Loved their 2016 release, Lore. This one tops it. Really great Stoner/Doom metal with scorching guitar and soaring, anthemic movement within each song. Stereogum named it Album of the Week, and for good reason. Here's some excerpts from the writeup:

quote:
Elder’s wing of the metal underground is stoner/doom, the side that draws its inspiration from slow and fuzzy and deliberate ’70s occult bongwater rock. Or, in any case, that’s where Elder started out; with each successive release, they’ve gone further and further into their own sound, to the point where they really only qualify as metal by association these days. Over their last few records, Elder have gone off more in the direction of prog and heavy psychedelia. But they’re not like Opeth, the first band that most of us think of when we think of that endlessly permeable metal/prog dividing line. Opeth make theatrical grand-gesture music, moving from fragile woodland folk to roaring Scandinavian death shite. Elder don’t make big gestures like that. In fact, it’s easy to imagine that they don’t even think about whether people will consume their music. Instead, they sound like three musicians completely in tune with one another, facing each other rather than whoever might be listening, willing each other toward greatness. Elder’s songs aren’t segmented the way Opeth’s are; we don’t hear a folk bit going into a big riff. Instead, they fire off in every direction at once, and the songs don’t end until they end.

They don’t end for a while. Reflections Of A Floating World, Elder’s new album, has six songs spread over about an hour, which is entirely par for the course with this band. Listening to Reflections, though, you might not even notice that the songs are long. They don’t communicate length. The album isn’t about where one song starts and another ends. They all bleed together into one vast symphony of heavy grandeur. If you really sit down and analyze their songs, you can probably discern all these little movements and sections. Elder, like every stoner band in existence, builds on what Black Sabbath once did. But for all we know, Elder might chart their songs out on graph paper, which we can be pretty certain Tony Iommi never did. Still, for all the complexity in Elder’s music, you don’t hear it as complex. Complexity isn’t the point. The members of the band have chops — guitarist and frontman Nicholas DiSalvo in particular — but they’re putting those chops in service of the raging lost-world atmosphere that they’re conjuring. The songs, I think, are that long because it takes time to spiral down into that world, to lose your sense of self and give in completely, to immerse yourself into what they’re doing.