Part of the growing and fertile Polish stoner rock scene, Satellite Beaver make no bones about their love for all that’s heavy on their most recent self-released demo Trip Outside Your Mind. The band formed in 2008 and are definitely still figuring out their sound, but like a lot of the nascent acts in and around Warsaw rock city, the four-piece display a genuine affection for the lineage of stoner and other riffy-type rock, and that goes a long way toward establishing their charm on the three-song release.

The title Trip Outside Your Mind might lead you to believe we’re going to be dealing with far-out space reverb psychedelia, 13-minute expansive songs that delve into Hawkwindian self-indulgence, but Satellite Beaver are more earthbound than that, rocking like Earthride or a half-speed High on Fire, the vocals of guitarist Simon the Beaver leading the arguments in favor of the comparison. On opener “Fat Man in Wellingtons,” he and his fellow Beavers (each member takes “The Beaver” as their last name) begin with about 45 seconds of noise before actually starting the song – a bold move on a release that’s only 15 and a half minutes total – but once they get going, the groove is palpable, the tones are thick and the vibe is stoned. Fellow guitarist/backing vocalist Tom the Beaver contributes to the heft of “Fat Man in Wellingtons” and the quicker “OD&D” with bassist Marian the Beaver and drummer Mad the Beaver proving more than capable of following the guitars wherever they may take the songs along whatever path they choose to get where they’re going.

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If the quizzical title Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic presents a twist for your brain (do they mean “phantom” as a verb, like you could turn Hell into a ghost of some kind?), then that’s just the beginning of the puzzles Italian trio Void Generator have to offer on their third release. Following a 2004 self-titled EP and 2006’s We Have Found the Space, Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic (Phonosphero Records) is four tracks and well over an hour of anti-gravitational psychedelic rock, the finest attribute of which might be its timing. The Roman four-piece (five if you count Bob the Rich on “accumulation,” which I think means “recording”) have an impeccable sense of when to rock and when to space out.

To wit, the memorable Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic opener, “Message from the Galactic Federation,” which manages to work both a catchy chorus and hyper-extended airy parts into its 15:14 length. My first time through, I waited the full three-plus minutes (not an unreasonable amount of time given the scale of the song) for the vocals to come on and ruin it, but guitarist Gianmarco Iantaffi didn’t disappoint, his delivery maintaining a balance between rough rock and melodic crooning that’s got just enough effects behind it to cut through the guitars, synth, bass and drums. Vocals aside, what sets Void Generator apart from the space rock hordes seems to be their willingness to rein in their jams, to bring them back to the songs, and where many bands seem to plow through their verses and choruses like they’re punching a clock waiting to get to the 10-minute go-nowhere jam – not always a bad thing, mind you – Void Generator remember they’re writing songs here, not just showing off or screwing around. “Message from the Galactic Federation” repeats parts at just the right times, and manages to remain what political pundits call “on point” for its duration. No small achievement.

If the opener sets the bar high, though, the rest of Phantom Hell and Soar Angelic delivers on its promise. The shortest track on the album, a mere 13:04, is “The Morning.” It’s more open-ended feeling than was the opener, but it’s also a show-off point for the rhythm section. Bassist Sonia Caporossi and drummer Marco Cenci (who plays on the latter tracks, while Marco Ricci played on the first) carry most the song, leaving Iantaffi and synth-specialist Cristiano Lodi to add flourishes and contribute to the gradual build, which they do in subtle, confident fashion. Toward the song’s end, Lodi’s work becomes especially apparent, and adds a soft melody to the driving rock behind it in the mix. As a setup for the ostensibly “final” cut, the wonderfully-named 18:12 overture, “The Eternaut,” it works immaculately and with considerable flow.

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Much as I love the city of Philadelphia — and I do; it’s the Wesley Snipes to NYC‘s Stephen Dorff — it’s a long way away. Nonetheless, for a lineup like Las Cruces and Iron Man, the trip is well worth it. And hey, I didn’t drive as far as Las Cruces, who are from San Antonio, and thus know what salsa should taste like. So it could be worse.

I was in no hurry to get to the Millcreek Tavern, since it was just the two bands on the bill and I knew the show would be running late. Las Cruces went on first, playing tracks off of their latest, Dusk, as well as older material and a new song called “Egypt” that I shouted from the crowd was a keeper. And it was. There wasn’t much of an audience — apparently some fest was happening down the street — but the loyal few enjoyed what the four-piece had to offer, myself included, and when they played “Wizard” and “Cocaine Wizard Woman” back-to-back, I felt like life was doing me a personal favor. Two songs with “wizard” in the title — in a row! Doesn’t get more doomed than that, folks.

