A Year of Music

It’s a good thing I didn’t know or forgot that Dead Meadow’s Howls from the Hills was a reissue, or I might have skipped picking it up. Somebody told me once that their old records suck, and like a chump I believed Andee. Somebody. Whoever it was who told me that who definitely wasn’t Andee. The lead singer has kind of a whiny voice, but not in a Doug Martsch way, and I’ve come to love Martsch’s voice anyway. These are some epic stoner jams here, sort of as if Black Sabbath and got together and recorded some jams with Bardo Pond at their most baked. The whole thing is very 1975. It’s not quite as space-rocking or as catchy as the more recent Dead Meadow albums, but their combination of midtempo sludge, fuzzed out guitars, and wah-wahed droning feedback is instantly recognizable. These guys are like comfort food for me. Now I gotta go pick up the other reissued old album and their live CD. I can’t believe I passed up the chance to see them live. Stupid tinnitus.