Never ones to slow down for too long, psychedelic space rockers White Hills deliver another blast of swirling, fuzzed-out sonic meditations on Frying On This Rock. Though it was recorded outside of the noise-friendly confines of Oneida's Ocropolis studios, the album's more compact and repetitive sound finds the band evoking the more Krautrock-inspired moments from "Sheets of Easter," with White Hills focusing more on building songs in a more careful, precise manner. This kind of tight, purposeful jamming is what keeps songs like "Robot Stomp" and "I Write a Thousand Letters (Pulp on Bone)" engrossing even as they push past the ten-minute mark. The real magic here, however, is that White Hills are able to keep their sound just loose enough so that even when things are repetitive, they seldom feel rigid or robotic. This combination of fluidity and structure makes Frying On This Rock an absorbing, headphone-centric listen that only demands that the listener turn up the volume and hand over control.
Frying on This Rock Review
by Gregory Heaney