White Hills' aesthetic is concise and to the point: space-rock head trauma brought on by a dive into a rabbit's hole of psycho-fuzz, brittle grooves and narcotic vox. As H-p1 can attest, these third-eye warriors spent a lot of time spinning their Hawkwind and Loop albums. This is a good thing, of course. But what distinguishes White Hills from other indie bands exploring similar terrain (like The Black Angels) is their devotion to sonic violence and multi-dimensional ruptures in the soundscape. To appreciate these points, crank "Movement," which melts into a clanging industrial racket.