This record drags you by the teeth. Miss Lava hit 20 years and didn’t stop to throw a party. They lit the fucking cake on fire and shoved it through a Marshall stack. Under A Black Sun is heavy like end-times prophecy and thick with that fuzzed-out, doom-psych lava roll that makes your speakers sound like they’re about to melt through the floor.
This ain’t your chill stoner rock for kicking back in the van. This is the sound of the van flipping off a cliff and catching fire mid-air. The riffs crawl, the drums pummel, the vocals sound like some pagan priest woke up in a black hole and decided to scream back. You can feel the weight of years in this thing – not the kind that slows you down, the kind that sharpens your edges and makes you mean.
Production’s raw enough to scrape bone but wide enough to feel like space is collapsing. Synths creep in like mold under the wallpaper. There’s beauty in there, but it’s the kind you find in ruins, not flower beds.
They got a new drummer and he doesn’t just hit hard – he means it. This whole thing means it. It doesn’t give a shit if you’re ready. It doesn’t ask permission. It grabs you by the collar, shouts in your face, then drops you somewhere cold and weird and cosmic.
This is ritual music for end-of-days bonfires. This is the 3AM gut-check when the drugs wear off and the stars start whispering. This is Miss Lava, twenty years deep, still swinging like the last song might kill them.
Light a candle. Burn the map. Let it swallow you.
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Released by Small Stone Records on April 25, 2025