In general I consider myself a fan of a singing drummer, and Paul DeLeon of Las Cruces didn’t disappoint. While guitarists George Trevino and Mando Tovar (Pillcrusher) poured out killer riffs and solos and bassist Jimmy Bell windmilled a breeze enough to feel it from in front of the stage, DeLeon held down the rhythm and the melody of material both old and new. Dusk is the band’s first full-length in 12 years, but the band and the songs sounded fresh and they put on a righteous show despite the fact that there weren’t too many people in the crowd to see it.

A chicken cheese steak was enjoyed in between sets — no onions — and I had plenty of time to eat, as Iron Man took their time getting going. Vocalist Joe Donnelly must have been running late, or else waiting outside to make his grand entrance, since he came in just before the set started. Bassist Louis Strachan and new drummer Mike Rix (who has about four more toms in his rack-mounted kit than he needs for doom) make for a killer rhythm section, and Donnelly‘s Ozzy-style antics are well documented and always good for a laugh, but the essential component in Iron Man is Al Morris III, whose sheer presence while he plays guitar makes the whole set. I managed to get video of the opener, “I Have Returned,” which you can see below. Watch his solo and you’ll see what I’m talking about. Amazing.

Iron Man played a new song as well. I didn’t catch the name of it, but it’s good to know they’re working on material for a follow-up to I Have Returned. They were selling the recent Shadow Kingdom reissues of Generation Void, Black Night and The Passage as well, though I don’t know how many people were there who didn’t already have them. They played an 11-song set, which seemed like a bit much, but although it’s three days later and my sleep pattern is still thrown off, I’m not going to say it wasn’t worth the time or effort to get to the show. It was all the more special because of the sparse attendance, and with Las Cruces having come so far, and Iron Man having made the trip from Maryland, it seemed the least I could do to show up. I guarantee whatever else was going on in town that night wasn’t as doomed out as this show was.

Adding to the argument in favor of attendance was not knowing when Las Cruces would be back this way. Iron Man is killer, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve already seen them this year and worse comes to worst, Maryland is only three hours away. San Antonio is a little farther out from Jersey, and since I enjoyed Dusk so much (even the tracks not about wizards of any shape or form), I wanted to be there to support the band. I don’t know if it did them any good in terms of getting gas money to get to the next show, but there you go. Should have been a couple local acts on the bill to round it out and fill up the place, should have been more people there, but it was a killer gig and easily justified the ride down. No complaints out of me.

In the spirit of the release, I’m going to try to keep this short:

Torche songs are so easy to get excited about, because they’re actually exciting. They’re upbeat, energetic, accessible, friendly-sounding even at their heaviest. I just popped their new offering, Songs for Singles in my player for the first time, and already, I want to hang out with it. I want to sit with it and have a beer and watch the bug zapper. Eight songs in under 22 minutes isn’t the kind of numbers I usually get down with, but man, Torche kick ass with twice the efficiency of most bands.

What I like most immediately about Songs for Singles is that the first six tracks comprise half the listening time, and the last two make up the final 10-plus minutes. You’re through “U.F.O.” before you know it, and “Lay Low” is only 51 seconds long, so that’s barely started before it’s done, but “Shine on My Old Ways” seems to change the pace, and by the time “Face the Wall” comes on, you feel like you just hit it. The wall, that is.

If you dug the dreamy pop aspects of Meanderthal, you’re probably also going to drool over Songs for Singles, as even on the slower “Face the Wall” and six-minute capper “Out Again,” that element of their sound is a constant. There aren’t any über-heavy guitar bombs, and as “Out Again” stretches the instrumental section that gradually fades to close the record, it’s apparent that what Torche like playing with in their sound is the sometimes massive, sometimes sweet contrast. Right now, they’re doing it better than anyone else.

