(Hydra Head)

Welcome to the crawling, heavy, doom-laden and utterly convincing world of Harvey Milk, experimental noisemongers of gargantuan riffage, bowel-loosening bass and primal, apocalyptic howls. It’s elemental, monumental stuff, but if that were all, they would be in danger of collapsing into a black hole of misery. The tiny tempering glimmers of light – the nerve-tingling piano of ‘I Know This is All My Fault’ or the unexpectedly soaring chorus of ‘I Know This is No Place for You’ – are just enough to buff the genius elsewhere. This is as far out as rock music gets, but it’s worth the trip.