Oh thank Bog for White Hills. Our finest contemporary purveyors of life-in-a-capsule space rock have provided yet another.
The heavy freight train that is White Hills seems to stop for no man. It's not even been a full year since the release of the classic H-p1 and we now have a new epic space-rock document in the form of Frying on This Rock. This record is much more raw and blunt in its sound than H-p1; however, the songs seem very concise, very measured, and constructed with precision. The last song, "I Write A Thousand Letters (Pulp on Bone)," is over 13 minutes long and even it seems intricately planned and executed as it spirals and swirls into a precise cacophony. It sounds like chaos, but in the vein of free jazz, everything has its place and purpose. "Pads of Light" and "You Dream You See" are focused psychedelic space-rock assaults that perfectly represent what White Hills do best. And as the stand-out track, "Song of Everything" has heavy hitting 70's rock riffs and psych-noise infused into a big space rock sound.
Then comes the second half's odd but strangely appropriate spoken/chant vocals. It's not what you'd expect, but it works well within the constructs of this song. Frying On This Rock is a nice addition to the White Hills catalog. This record sees the band delivering their psychedelic space rock landscapes with a focus they have never demonstrated in the past. If you're new to White Hills or count yourself among their devoted following, be sure to track this one down.
-review from knoxroad.com
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