Right from the opening track, “Flustrated,” it’s clear Dali’s Llama are having fun with their latest offering, Howl Do You Do? (released through their own Dali’s Llama Records). Maybe after eight records of straight up desert rock, the Zach Huskey-led Palm Springs, California, outfit decided it was time to try something else – and who could blame them for that? They’ve been kicking out fuzzy jams with such regularity that the routine was bound to wear them down, so a turn to garage rock and horror punk is probably just what the band needed to shake things up. A lot of their bluesy core is still in tact, but if all you know of Dali’s Llama is what they’ve done the last several years – records like Sweet Sludge, Full on Dunes and Raw is Real – Howl Do You Do? is bound to be something of a surprise.

The organ features heavily on songs like “She’s My Halloween” and “Flash Flood, Flash Flood,” played by Mikael Jacobson, who joins Zach, bassist Erica Huskey, guitarist Joe Dillon and drummer Craig Brown (all of whom also contribute backing vocals), but I tend to return more to the piano-laced sounds of the title track, which has a more blues-driven feel to it than the camp spookiness of the horror punk material. Just a personal preference. Huskey’s songwriting, probably the central driving force within Dali’s Llama, is strong as ever, though it should be noted the structures of the songs haven’t really changed so much from the band’s last couple full-lengths, just the genre play. It’s like Dali’s Llama have put on a costume – a Halloween costume, appropriately enough. Underneath, they’re still who they are, but they’re playing the part of a garage horror punk band for an album. Howl Do You Do? was probably a lot of fun to make.

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Los Angeles-based double-guitar five-piece Night Horse treat classic rock like it’s a pretty lady. They take it out do a nice dinner, they hold the door, they pick up the tab, maybe they go to a show afterwards, and all the while they’re perfectly charming. Of course, sweet love is later made, and the end result is the band’s second album for Tee Pee Records, Perdition Hymns, which is 11 tracks of high-grade rock and roll genetics that, listening through, I’m honestly surprised didn’t come out on Small Stone. Where Tee Pee has mostly diverted into the heavy psych realm — bands like Quest for Fire, Naam, Earthless, etc. – Night Horse seem more suited to accompany the likes of Sasquatch, the recently-reviewed Red Giant, Gozu and perhaps most of all Sun Gods in Exile, whose 2009 album Black Light, White Lines, was equally shy about showing off its riff and solo prowess. And by that I mean not at all.

But there’s a Tee Pee connection in that Night Horse guitarist Justin Maranga also plays in Ancestors, so there you go, mystery solved. And honestly, after hearing the kind of blues-driven ‘70s jams Night Horse traffic in, I can’t imagine not wanting to put out a record like Perdition Hymns, no matter what sound you’re trying to associate your label with. Songs like the powerful opening trio of “Confess to Me,” “Angel Eyes” and “Rollin’ On” provide the kind of rock wallop you’d usually expect from an older bunch of dudes, but Night Horse’s love for what they do is evident. You can hear it in the playing of Maranga and fellow six-stringer Greg Buensuceso, in the straight-ahead rhythms of bassist Nick D’Itri and drummer Jamie Miller, and in the vocals of Sam James Velde, whose performance was also a highlight on Night Horse’s debut, The Dark Won’t Hide You, but is perhaps even stronger on Perdition Hymns, standing up with no trouble to the considerable instrumental competition provided by the band behind him.

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Four years have passed since Place of Skulls released The Black is Never Far, their third album, which was in many ways the culmination of a tumult that brought the band many changes, highs and lows. Guitarist/vocalist Victor Griffin — best known for his work in Pentagram contributing to the Maryland/D.C. doom legacy, though he actually lives in Knoxville, Tennessee these days – has always been at the helm, and that remains true as he brings together the original Place of Skulls trio for their new album, As a Dog Returns. Drummer Tim Tomaselli and bassist/vocalist Lee Abney have both been back in the band for a couple of years, replacing the likes of Pete Campbell (Sixty Watt Shaman) and Dennis Cornelius (ex-Revelation), but As a Dog Returns marks the first studio output the trio has released since Southern Lord put out Nailed in 2001.

And for those who haven’t heard Place of Skulls since then, or for those who perhaps are stuck on 2003’s epic With Vision — on which Griffin united with Scott “Wino” Weinrich (The Obsessed, Saint Vitus, etc.) to release one of the finest traditional doom albums of its decade – you should know a lot has changed. Of course, Griffin is still a master riffer. He has been since the days of Death Row, but sound-wise, Place of Skulls is a much different band than they were nine, seven or even four years ago. In 2010, their sound is still rooted in doom, but as the lead songwriter, Griffin doesn’t shy away from balladry either. The third track on As a Dog Returns, “Though He Slay Me,” is essentially a power ballad about Jesus, and the follow-up, the “Planet Caravan”-esque “Psalm,” isn’t far off that either, at least for the first two and a half minutes. It shouldn’t be much of a surprise that after a career touching five decades (Death Row formed in 1979) Griffin’s songwriting should have matured, but the doom on As a Dog Returns isn’t miserable, isn’t downtrodden. It seems to rise up to its challenges. It has hope.

