Howlin Rain - 'Magnificent Fiend' (Birdman) Released 28/04/08

"For those about to rock, we salute you," AC/DC proclaimed back in 1981. If the Australian riffmeisters were serious about that pledge, it's reasonable to assume they were lined up in full rocking regalia outside the studio as San Francisco trad-rock visionaries Howlin Rain got down to work on their second album.

Put simply, 'Magnificent Fiend' rocks. It rocks harder, it rocks bigger, it rocks longer and it rocks more unashamedly than most things since, well, the stuff that inspired this frequently awe-inspiring outpouring of vintage rock (that word again). Imagine MC5 in possession of several extra chords on top of their customary three, or the Allman Brothers Band with the blues replaced by a dizzying day-glo splendour and their twelve-bar chug chucked out in favour of a hard-rocking gallop. Add a hint of Procol Harum's cascading Hammond organ recitals, throat-shredding yet soulful wailing, alternating soothing and screeching virtuoso guitar bits that go on for the better part of an eternity, mind-expanding experimentalism and lyrics oozing with outlaw yarns and mythical mumbo-jumbo , and you've a fair idea of the folks - and the era - Howlin Rain bow down to.

If that sounds like an odious blast of boogie Armageddon, fear not. As audibly in hock to late 60's templates as Magnificent Fiend is, it's about as likely to resort to derivative retro-isms as you'd expect from an album fronted by Comets on Fire screamer and axe-shredder Ethan Miller. In fact, the platter is a direct descendent of CoF's 2006 masterpiece 'Avatar': a dynamic, endlessly unpredictable and spectacularly enjoyable display of how to squeeze fresh outcomes from oft-visited ingredients, with added brass parts and hints of ear-splitting chaos lurking just beneath the surface for anyone missing the currently resting California avant-rock quartet's feedback-scoffing early phases.

As impressive as the platter's hyperactive, lung-busting riff-slingers (especially 'Dancer at the End of Time', which manages to drop a dollop of Fela-esque polyrhythm amidst its rock god strut) are, 'Magnificent Fiend' works best when Howlin Rain ease off the gas pedal. 'Lord Have Mercy' unveils a luxurious update of the Band's sparse rural funk, before accelerating into a monumental coda akin to a long-haired armada setting sail towards unexplored, distinctly far-out shores. The gorgeous 'Riverboat', which sprinkles generous layers of laidback harmonies ala Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young on top of an embarrassment of sumptuous melodies, is even better.

'Magnificent Fiend's appeal isn't limited to those who insist rock's never surpassed its lurid late-60's peaks. No matter how averse you normally are to the merits of musical backwards-gazing, Howlin Rain make catapulting deep into the past in search of inspiration sound like the freshest concept around. Simply magnificent.