The awesome second album from Leeds stoner rockers Black Moth. 'Condemned To Hope.' produced like their first by Jim Sclavunos (Grinderman, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, The Cramps) takes their kaleidoscopic heaviosity and sepulchral style to a whole new plateau of riff-driven dementia. It's an album of fearsome drive and clandestine twists, skilfully sidestepping the cliché and heavy-handedness of delivery that often seems fit to destroy contemporary heavy rock 'n' roll from the inside out. There's a surfeit of fiery diabolism to be had here, as on the opening 'Tumbleweave', which blends a Grinderman era Nick Cave-esque wry absurdity on the lyrical front with a woozy third-eye landslide of a riff-monster, or 'The Undead King Of Rock N' Roll', a keen-eyed deconstruction of the more tiresome traits of the rock mythos to a gloriously debauched blast of Acid King style dirge-dementia. Yet there's both subtlety and strength in depth too, as the infectious melodic suss of 'Set Yourself Alight's and 'Stinkhorn', whose dustblown expanses bring to mind the primal atmosphere of 'To Bring You My Love' era PJ Harvey, will testify. A turbulent brew with just as much 60s garage rock bite, head-spinning psychedelia and '1991-The-Year-That-Punk-Broke' grit to offer as Vinum Sabbathi riffage. 'Condemned To Hope' is where Black Moth truly render themselves a glimmering presence in the firmament of 21st century rock.