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Red Giant’s first album in six years finds the Cleveland four-piece come down to earth. Where 2004’s Devil Child Blues — and even more so their earlier albums, Ultra Magnetic Glowing Sound and Psychoblaster and the Misuse of Power – was spacier, looser, more open, the newer output on Dysfunctional Majesty (their second offering through Small Stone) is tight, rigid, professional-sounding. The tracks are not given to exploration, but rather, follow the guitars right through to the kind of straightforward heavy groove rock that has become synonymous with Small Stone’s name the last several years.

You wouldn’t know it by their level of output, but Red Giant mark two decades of existence in 2010. On Dysfunctional Majesty, guitarist/vocalists Alex Perekrest and Damien Perry and bassist Brian Skinner (all three original members) are joined on drums by Eric Matthews (ex-Pro-Pain), and while it’s been a while since we’ve heard anything from Red Giant, the maturity of the band still shines through in contrast to Devil Child Blues. Nothing against that album – it rocked plenty hard and plenty fast – but Dysfunctional Majesty is a different level entirely. The ease with which Red Giant channels labelmates Dixie Witch on “Million Point Buck” and “It Doesn’t Seem Right” speaks to the level of consciousness in the songwriting. The woman-as-car metaphor on “Season of the Bitch” may be overdone and cliché, but at least Red Giant do it well and know it’s the riffs that really matter in driving the song home.

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With Earthride, those who know already know what they’re going to get. Hell, it’s the bands slogan: “Pure Maryland doom for the brotherhood of music,” and if there’s a more accurate for the style in which the four-piece traffics, I’ve yet to hear it. On their third album in eight years, Something Wicked (released through their own Earth Brain Records), Earthride reaffirms their status as one of the most positively toxic stoner doom bands the US has to offer. Led by charismatic frontman Dave Sherman (ex-Spirit Caravan, Wretched), they leave a mark that is unmistakably their own, as though the songs were branding a backpatch onto your forehead.

Groove is central on Something Wicked. In many ways it’s the whole core of Earthride’s sound. Guitarist Kyle Van Steinburg has a tone so Orange you can’t rhyme with it, and the rhythm section of drummer Eric Little and bassist Rob Hampshire (Nitroseed) do an excellent job rounding out the material and evoking an even thicker, more viscous sound on tracks like opener “Something Wicked” and “Hacksaw Eyeball.” This is nothing new, but not everything is business as usual for Earthride, as Something Wicked finds Sherman trying out some new approaches vocally – growling occasionally and seeming to collapse into a melodic kind of yowl not too distant from Wino or Phil Anselmo’s on the last Down album, but frankly, more suited to what Earthride are doing song-wise.

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I guess if there’s a three-year time span between recording your album and sending it out for review, you earn the right to call it Lazy. Such is the case with Poland’s Elvis Deluxe, who might be the most Swedish group of rockers Warsaw has ever produced. The old-school four-piece (vocals, guitar, bass, drums) are heavily indebted to the first couple Dozer records, and of course Kyuss is always a comparison point, but there are moments where their individuality flourishes, and in many ways, those are the strongest of the record.

Still, you tread dangerous ground calling an album Lazy, and fortunately for Elvis Deluxe, the songwriting isn’t. At its most derivative – parts of “Extraterrestrial Hideout Seeker” and “Sleep Brings No Relief” – the material is still well done, recorded smoothly and crafted with sincerity rather than mocking irony. A song like “Ready to Rage,” with its handclap-ready punkish snare hits, isn’t necessarily original, but at no point on the album do Elvis Deluxe seem like innovation is their first priority. Rather, Lazy, which was released in 2007 on Get by Records, vibes like a bunch of guys having a good time rocking out, and that’s exactly its appeal.

It doesn’t sound out of date for being a few years old, or at least no more than it means to. The stoner rock sound is built on homage, so although Dozer hasn’t sounded like this in a decade, it’s not like Elvis Deluxe’s sound is passé. Hell, I don’t know if it was ever “cool” to begin with. Who cares? It rocks.

