Conan's Revengeance kicks in with warm, fuzzy, low-tuned guitars that are the sonic equivalent of a bear hug from barely bipedal, prehistoric man. This UK-based three-piece is capable of unleashing a raging maelstrom of sludge, crust-caked doom, and mammoth droning. Even though they are on their third album, Conan remain as pissed off as ever. The album is the end result of mixing monolithic bad tempers, powerhouse eternal riffs, and arson-like vocals.