“Teabagged by God,” a secret track on High on Fire’s Blessed Black Wings, is so heavy that guitarist Matt Pike’s five tons of Laney amplification groan under its weight. “Deity’s crotch, scary crag/now you suffer the god’s teabag,” Pike mutters. He can’t sing and doesn’t shout well, either, which makes his calling out “Blessed black wings!” over and over in the title cut cool—second only to the sound of Yahweh’s rusty iron testicles smashing around. “I am managing to stay in key a lot longer,” said the singer to one good publication about a year ago, and it shows.
High on Fire don’t deliver dance beats, and their songs do not feature anthemic choruses, explains The New York Times. Nevertheless, it was reported Pike doesn’t kid around “with his long stretches of the same guitar chord.” Others as knowledgeable even claim High on Fire transcend time: You’d think the metal trio was playing at relativistic velocities—that’s nearing the speed of light—making a few minutes for them an eternity for the observer. This album’s compositions are animals, sensible in the duller parts with meaning even in their snores. And if you imagine High on Fire as many others do, they may yet pass for excellent men. And if this seems a bit exciting, disregard that stuff about teabagging and testes. It was a flight of fancy. Sorry.
High on Fire play the Bowery Ballroom February 16.