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Released via Aurora Borealis in a limited edition of 1,000 copies, Conan’s thematic Horseback Battle Hammer is every bit as heavy as the title suggests. This kind of lumbering über-doom I like to call brown metal, because it rumbles so low you could shit your pants from the vibrations. Seriously, listening to the UK band’s EP – you might recall their Battle in the Swamp demo was on their MySpace not so long ago – is like having your head squashed by a boulder-wielding giant, and I’m not usually one for cheesy hyperbolic imagery, so you know Horseback Battle Hammer is heavy.

Conan, comprised of guitarist/vocalist Jon Davis, bassist/vocalist John McNulty and drummer Paul O’Neill, present four tracks on Horseback Battle Hammer, centering their work largely around the writings of Robert E. Howard. They’re true to their namesake, to say the least. Opener “Krull” is slow and devastating, reaching over nine minutes before offering any kind of major tempo shift or payoff. It’s a great opener for Horseback Battle Hammer, because it sets up a half-speed Melvins vibe that Conan build on with the speedier and more active “Satsumo.” You could say there’s a Torche influence, but what the two bands really have in common is a mega-thickness of guitar tone, and where Torche uses it as a go-to for heavy parts, Conan bases more or less the band’s whole sound around it. Davis’ guitar is monstrous, both when affecting the doomed pace of  “Krull” or the more middling speed of “Satsumo,” which at 5:32 is also the shortest song on Horseback Battle Hammer by nearly a full two minutes.

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Though between them they’ve spent years playing in bands like Human Remains, Cycle of Pain, Lord Sterling, The Atomic Bitchwax and The Ribeye Bros., drummer Bob Pantella and bassist Jim Baglino are probably best known at this point as the rhythm section of New Jersey stalwarts Monster Magnet. Likely that’s a job that comes packaged with a lot of ups and downs. You get to tour the world over and have a built-in high profile because of the band’s past success, but probably you don’t get to write much and there’s a lot of downtime. Hoping perhaps to make the most of that, Baglino and Pantella formed Riotgod a couple years back with guitarist Garrett Sweeny and vocalist Mark Sunshine. Their self-titled debut, in digipak/bonus track form, is out on Germany’s Metalville Records.

If you’ve been privy to Monster Magnet’s latest output, you at least have a basis for understanding where Riotgod’s Riotgod is coming from; they play a relatively straightforward (in terms of structure) brand of rock, not quite stoner, but definitely influenced by the heavy ‘70s and with some element of space to it, as the cover and tracks like “Light of the Sun” and “Collapsing Stars” would indicate. The material gets samey toward the album’s back half, but there is plenty of quality songwriting on display, and the production, while modern, isn’t nearly as flat as, say, the last Monster Magnet CD. Sunshine does a pretty good John Garcia on the Zeppelin-esque “The Time is Now,” and the chorus of “Collapsing Stars” proves to be a Riotgod high point, which is surprising for a semi-ballad amidst so many hard rockers, but led into by the atmospheric interlude “Omega,” it doesn’t feel out of place.

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I was surprised to learn The Kings of Frog Island were releasing the third installment of their purported trilogy, not because two years after II was so soon, but just because I haven’t yet finished listening to that album. Nonetheless comes III, released like 2005’s self-titled and the 2008 follow-up through Germany’s Elektrohasch Schallplatten and a further development of the UK outfit’s fuzz-laden style. At the center of the attack are vocalist/guitarists Mark Buteux and Mat Bethancourt (the latter ex-Josiah and current Dexter Jones Circus Orchestra) and drummer Roger “Dodge” Watson, though Gavin Searle adds vocals, Gregg Hunt plays bass and there are numerous guests throughout. The Kings of Frog Island are what early Desert Sessions jams might have been had they happened in London in the winter instead of, well, the desert.

The main comparison point for The Kings of Frog Island has always been Queens of the Stone Age, and that holds true on III. After the opening intro “In Memoriam,” on which a list of condemned is read out over beating drums, there comes “Glebe Street Whores,” which has shades of “Regular John” from the Queens of the Stone Age 1998 self-titled release in its insistent rhythm and catchy riff. The vocals come on strong, somewhat overblown, and seem to rest on top of the instruments in the mix rather than cut through them, which can make them seem loud. That comes up again later in the album, but if you can find just the right volume and adjust your equalizer to fill out the sound, it’s not an issue. One of III’s catchiest tracks, “Bride of Suicide,” follows “Glebe Street Whores,” and is pushed along at a good clip by steady snare hits from Watson and a good balance of cleaner and fuzz-soaked guitars over a long opening lead section. On first listen, III will sound like The Kings of Frog Island have abandoned some of the warmth of II, and maybe they have, I don’t know, but these songs are still plenty hairy.

