Audiopile Review: Philly’s King Blood makes an unexpected but fully welcome return, landing once again on his hometown imprint Petty Bunco (Emily Robb, Astute Palate, David Nance) for his first album since 2019’s Hocus Focus. We probably first stumbled across King Blood back in 2010, the deep digging folks over at Aquarius Records or Fusetron hyping the self-released and hyper limited debut LP probably tipped us off to the mysterious figure emanating from the Philadelphia psych underground. Arriving during the explosion of fellow chugging psychonauts like Wooden Shjips, Cave, and Purling Hiss, King Blood embodied an even dingier and notably blown out form of this new branch of neo-psychedelia. His identity was eventually revealed as Ryland Wharton, guitarist in the short-lived noise rockers Snake Apartment and head of the Skulltones imprint, responsible for bringing us early singles from Sic Alps, Black Pus, and Shit & Shine, all precursors for what was to come. Sure, those days of unhinged fuzz and guitar histrionics are in the rearview at this point, with most of the aforementioned bands flaming out or retracting their sounds considerably (see Purling Hiss’ move into neu-grunge, Cave’s shift towards airy kraut-pop, and the Shjips dissolving into psych-country as The Rose City Band for evidence), but not too much has changed over at King Blood central. Committed as ever to worshiping the endless blown-out riff, King Blood still seeks salvation through repetition and in-the-red volumes, his untethered blues leaving a trail of tinnitus and overheated amps in his wake. But it’s not all caveman renditions of Stooges riffs, the flip side of the record does reveal a bit of restraint, a handful of the tracks taking a meandering skywalk of effortless solos and trippy kraut flights. If you miss those heady days of 15 years back like we do, King Blood’s got what you need.

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The return of your favorite unknown guitarist’s favorite unknown guitarist! If previous platters ran on filthy diesel and sputtering engines, Eye I Aye Ivy is powered by jet fuel and has sights set way beyond the horizon. It’s a cosmic headbanger that vamps on nearly recognizable rock riffs to build one excruciating crescendo after another. It’s the soundtrack for the first ravioli western to be filmed on the moon in the gutter. Conceived and recorded entirely by Ry himself, this thing is stuffed with twelve tracks that show influences ranging from the patient throb of King Tubby, the confident triumph of Iron Maiden, the otherworldly din of Blues Control, the budget sci-fi fantasy of Chrome, and the easy come down of Spacemen 3, often within the same damn tune. It’s the type of record that’ll have ya knee deep in murk, humming along, and flipping it over and over and over again, desperately waiting for the next time Ry turns up from parts unknown to give us another King Blood offering.