Album Review: Endless Boogie - Long Island

Neolithic slouch-rockers Endless Boogie have been lumbering around New York since '97, and given Long Island is only their third album in almost 15 years it's fair to say their cult status is not built on their reputation for hard work.

Long Island is a murky bayou of crusty circular blues riffs and tried 'n' true metal tropes slowed right the fuck down. It's a seething mass of half-baked solos, course rhythms and some of the creepiest growling you'll ever hear. It's like a fever-dream conversation between Iggy and Waits. By now they have a handle on their specific sound, a heady mix of psychedelia, stoner metal and kraut rock, and they aren't reaching for anything new (hell, they haven't really changed anything since 2008's Focus Level). Front(cave)man Paul 'Top Dollar' Major is in his 60s so I wager he's not about to start experimenting.

Opening cut The Savagist is an impressive 14-minute jam consisting of a multitude of meandering solos held together by a single hypnotic riff. Its drumming sways drunkenly under the pressure of the song's length, the tempo has trouble maintaining a consistent pace and the solos fray as the song goes on. By the end it's a series of brutish chord stabs and it's a marvellous thing to listen to it unravel and pull itself together again in ebbs and flows.

The remaining songs offer little in the way of variety and can't stand up against such an epic opener, but it's a great listen. Just wash your ears out when you're done.