Pitchfork

Australia's Wolfmother are one of a handful of bands hell-bent on making heavy rock a sizable force in 2006. Their sound is a throwback to 1970s hard rock-- miles of galloping riffs, noodling organ, and guitar fuzz-- but what makes their self-titled debut rise above mere pastiche is how capably they strike a balance between meaty vintage metal and crisp, stoner-rock melodies.

Typically, Wolfmother plays it straight, employing the raw materials of some of the original prog/metal bands signed to England's Vertigo Records during the label's 1969-71 prime: "Colossal" booms with heavy power chords and woozy riffing, while frontman Andrew Stockdale's crisp vocals soar through the rhythm's open spaces, while "Woman" is a driving, upbeat monster with spacey prog-inflected keyboards. But they also test their limits on tracks like "The White Unicorn". Its opening bars recall Led Zeppelin's gentler side with clean-strummed guitar chords and Stockdale putting on his best Robert Plant, but tumbling drumfills inevitably welcome back the rock, leading up to a blissed-out, psychedelic bridge.

"Where Eagles Have Been" best spans the album's breadth: clean guitars turn dirty, organs wail during the transitions, and the slow and intense rhythm becomes upbeat and explosive just in time for the guitar solo. On "Witchcraft", the band evokes Jethro Tull with a Canterbury flute solo that ought to sound forced or hokey, but context is everything, and set against Wolfmother's wallop, it's a natural fit. Of course, not all their risks return rewards as worthwhile: The obnoxious three-and-a-half-minute garage-punk blast "Apple Tree" features the album's most uninspired songwriting and laziest delivery. Fortunately, they manage to take things out on a high note with the swampy "Vegabond", a track that, like much of this record's other material, authentically emulates a classic sound with the conviction and hunger of a young band on their way to finding a more singular voice.