6 Songs, 37 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

Dinosaur Jr.’s J Mascis claims that Heavy Blanket is a trio of himself and two old high school friends who first tried to record together in 1983 and only recently reunited. Fans of Mascis’ fret-frying guitar work won't be disappointed by these sprawling instrumental jams. Heavy Blanket backs up his ferocious axemanship with thick, serpentine bass lines and trudging-yet-nimble drumming, conjuring flashbacks of Blue Cheer, Sir Lord Baltimore, and similar purveyors of proto-metal. Amid the snarling rumble of “Galloping Toward the Unknown” and “Dr. Marten’s Blues,” a keen (if twisted) intelligence can be heard, probing the outer edge of coherency with fierce, primal soloing. The molten crawl of “Spit in the Eye” and the mutated bluesiness of “Blockheads” recapture the ‘70s heyday of stoner rock and seethe with an intensity that knows no era. “No Telling No Trails” wraps up the album with waves of hellacious distortion, at once doomy and exhilarating.

EDITORS’ NOTES

Dinosaur Jr.’s J Mascis claims that Heavy Blanket is a trio of himself and two old high school friends who first tried to record together in 1983 and only recently reunited. Fans of Mascis’ fret-frying guitar work won't be disappointed by these sprawling instrumental jams. Heavy Blanket backs up his ferocious axemanship with thick, serpentine bass lines and trudging-yet-nimble drumming, conjuring flashbacks of Blue Cheer, Sir Lord Baltimore, and similar purveyors of proto-metal. Amid the snarling rumble of “Galloping Toward the Unknown” and “Dr. Marten’s Blues,” a keen (if twisted) intelligence can be heard, probing the outer edge of coherency with fierce, primal soloing. The molten crawl of “Spit in the Eye” and the mutated bluesiness of “Blockheads” recapture the ‘70s heyday of stoner rock and seethe with an intensity that knows no era. “No Telling No Trails” wraps up the album with waves of hellacious distortion, at once doomy and exhilarating.

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