For an outfit as prolific as New York’s White Hills, you’d think there would be a grave problem of quality control. Not at all. Their 13th full-length record since 2005 shows that they are still laying down track after track of thrillingly visceral psychedelia.
Much in the vein of 2011’s H-p1, this is guitar-led fuzz rock of the highest calibre, albeit with slightly shorter track lengths than that sprawling effort. There are pensive moments though, such as the lilting closing passage to the title track, that evoke the gauzier side of Hawkwind.
Meanwhile, The Internal Monologue is an extended soundscape that would be at home on a record by labelmates Barn Owl. Despite this, as of the second cut, In Your Room, it’s full-pelt motorik that’s on offer for the most part. Even when the amps aren’t at 11, the beats remain frenetic. Perhaps strangely, the strongest song is the closer, MIST (Winter). This one’s a deliciously complex mix of electronics, guitar drones and woozy drums that resolves into an intense mêlée before ebbing away completely.
It may be too self-indulgent for the uninitiated, but for those who follow White Hills, this is an excellent addition to their already vast and venerable discography.
