2014's saw the English rockers pounding out a mystic blast of bottom-heavy folk-rock that split the difference between "Immigrant Song"-era , the heavier side of , and the bug-eyed, progressive folk-rock outliers . The aptly named continues down that leafy, Wicker-Man-with-Marshall--stacks path, doubling down on the neo-pagan psych-metal with a knotty 12-track set that boasts some of the band's best material to date. The LP wastes little time in going for the jugular, delivering a pair of bluesy, wickedly fuzzed-out stadium fillers in "Ninth Night" and "Rhine Sagas," With each new album, have been steadily upping their game in the six-string department, and is no exception, with guitarists and unleashing torrents of nervy, reel-kissed riffage that consistently threads the needle between major and minor -- think at his most unhinged. Flush with enough lumbering behemoths of wah-pedal-driven bonfire metal to entice even the most ardent sludge and stoner fan, what sets apart from the crowd is their obvious love for the music of their fellow countrymen. Both "Kingfisher" and "Salts Mill," easily the most bucolic of the bunch, wouldn't have sounded out of place on 's , and the flange- and feedback-laden "Not Me Sir," with its Madchester backbeat, owes more to the than it does . That said, is an undeniably heavy bit of business, and if given time to work its magic, it will both infect and inspire. ~ James Christopher Monger