“Almost Washed My Hair” erupts from the stereo like some bastard child from a universe where Iggy Pop fronted The Velvet Underground and the only song in their repertoire was “Sister Ray” but they could never remember how to play it. This ear-splitting and cacophonous rock sounds as raw and powerful as anything else in my record collection. The deafening guitars dominate everything; only ghosts of vocals and a hammering beat are perceptible under the overloaded amplifiers. However, this is nothing like the amplifier worship of Sunn O))) or other volume friendly bands. Purling Hiss instead goes for that swaggering, sexual rock rhythm that has been strangely absent in a lot of new music (or at least not as swaggering and sexy as it used to be). Purling Hiss turn things up even more (beyond what would be considered polite for sure) on “Purple Hiss.” At a quarter of an hour, it is a sweaty and blistering journey through the impossibly loud. The guitar solos are electric and contain everything that a guitar solo should: false starts, fits, duff notes, wah and enough amplification to make us all feel a little sick. The final tune, “Montage Mountain,” recycles the recordings that make up the rest of the album. Polizze does not make anything spectacularly new out of the recordings but it is another chance to bask in the glow from his six strings which are burning white hot at this point. Maybe it is the adrenaline talking but this album is a serious contender for my rock album of the decade. Like any latecomer to a party, Purling Hiss do not give a toss about you or your friends but they are hear to drink your booze and have a good time. Instead of asking where they have been for the last while, make the most of it and party with them until you get blind drunk, throw up and ruin the carpet. It will be worth it, trust me.