Let Spirits Ride

Tuesday night's double-bill of Black Mountain and the Black Angels at the Paradise Rock Club could have been easily dismissed by some as derivative '70s stoner rock. But that would be missing the point. After all, after 60 years or so, what rock band isn't derivative in some way? And sure, Black Mountain doles out heavy portions of Zep/Sabbath/Floyd-influenced tunes, while the Black Angels traffic in Velvet Underground-esque psychedelic drone-rock that wouldn't have been out of place in a hazy weed-filled club in 1974. Yet both acts bring an intensity to their music that takes the influences to another level.

This was my first show at the recently renovated Paradise, which seems roomier but isn't drastically different than it used to be. I'd seen both bands before: Black Mountain in 2008 at the Middle East upstairs and the Black Angels opening for Queens of the Stone Age at the Orpheum a few years back. But to have them team up on the so-called Dropout Boogie tour seemed too good to pass up.

The Black Angels opened up and immediately settled into a steady groove, with singer Alex Maas intoning his nasal vocals but occasionally letting out a heavily reverbed shriek. The band surprisingly did not jam much at all during the 75-minute set, keeping most of the songs to 4 or 5 minutes, and switching instruments for every song. Their songs tended to melt into each other, but not in a bad way. The Angels are a band that was made for head-nodding. Highlights included "Black Grease" from the band's debut album and "Telephone" from the latest release, Phosphene Dream. It's hard not to find yourself floating away on their dark, trippy soundscapes.

Black Mountain didn't waste much time getting onstage and immediately ratcheted up the heaviness factor, with drummer Joshua Wells pounding away furiously and bandleader Stephen McBean piling on the riffage. McBean and Amber Webber traded vocals throughout, underlying the metallic fury with hippie-inspired vocals, although they were drowned out a bit by the music. No matter, the band's sturm-und-drang power was undeniable on the epic "Tyrants," which starts off heavy, gets really quiet and then builds to a fiery crescendo. The set was peppered with sludgy rockers like "Old Fangs," "Rollercoaster" and "Let Spirits Ride" off the band's latest album, Wilderness Heart, and "Evil Ways" and "Angels" from 2008's In the Future. Halfway through the set, I noticed one J. Mascis of Dinosaur Jr. making his way into the club and sure enough, McBean brought him on stage to trade licks on "Druganaut," a 10-minute slow-burner from the band's debut. It was a classic rocksplosion that was worth the price of admission.

It doesn't matter whether you've heard the riffs before. When they're done right, nothing else matters.

Old Fangs:


Telephone: