I sometimes think that my recent obsession with super heavy rock is something like a mid-life musical crisis. I’ve always had the fear that as I got older, my tastes would skew more towards light jazz and folk and I would let my punk records collect dust. If that is the case, I couldn’t have picked a better time to allow my musical taste to take on the guise of a stoned 16-year old in a small Midwestern town. Right now, there are tons of amazing hard rock and proto-metal bands making absolutely incredible albums, in terms of sonic experimentation and an adherence to the age old idea of rockin’ really fuckin’ hard.

One of my new favorites is an English trio by the name of Jecano, a group part of the rare breed of hard rock that actually exercises a modicum of restraint. From the sound of their recorded efforts (available as free downloads on their website), this trio have the chops to fill each song with guitar and drum pyrotechnics, but mercifully yank on the reins and keep things as simple as their brand of aggressive rock will allow. “Tyrewall,” from their 2002 EP Monument III¸ highlights this, but also showcases their front man’s combination of hot asphalt gargling screams and more melodic, Rob Halford-esque croon.

For a slinky, Steppenwolf groove, I turn to the Canadian group, Black Mountain. This sextet, whose debut disc was released last year on Jagjaguwar, has the rare ability to sound both dangerous and sexy in equal measures, especially on the track “Druganaut.” The slow roll of the drums and wordless moans from leader Stephen McBean would be more than enough but are gloriously superseded by fire-breathing power chords and enrapturing vocal interludes courtesy of Amber Webber.

On the psych-sludge tip, The Heads, also from England, take Sabbath’s doom theory ideals to new, frightening heights. Their 2005 disc, Under the Stress of a Headlong Dive, is finally seeing the light of day in the U.S. thanks to Alternative Tentacles. The whole disc is, at times, a little meandering and rather long (the final two tracks alone are a combined 32 minutes), but several of the tracks, like “We Descend From,” are pure fuzzed-out bliss, thanks in no small part to H.O. Morgan and Paul Allen’s acid-dripping dual guitar freak outs.

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