There’s a sonic shift with “Dark on You,” on which the album begins to move slower, more deliberately, and with a moodier (and not surprisingly, given the title) darker feel. Longing takes the fore as the central emotion during the oft-repeated memorable chorus, and some lightly strummed guitar from either Buteux or Bethancourt – or maybe someone else, The Kings of Frog Island aren’t  exactly forthcoming with the credits – reminds that the band is up to more than simple stoner rock songwriting. That’s reinforced on “The Keeper Of…,” which is longer, more feedback-centric and reminiscent somewhat of II’s more meandering moments. The opening segment reminds me too of the intro to the title track of Los Natas’ Nuevo Orden de la Libertad, but that’s more likely sonic coincidence than anything else, and there’s certainly more to the track than its beginning; the open jam feels recorded live and added to, filled out, by later studio work, which is not a side III has yet shown.

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It’s a rare album whose choruses will have you singing along the first time. Usually you have to hear a song once or twice before you feel comfortable belting it out with the kind of reckless abandon you can only have in your car when you think no one is watching, but in the case of Smiling Dogs (Profound Lore), the first album from Man’s Gin, the solo project of Erik Wunder, also known as the Hemingway obsessed half of the black metal duo Cobalt. First time listening to the hyper-Jerry Cantrell-esque “The Death of Jimmy Sturgis,” it was as though I’d known the song all my life, and listening to it was like revisiting an old friend.

That’s par for the course to varying degrees for Smiling Dogs. What I take away most from my repeat sessions with the album is how Wunder managed to hide this innate songwriting ability in Cobalt, whose songs rely on more open structures and esoteric methods. Man’s Gin might be an overflow of the impulse to create, but whatever the case, it’s delivered soaked in passion, so that even as Wunder begins a song in his big boy deep singing voice, it’s not long before a track like closer “Doggamn” has him so psyched to play it that there’s a quick key change. That kind of thing happens a lot, and it only adds to the natural, genuinely organic vibe of Smiling Dogs. Colin Marston of Dysrhythmia, who recorded the album at his The Thousand Caves studio in Brooklyn – to which Wunder relocated prior to putting Man’s Gin together — is hardly known for this kind of thing, but damn if he doesn’t evoke a deep-hued, almost morose beauty in a memorable track like “Solid Gold Telephone.”

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Originally self-released in 2009 in an edition of 100 copies, The Dead’s Ritual Executions now sees an issue 10 times its original breadth thanks to Diabolical Conquest Records, the label imprint of the extreme metal e-zine of the same name. The Brisbane, Australia, trio’s second album, Ritual Executions was remastered by Aphotic Mote of Portal and is a skillful blend of death and doom metal that has enough stoner groove in its riffing to satisfy the one end, and guttural so-called “Cookie Monster” vocals that’d make George “Corpsegrinder” Fischer or Glen Benton proud. It’s not death/doom in the European tradition, which would imply a My Dying Bride or early Paradise Lost kind of pacing and drama, but a rougher take that sews American-style metallic extremity to traditional stonerisms.

Ritual Executions opens with “Burn Your Dead,” a sort of mission statement for the zombie-obsessed The Dead that reaches over eight minutes and culls the aforementioned elements as smoothly as I’ve heard it done. Guitarist/bassist Adam Keleher riffs Electric Wizard-style, but the context for those riffs comes with Mike Yee’s low growling and Chris Morse’s heavy-footed double-kick, so it’s not like anything Electric Wizard has ever done. As the album proceeds, tracks like “Cannibal Abattoir” and “Centurion” up the death metal level, and album centerpiece “Born in a Grave,” opens up with some blast beats, seeming to approach the stoner/death thing from the other end until it locks in a ‘90s-ish groove in its verses. Yee’s vocals are unipolar. He screams high every now and then, but it’s death metal all the way, which for a release like Ritual Executions, is probably how it should be. Crooning over riffs as dirty as Keleher’s wouldn’t work anyway.

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