Three drum beats is all it needs. Three.

Then that dredger like guitar sound ploughs into you while that voice rips apart your psyche.

Three drum beats and it’s 1995 again.

Ah, maybe not but it’s damned close.

The opening song of Saint Vitus’ curiously-named-unless-you-know-your-barbiturates Lillie: F-65 album is a master class in remembering who you are as musicians. A malevolent, dragging riff that crawls across the filthy bed of a 1995 squat and a voice that somehow opens up every old mental wound with its simple, soulful and strangled sound. Let Them Fall; a companion piece to the utterly bleak I Bleed Black from V, lyrics in a fever sweat of tangled sheets and uncontrolled mental collapse and as relevant in 2012 as any year. Addictive, devoid of hope, memorable in both riff and word: Frankly, it is brilliant.

Even after the festival reformations I wasn’t sure what to expect from the reunion of three quarters of what many of us regard as the definitive Saint Vitus incarnation. But that… That is perfect.

What you have, for those unaware, is Dave Chandler, Scott ‘ Wino’ Weinrich, Mark Adams and Henry Vasquez. Guitars, vocals and bass from the 86 to 91 line-up and companion from Debris Inc and doom bands a plenty on drums respectively. Older and I guess in some ways wiser men but goddamn if they don’t shit finer doom than most could bleed. So maybe that rub of sandpaper and stone personalities is still there?

Second song The Bleeding Ground has the obsessions of maverick conspiracy lover Wino in full vocal flight over one of those lazy sounding, impossible to let go riffs. A swipe at the government, a look of despair at the destruction with those picked lyrics and then Wino’ s half urgent, half despairing, everyman phrasing but gorgeous tones bring it to life. Add a wonderful brace of lead breaks and it’s over. Sweet. Bitter. Vitus.

Lillie the album is like slipping into a warm bath; so simple and easy to slide into, to wallow and relax in. Impossible to find the power to clamber out. It tricks you and it’s too late to do anything about it.

Throughout the entire album, the guitar work here is superb. From the ominous, huge falling doom riffs on The Waste Of Time to the softer, fluid notes on instrumental Vertigo, Dave Chandler puts in a truly evocative and emotional performance. It has his identity and his style three miles deep, a black rumble rolling and roiling in the tar thick world carved out by Mark Adams and Henry Vasquez’ superb connection.

Blessed Night is one of those engines that rolls out of the sheds and absolutely nothing gets in its path and survives the momentum. There is a dark joy in its simple but craftsman like construction and it is just a pleasure to sit back and watch it do its thing. Dependence is another song with a view from the inside, articulating the struggles of those who are aware of what they clutch and what it makes them, be it chemical or emotional need. Classic Vitus breeding ground.

The album closes with the squall of fingers down a blackboard guitar noise of Withdrawal, leaving me with a serious case of needing to go right back to those first three drum beats.

There are no missteps on this album, no tracks that let it down, no mistakes in the flow, the running order or the restrained production. It doesn’t even drag things out to a stupid length. If there is a criticism at all it is that this album is just too bloody easy to get into and doom usually requires work for it to give up its full riches. Usually. This one I don’t know. But I’m docking half a mark just in case.

Bloody awesome.

(9.5/10 Gizmo)

http://www.myspace.com/stvitus