For a while, space rock act White Hills was really going somewhere. Since its debut album in 2005, the Brooklyn duo has released 11 studio albums, including its most recent endeavor through Thrill Jockey Records, "Frying on this Rock."
Blending stoner metal and space rock, the band has quickly garnered a small but extremely dedicated fan base and became famous for its mind bending live shows. Still, since its self?titled 2010 release, White Hills has been getting progressively more mixed reviews as it deviates from its original sound.
Where White Hills once was defined by ambient, low key tracks like "PolverediStelle" and "Let the Right One In" on "White Hills" (2010), "Frying on the Rock" sees the band shifting toward a drastically new sound that lacks some of its hard?earned individuality.
Most alarming is that of the five tracks on the 44?minute "Frying on this Rock" only one is barely listenable. This would be less of a problem if the track in question wasn't only the second one on the album, and was the first to follow the short, bold opener, "Pads of Light." White Hills is right when it deems its new album higher energy than its previous work. Still, what it has gained for this change is questionable, as previous albums' rich texturing has been sacrificed for tracks like the never ending "Robot Stomp."
For twelve minutes, a minimally changing guitar and drum pairing throbs incessantly until enough effects - cuckoo clocks, violins and barely audible speech - are added that the song ends as a surprisingly melodic cacophony. It's an interesting concept to be sure, but it hardly deserves a quarter of the album. There's just not enough variety, and listener fatigue sets in quickly.
Luckily, "You Dream You See" grinds in immediately afterward. Bassist Ego Sensation bangs out a great bassline, and the guitar solo proves once again that guitarist Dave W. is usually better in the foreground.
Dave W. sounds a lot like Thurston Moore, which is weird, but it somehow works with the song's Black Sabbath?style trudging. From its aggressive beginning, the song transitions into the effects?heavypsychedelia that defined brilliant tracks like the title track on 2011's "H?p1" before a satisfying fade out.
The driving "Song of Everything" starts abruptly afterward and ups the ante. Though the lyrics are initially rather ho hum ("I know you know what it means to/ Spread your wings/ Spread your wings/ Fly away"), the song evolves section by section in standard post metal fashion before easing into a chilled?out interlude.
Psychedelic guitar doodles over a soundscape of minimalist effects and looped vocals fade in and out. Tidily, the song ends with a refrain of its beginning and spacy guitar effects that fade into the album's closer, "I Wrote a Thousand Letters (Pulp on Bone)."
For 14 minutes, the song grinds and evolves, calling to mind much of White Hills' earlier material. Its drum?drivenspaciness works as an almost?climax to "Frying," even as the fuzzed?out energy of "Letters" draws everything to a close.
The track's minimal variation makes it feel a bit too drawn out, but it works as a counterpoint to the throbbing, face?melting guitars at the album's start.
White Hills, though a relatively young band, has already covered an impressive amount of musical ground in its discography. The band's desire to continually and effectively evolve is understandable and quite admirable. Still, the most recent evolution efforts on "Frying on this Rock" made sound generic and rather adolescent.
White Hills is best when it is experimenting with ambience - not when propelled along by '80s power guitar. "Pads of Light," for example, is high voltage and definitely belongs at the beginning of an album, just not this White Hills album. White Hills' old, space?rock self is still very much present on "Frying," especially during the surreal interlude on "Song of Everything," but it's overshadowed by screaming guitars.
This may not be White Hills' best album, but history shows the band will probably release something new and different relatively soon. In the meantime, longtime White Hills fans should just hope "Frying's" often abrasive energy sounds better live.
