Last time I checked in with Ohio-bred heavyweights Abdullah, they sounded like woozy bull elephants chained to the walls of their concrete cages, tranquilized beasts thrashing in a syrupy fog, bleating out an SOS of unholy anguish. Which was fine, really, because I like Doom rock. Doom makes me feel young and fast, like a racecar driver in a leather jumpsuit. But it seems that slow, languorous mud metal was not enough for Abdullah, so somewhere along the snaky line from there to here, they became Thin Lizzy Well, not exactly, more like Chicago proto-power doomsters Trouble channeling their inner Lynott, but certainly close enough for rock and roll. Picture heads-down, take-no-prisoners, mid 70's thunderboogie rolling thick and fast while some shirtless, long haired grunge god lays down impassioned cautionary tales of fleeting indulgences and the rocky seas ahead like an electric preacher in the Church of the Holy Freakout, and you've pretty much nailed this smooth ride. It's freedom rock for panicky days and restless nights, and it's quite clearly the best album of it's kind since Trouble's classic '92 dope dream "Manic Frustration". Yeah, but is Abdullah still Doom? Well, we're all fuckin' doomed, pal. Abdullah just take the news with more style and grace then most.