Some time around the release of 200 Tons of Bad Luck, Crippled Black Phoenix mainman Justin Greaves (also of Electric Wizard and Iron Monkey) gave an interview where he referred to himself and the band as vigilantes. The idea of Greaves and his cohorts donning balaclavas and clearing the streets of shit bands such as My Chemical Romance with lashings of baseball bat action was particularly appealing. His argument was that whilst Crippled Black Phoenix might deal with difficult themes and depressing topics, there is always a glimmer of hope; something the likes of MCR spectacularly failed to do.

Whether the of pummelling emo bands as a public service informed the title of this album (or more accurately album length EP) is as yet unconfirmed, but the notion that it might have done, means that CBP have at least maintained that ray of hope this time around.

Musically, Crippled Black Phoenix has a particularly wide wingspan taking in an array of styles. Rather than a shocking grab bag of influences thrown together in haste, everything here is constructed with an exquisite eye for detail. So whilst the band may find itself most readily associated with the post-rock scene (the likes of ‘Bostogne Blues’ could easily have been written by Silver Mt Zion…), there are also allusions to prog-rock, classic and stoner metal, folk, Celtic influences and, naturally, pastoral classical music. There’s also a tip of the hat to the flower power 60s with Burning Bridges, which should probably come packaged separately from the album in a box wrapped in a patchouli soaked paisley shirt. To say that it doesn’t quite fit in would be something of an understatement.

If ‘Burning Bridges’ is an unusual end to the album, that’s down to everything that precedes it. From the outset, Crippled Black Phoenix are on stunning form. Kicking off with ‘Troublemaker’, they introduce a vague wolf theme (the wolf changes its fur but not its nature – so says the introduction) and head straight into doom laden prog-rock territory. As ethereal as Pink Floyd one moment, and as balls heavy as Iron Balls MacGinty the next, CBP flip between moods easily, but essentially they’re roaring from the off.

The piano led ‘We Forgotten Who We Are’ stretches out for nearly eleven minutes and yet never outstays its welcome. The beautiful classical tones that introduce the song eventually give way into an utterly relentless, hypnotic groove which wastes no time in pulling you in. The song just builds and builds, passing through eloquent passages of tumbling pianos, violent duelling guitars screaming at each other like rival metallic vultures, and haunting vocals echoing from the heavens. To get lost in this world of orderly chaos is a joy.

‘Fantastic Justice’ is more concise, but no less stunning. An almost militaristic blues ballad, its almost nonchalant opening moments are a cunningly concealed trap waiting to spring an explosion of soaring brass bursts that completely blindside the unwary. Crippled Black Phoenix might have bigger hidden riffs elsewhere on I, Vigilante, but at no other point do the sound this enormous. When those horns join the fray they’re oceanic.

A tribute to the veterans of WWII follows in the shape of the gently shimmering and thoroughly haunting folk balladry of ‘Bostogne Blues’. Once again cleverly utilising strings and brass instrumentation, the band find that musically at least, there’s not always much difference between jubilation and sorrow. This is the sound of hope that Greaves was speaking of – vast swells of emotion propelling both band and audience towards rapture. It is nothing short of spectacular.

The cover of Journey’s ‘Of A Lifetime’, is perhaps an unnecessary indulgence. Expertly performed it might be, but following the majesty of ‘Bostogne Blues’, it comes across as sadly lacking. As a whole however, I,Vigilante is anything but lacking. This is the sound of one of the most inventive bands around at the moment ransacking the past and building a fascinating future.