Few dudes understand the Eastern zen of heavy riffing more than Bobb Bruno. The man lives in a literal lair of black amps, black hair, and black metal, and only emerges to eat fried chicken or get wasted at Mika Miko shows. Blood Venus rages this yin/yang vibe to the speaker-shredding breaking point, alternating feedbacker obliteration with passages of complete tunnel-vision drone stasis. The rampant guitar slaughter is epicly complemented by Jeremy Villalobos’ iron hammer drum moves, which kick from stoner lopes to total crash attack, sometimes dropping out to peripheral cymbal shimmer, all in a sick split second. And you can truly hear it all, too, as the songs were tracked in the studio on serious two inch tape. Nine deafening epiphanies of black leather headbang war, somewhere between Sabbath, Sleep, and… qualuudes. Oh, and no vocals, cause they’re too metal for that shit. In jewel cases, with weird blood-tentacle squid-witch cover art.