This eponymous new album is a definite step beyond previous Mamuthones’ releases: it still retains the droney, foreboding darkness of its older siblings, but this time the sound is the one of a raw, aggressive rock trio. Shrouded in a haze of psychedelic noise and firmly rooted to Boldrin’s inventive and powerful drumming, the album gathers a series of crushing performances interspersed with shorter, more reflective interludes. At times hypnotically thundering (The first born), monstrously rhythmic (like on the real tour-de-force that is Ota Benga, all pounding percussion, Sun Ra-styled keyboard solos and fractured guitars) or simply unnerving (check ghostly closer Ave Maria), the album’s heaviness is balanced by tracks like the pulsing Kash-O-Kashak that, with its buzzing bouzouki-like guitars, manages to sound at the same time menacing and melancholic, or the airy, subdued MJ 74 (actually recorded by Maurizio Boldrin back in 1974!). Like a hard-bitten version of Ya Ho Wah 13 dealing with the celestial slowness of a Japanese tea ceremony or a Catholic mass celebrated by a demonic Father Karras, Mamuthones have delivered an album of black, truly anguished psychedelia where the listener can find hope glimmering at the end of the tunnel.