Ride the Sky

This track opens with an unusual lift — a riff that has an almost classic-rock swagger lurking beneath its noise-rock deformation, as if the skeleton of a Thin Lizzy lead line got buried in distortion cement and is trying to claw back out. The pacing is expansive by Lightning Bolt standards, with breathing room between the drum explosions that gives the music an odd sense of forward momentum, something almost like an exhilarating ride rather than pure immersive punishment. Chippendale's drumming here chases the bass melody rather than competing with it, the two instruments briefly achieving something recognizable as groove before the track sheds that structure and plunges back into chaos. The title points toward something, and the music delivers: there's a genuine sense of elevation in the mid-section, a dizzying upward surge in the bass register that reads emotionally as ascent before the inevitable crash back to earth. For new listeners trying to understand why Lightning Bolt cultivated such a devoted following, this is perhaps the more accessible entry point — the raw pleasure of the riff is undeniable even inside the noise. This belongs to the moment of reckless forward motion, driving too fast on an empty highway at 2am, windows down, volume unreasonable.