There’s a storm brewing over the dusty hills of Albuquerque, New Mexico, but it’s got nothing to do with the wind and sand of the Land of Enchantment. No, this twister is being conjured up on a laptop from the bedroom of black ambient czar William Fowler Collins, as evidenced in the grim, desolate tone on his sophomore release, Perdition Hill Radio. Across a half dozen dark, sprawling tracks, this guitarist-by-trade brings the most sinister depths of heavy music into the digital era, pulling from both the barren Western doomscapes of Hex-era Earth and the icy calm of Brian Eno’s ambient work to craft a sound that makes for the most bleak vision of America’s future drummed up by Cormac McCarthy look like the roaring ‘20s. This album will grip you as only the things that both mesmerize you and shake you to your most fearful, trembling core can. If you are trapped out in the Mojave with only a few ounces of water left before the buzzards come for your fetid corpse, this will be your soundtrack accompaniment.