If this record was a college class, it would be titled “STONER ROCK 101”. What goes on inside “Black Power Flower” is the absolute necessary for the genre, yet the pillars holding this creation up are the compact, finger-licking-good fuzzy sound of the guitars and the bass. Would you expect something less from one of the pioneers of stoner rock/metal, a member of the group that gave the guiding light for a whole genre? I certainly would not.

With the notable “holy” plant that also helped shape the stoner rock scene being the center of the cover artwork, you pretty much know where this is going right from the start. The first notes of “Controllers Destroyed” are also there to help you get the point and I’m pretty sure that after a minute or two you won’t need any other hints.

70’s southern rock and proto-doom are sitting comfortably in a speeding smoked up that strolls through the Sky Valley. The sun caresses their skin and the wind provides little comfort, though its touch is much welcome. Their thoughts transform into riffs, lazy and stoked, but weirdly optimistic and energetic at the same time, providing the right stuff for a party or just a chilled, sunny afternoon. Each note of the first five tracks is filled with a groovy rhythm that makes every note matter. I mean real no-fillers-allowed shit right here.

This is the more straightforward side of the album, a surf in southern/desert rock sand waves, destined to make asses move, beers open, heads nod in trance, and in general make any worries go away and provoke you to chill the fuck out in any way you want. You might find this description generic, but this is because “Black Power Flower” is also generic in the best possible way. When you have a music that is based on groove and a small amount of riffs, you better make these two elements worthwhile. And I’ll be damned if that doesn’t happen in here.

Although “Boogie Woogie On Your Brain” and “Ain’t No Runnin’” will bring up a small decline in the streak of awesome tracks, the 3 final songs come as a hazy burnout of the thoughts of our friends who were riding that car described earlier. Southern blues rock will be mixed with psychedelic stretches and the guitar sound becomes even more intoxicating since it’s released from the chains of the verse-chorus patent. Solos that feel like they’ve jumped out of the “Desert Sessions” make their way in your mind as the laid back rhythm section speeds up and you don’t even notice it amongst the awesomeness (“Hustler’s Blues”).

The album ends with one of the three best songs in there (“Where you from, man”), which is based on two quite simple riffs, but mister Bjork works his magic to make it sound far more deep and perplexed than it is. Although he has already a myth built up thanks to his career, Brant Bjork does not rest and gives out another record that honors the principles of a genre he largely helped be created and more importantly slaps around many bands that try to play the “bad motherfucker stoner rock” game (besides being tons of fun for those who worship stoner rock).

The final point is this: Do you enjoy Kyuss? Do you enjoy the more stoned side of Black Sabbath? Do you enjoy the dirty, fuzzy guitar sound that doesn’t sound like it’s been produced in a plastic factory and it heats up the room no matter the temperature? If you’ve nodded “Yes” in any of the above, please, do get some beer, a smoke or whatever floats your boat and let “Black Power Flower” roll. Don’t pass it by as “just another solo side project” because it is much more than that.

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