For a band getting as much crossover attention as they do, locals High on Fire have remained staunchly, unapologetically metal over the years. If anything, their music gets more barbaric and sunlight-deprived with each album. The Steve Albini-engineered Blessed Black Wings is their third, and continues their trend toward evolution by devolution (or "Devilution," as the opening track's title puts it). Seventies retreads they're not, however. Anyone who still claims High on Fire sound like Black Sabbath is either lazy – clinging to memories of guitarist-vocalist Matt Pike's old band, Sleep – or deaf, possibly as a result of attending too many High on Fire concerts. Indeed, HoF shows can be punishing experiences, not just due to the loud guitar amps but also because of drummer Des Kensel's relentless, almost tribal percussion onslaught, which borders on being oppressive when you're not in the right frame of mind. The same could be said of their recordings, but at least you have the option of adjusting the volume, or else going straight to the hit song and playing it over and over. On their debut it was "10,000 Years"; on Surrounded by Thieves it was "Razor Hoof"; and here it's the title track, seven-plus minutes of dank, dense Celtic Frost-meets-the Melvins riffage, topped off with vocals so hoarse they make Lemmy sound like a choirboy. (Will York)

Prismatics
Modulust (Birds Go South)

Prismatics, the latest incarnation of Joe Campbell and Mike Shoun's experimental tandem, recorded their debut album, Modulust, almost entirely from a live performance at Tiny Telephone studios. Unlike many ambient albums that require work and patience from listeners who aren't necessarily fans of the genre, Modulust builds an absorbing tension right from the start. As the album progresses, the sonic narrative morphs with expert precision and holds your hand until you're able to explore on your own. The simplistic drum machine takes on an ironic tone as the framework for a complicated and tightly sculpted sound. Songs build slowly, knowing just when to pull back and when to punch. Modulust is the sound of cracked sandstone planets with Armageddon trees and radiant, desolate storms, the soundtrack to the birth of stars and black holes. Modulust is not to be played at parties. It's a personal escape to a spacey mosaic of memories that Prismatics cull to the surface of your subconscious. Unfortunately, the title track (the finale) shatters the previously well-crafted mystique by an incongruous jump of noise, but with a run time of more than an hour, there is still plenty of solid material. (Keith Axline)

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