KING BUFFALO

When reality is continually punching you in the face, music can sometimes be the only escape that really counts. And when it comes to weaving a magic carpet of sound that simply cannot fail to transport the listener somewhere brighter and better, KING BUFFALO are the absolute space-daddies. Guardians of their own sweet spot, where stoner rock and psychedelic exploration collide in a shower of good vibrations and astral mischief, the Rochester trio are already on the verge of legendary status: principally, because no one else does this stuff quite like KING BUFFALO.

They're a restless and prolific bunch, too. "Regenerator" follows swiftly after the two albums that KING BUFFALO released during 2021. Both those albums — the dry and quirky "The Burden Of Restlessness" and the epic trip-out of "Acheron" — conspired to add greater depth to the band's trademark sound, and both did exactly that. "Regenerator" is different again. A shinier, more uplifting set than the acid-drenched "Acheron", this is as close as they have come to writing traditional rock anthems, and yet these songs still shimmer and sparkle with lysergic delight.

The opening title track is arguably as indulgent as any in the Buffalo canon: nine minutes of lissome, quasi-Krautrock grooves and increasingly feral guitar work, it sounds big enough to fill an arena, and yet intimate enough to soundtrack your bedroom hallucinations. "Mercury" is a mist-shrouded, jittery waltz through fields of pungent flora, with some heroically bombastic bursts of one-note acid rock riffing from frontman Sean McVay; "Hours" is all myopic garage rock riffing and robotic urgency.

After the soothing "Interlude" pays askance tribute to THE BEATLES, "Mammoth" stutters in on a laconic throb, with shades of KYUSS at their most eccentric, before McVay's deliciously blank-eyed vocal sparks a gradual build towards a fuzzed-up riff of startling enormity. Slowing to a red-eyed slither, "Avalon" verges on shoegaze in its beatific drift, but a thrilling final crescendo reinforces KING BUFFALO's power trio potency.

"Regenerator" closes with yet another new variation on this band's versatile theme. Somber and unsettling, "Firmament" hints at a darkness that is largely absent from the rest of the record, while also remembering to deliver a deeply satisfying wall of distorted, angular doom that spirals off like HAWKWIND in their drug-addled prime. Throughout it all, KING BUFFALO demonstrate a lightness of touch that makes every moment feel like a doorway to some wonderful, blue-skied and bong-equipped Utopia. An offer most sensible people won't refuse, I suspect.