Twenty-five years into their career, Raging Speedhorn have just released the best record of their lives. Night Wolf is the sound of a band who’ve done the rounds, worn the bruises, and finally locked into the purest, dumbest, grooviest version of themselves. It’s half an hour of nothing but riffs. No fat. Just riffs. Back when they first appeared - two vocalists, no melody - they were genuinely intimidating, but time’s done something great to Raging Speedhorn, and they’ve aged into a new kind of heaviness. The first few cuts are menacing, but by the final tracks, things have lifted into something like a party. This is a band that’s finally confident enough to be funny.

Frank Regan’s voice is still pure Phil Anselmo-level menace, while Dan Cook has settled in perfectly, growling and fry-screaming with conviction and character, and the two bounce off each other like prizefighters, especially on Every Night’s Alright For Fighting. The unexpected genius of Night Wolf is that it’s knowingly ridiculous, the parodic hardman lyrics running through most of the album lean all the way in (“Standing back and looking mean/Like a one man wrecking machine”). It never loses power. These riffs hit. They’re properly feral. Whether it’s the strange time signature of Buzz Killa, the gleefully tongue in cheek Dead Man Can’t Dance, or the groovy innuendo sludge-blues of Comin’ In Hard (complete with gunshot FX), it’s clear this band is having the time of their lives, and they sound awesome, with a clear sense of celebration. It feels like an overdue celebration of everything that once made 90s metal cool. This is not djent. It’s not metalcore. It’s not chasing trends. It’s just Speedhorn. Have they matured? Not exactly, but they’ve got better. It’s rock and roll in the most Mötorhead sense of the word: no rules, no brakes, all volume. If you’ve ever loved a metal riff in your life, this record’s got you covered.