A few years back, right when Ty Segall was leaving Goner Records for Drag City, his soon-to-be-former label released a collection of Segall’s odds and ends that would help close the chapter on that part of this career. If you take a look at the liner notes, you’ll see the phrase “Listen To Blue Cheer” written on the sleeve that housed the CD.

Now, listening to his new power trio Fuzz, you can see how prophetic those words are — this newest project, featuring Ty Segall Band’s guitarist Charles Moothart and bassist Roland Cosio, with Segall handling drum and vocal duties, is amplifier worship in the purest sense. They go all in and deliver hard-hitting, blown-out proto-metal that not only references the aforementioned Blue Cheer, but also hearkens to such bands as the Groundhogs, Dust, and other loud rock bands from the early ’70s who just plugged in and kicked it out.

Fuzz manage to find a nice balance between brute force and their drummer’s catchy song craft — the songs pack plenty of punch, but there is also a certain rugged grace to them. However, to say this is all Segall’s show would be an error, because Moothart unleashes a torrent of riffs, solos, and effects pedal freak-outs that give the project its muscle and make it even more heavy and vicious. His work on Slaughterhouse was a just a warm up for what he does on this record.

“Earthen Gate” opens with a swell of feedback and some gentle plucking, right before the main riff comes crashing down in full brontosaur stomp mode. “Sleigh Ride” ups the tempo a bit, adding a little proto-punk to the proto-metal, while “What’s In My Head” is the heaviest slice of pop you are likely to hear all year. “Loose Sutures” starts off in a sing-song manner, but opens up to some boss jamming from each member of the band. “Preacher” is pounding and aggressive, and features a blistering solo (one of many on the record) from Moothart, while “One” closes out the album as a showcase for each member of the band’s instrumental prowess.

At a very basic level, this record shows the joys of playing some simple — not simple-minded — primitive, loud rock. It is one of Segall’s better albums, and though some might simply dismiss this as his “metal record,” you are totally missing out on something that satisfies everyone’s basic instincts to get loud and aggressive from time to time.

I’m hoping metalheads don’t skip this one solely because it’s not on the proper label or comes from the usual channels. This one slays, and you should hear it.

(In The Red Records, PO Box 50777, Los Angeles, CA 90050)