the cosmic vibes ‘In The Future’ emits may have sounded impossibly futuristic in, say, 1974. By now, however, these templates have become so archaic you’re tempted to double-check the date on the calendar.

Not that the five-piece has resorted to crafting a retro-minded homage to bygone titans of heavy-hitting riffage. As with Black Mountain’s ace 2004 debut, the references might be stuck firmly in the past, but the band’s superb skills in moulding something fresh and intoxicatingly forceful from oft-sampled sources remain. There are notable changes to the band’s agenda also. Although still recognisably the work of the same combo, ‘In The Future’ sounds like the Black Mountain of yore has undergone a tortuously strenuous workout programme under the auspices of the local gym’s most sadistically efficient muscle-trainer. The majestic melt of Black Sabbath-derived heaviness, Neil Young’s fragile intensity and the innerspace-surfing kosmische swoosh of mid-70’s Krautrock pioneers is still present, but everything is turned up to 11 and beyond, pumped up to maximum impact for full apocalyptic fervour.

The relentless barrage of opener ‘Stormy High’, for example, practically leaps out of the speakers, forcing the listener to pay attention and, unless your ears are filled with wax, bow down to the awe-inspiring oomph of a fine-tuned rock ‘n’ roll band at their peak. The drama-dribbling, minimalist ‘Queens Will Play’ cranks up the same urgency sans pounding beats. The hypnotic head-funk of ‘Wucan’, long-hair gospel ‘Wild Winds’ and the lowdown groove of ‘Angels’ opt for a more low-key approach with equally grand results, whilst the rollicking ‘Evil Ways’ is an endearingly hysteric 60’s heavy-psych genre exercise rooted in mock-demonic organ overdoses. Elsewhere, ‘In The Future’ displays a penchant for the kind of mellotron-powered opulence rarely encountered since unwieldy prog double-albums fell out of favour aeons ago. All of which is great news when it comes to the astonishing mixture of ferocious force, righteous anger and sorrowful, bucolic tenderness all nine minutes of ‘Tyrants’ is immersed in. The 17(!)-minute behemoth ‘Bright Lights’ is a trickier beast, reminiscent of the type of a bloated epic of a film that would be fantastic had the director agreed to chop out a fair bit of flab.

‘Stay Free’, however, wipes out any traces of occasional excesses. Floating on frontman Stephen McBean’s cloud-hopping, the gently strummed ode to, er, “beautiful ponies, so beautiful they’ll kill us all” provides ‘Wild Horses’-esque balm for ears battered from the bombardment in abundance elsewhere.