In the three-year studio interim between
High on Fire's mighty
De Vermis Mysteriis and
Luminiferous, guitarist
Matt Pike has been a busy guy. Two volumes of live recordings appeared, and he and
OM bassist
Al Cisneros re-formed
Sleep (after decades off), made a record, and toured with
Jason Roeder from
Neurosis in the drum chair. One had to wonder whether any of
Sleep's stoner psychedelia would rub off when
HOF returned to recording. No worries.
Pike, with drummer
Des Kensel and bassist
Jeff Matz, adhere strictly to their sludgy, bruising, chugging brand of metal. Also returning is producer
Kurt Ballou, who helmed
De Vermis Mysteriis -- marking the first time that
HOF has used the same producer twice. The sound here is even more stripped-down, essential in its churn and burn. Check opener "The Black Plot" with the interplay of ever-ascending riffs and
Kensel's slamming tom-tom attack. The tag ends and bridges are classic
Pike, his voice roaring into the sonic maelstrom. The same goes for the thrash and burn aesthetic of "Slave the Hive," highlighted by the gang-chanted refrain. "The Sunless Years" is slower, but so rippled with potent, winding side riffs (and a killer lead guitar break) that the tempo itself becomes the catalyst for its bludgeoning force. The heated exchange between
Pike's massive riff on "The Dark Side of the Compass,"
Matz's distorted, fuzzed-out bassline, and
Kensel's kit work, which alternates between martial fills and hard-swinging time keeping, is equaled only by its sense of sprawl; the jam is wide open, cranking, with several distinct sections packed into its five-and-a-half-minute length, separated by sharp, melodic guitar breaks.
Pike's lyrics are drenched with terrestrial and extraterrestrial conspiracy theories, littered with references to mythology and arcane texts. His crazy conviction is never overstated, it's as matter of fact as it is passionate. One outlier on the set is the power ballad "The Cave,"
Pike's tale of his personal odyssey through addiction into sobriety, is harrowing but not preachy. His narrative is delivered through a bluesed-out narrative ripped at the seams with a roaring
Sabbath-esque riff that could have come from
Vol. IV. This is no mere confessional song, this is the tale of fighting with the beast unto the point of death. One reason that
High on Fire don't get accused of resting on their laurels is that they always come out hungry, anxious to refine their sound and remove anything that is not absolutely essential to their purposes.
Luminiferous accomplishes that as well. It is as fine, if not even better than,
De Vermis Mysteriis. ~ Thom Jurek