Wolftooth

Valhalla RIPPLE

NWOBHM lives. In America.

Indiana’s Wolftooth return with their second dose of majestic late70s dope-metal, and if you’ve got that kinda itch, hot dog, do they deliver.

Wolftooth’s secret weapon is clearly the perfectly reedy throat of frontman Chris Sullivan. Sounding like some smooth and magical melange of Ozzy and Joe Walsh, he instantly drags you deep into the heart of radioready classic rock while the rest of the band pummels you with brilliantly hooky and impressively heavy NWOBHM. There is no way these dudes wouldn’t have filled stadiums in 1979 or 1983 or some other year much better than this one.

Lacking the taste for overindulgence that a lot of other stoner rock bands cherish, they eschew the 10-minute drone drills and just get on with it, instead laying down tight, meaty riff orgies like Firebreather, Molon Labe and the epic title track. Holy fuckin’ rock’n’roll, man. ■■■■■■■■■■ Sleazegrinder