The genius of Lightning Bolt is that beneath the shock and awe assault on the auditory senses, there lies levels of subtlety and genuine musical composition. The pounding intro of "Sound Guardians" heralds an imminent explosion, which hits the speakers like a flaming oil tanker moments later. The gut wrenching introduction makes up for lost time, bringing listeners up to speed after the four years since their last record, but then the two Brians chart out new musical territory. As the drums pummel and the guitar grates and shreds, Brian Chippendale's vocals echo out into the ether, mixing with the haunting swirls of Brian Gibson's banjo-string-strung-bass, signaling a new sonic trajectory.

The meteorological import of the band's name takes on additional significance within the structure of Earthly Delights. The inevitable thunderclap hits so much harder after counting out slow Mississippis in anticipation, and Lightning Bolt excels at allowing the listener to catch their breath in the eye of the storm, only to pull them back out into the full fury of the hurricane moments later. On the plodding "Colossus," Chippendale's haunting vocals flit in and out as if they were being broadcast from some far off AM station while Gibson sounds out a lonely, scratchy scale before sinking into some deep doom. The heavy sludge is slower and denser than any of the rapid fire blitzkriegs of Bolt's previous releases, and as the titan track unfolds its relative calm lulls the listener into an uneasy daze. Though rough and wild by any other comparison, "Colossus" is practically a lullaby next to some of Lightning Bolt's previous ear gougers.

The melancholy edge and overall weight of Earthly Delights makes it feel like Lightning Bolt has fallen back to Earth after scaling 2005's manic opus, Hypermagic Mountain. Where that record built and climbed constantly, Earthly Delights is more content moving in a uniform trajectory. The landscape is vast and varied, shifting from thick rumbles and steady beats to screeching experimentation over helter skelter rhythmic apoplexy. "Flooded Chamber" is a perfect example of the latter, a track that feels lost within itself as it hiccups and flails wildly, desperately grasping for any sort of coherence. The raw amplified sound is there as always, but "Flooded Chamber" has a flavor decidedly more free jazz than full force. The song contorts and confronts just enough to alienate, then dissolves into the bouncy, stream lined, almost catchy "Funny Farm."

The power of Lightning Bolt lies in the staunch puritanism of their aesthetic and uncompromising potency of their sound. While other bands feel the need to gloss things up with eye liner, complicated drum kits, and morbid imagery, the Providence duo has stuck to Rhode Island's Protestant traditions and dispensed with superfluous accoutrements. The rawness of Lightning Bolt's rock could have easily pigeon holed them as hard and loud with no new ground left to tread, but Bolt has found ample room for experimentation within their blistering bass and drums framework. Hypermagic Mountain saw the group flying gloriously up towards the sun, and now Earthly Delights allows them to avoid Icarus' mistake, digging deep into the soil for another round of brain battering, geological rock.

Recommended Tracks: "Flooded Chamber," "Colossus," "Funny Farm"

-Devon Tincknell