The singer sounds like he’d be more at home fronting a hardcore band, but the rest of the band is remarkably well tied into their Southern-fried “thing.”
Yeah, they like their breakdowns and their Metal Zone pedals too much, but they copy the heavy-hitters with enough of their own conviction to make it work.
A corollary to some of the grits’n’grease doom bands from the DC area, although the recording is a bit tentative and it’s less “Southern” and more psychedelic.
Self-indulgent, non-linear, impossible to grasp, shapeshifting, and more of an expressionistic exercise than any kind of shared trip with the listener.