Slip the surly bonds with Earthless

From The Ages by Earthless is another of those records that I became acquainted with too late for it to have made my top ten list. That's a shame because it deserves a place. Earthless are an instrumental power-trio from San Diego who occupy that middle ground between heavy rock and metal.  They have a very classic vibe. The guitar playing reminds me a lot of Jimi Hendrix and Robin Trower at his noisiest. Not so much in terms of skill, though guitarist Isaiah Mitchell is plenty good, but more in the psychedelic scene their music paints. The rhythm section of Marco Rubalcala and Mike Eginton provide the lumbering foundation for the guitar's histrionics. The occasional keyboard joins the ensemble and adds a new element to the music's mysteries.

It's another double LP (what's with these bands and their double LPs?). Four songs. One on side 1, two on side 2, and the title track spread over both sides of the second disc. This is a record that is comfortable both as the trippy background to whatever you're up to, but also, and far more enjoyable, as something you let wash over you. Doing that, however, is a real commitment, an investment of time that not many bands these days require from their audience. It's enjoyable because even though the songs are long, they still move. There is shape and nuance around the central theme. It lurks and spins and coils in of itself. It starts and stalls and gallops and rumbles into a conclusion. Repeated listens bring forth some new sonic experience. For a discerning rock fan, it's a treasure of musicality.

I can't leave without saying how awesome the album art is. One of the many reasons I love vinyl over CDs is the jackets. In a CD booklet, there isn't much space to appreciate the cover. With vinyl you can appreciate the effort made over the entire package. Opening the front gatefold you see lumbering elephants, emblematic of the music, with what appear to be jewels within their foreheads, crossing a stone bridge from an otherworldly door to meet, naturally, not only an enormous bird dominating the front cover but a shaman-esque humanoid whose head is eyeball. Of course he is dressed in robs and holds a scepter because...because that's what dudes with an eyeball for a head carry.

Here's album opener "Violence of the Red Sea."