If you think rock is dead, The Return of Tomorrow is here to slam your face into the pavement and scream, “Not yet, man!” This album isn’t just a collection of songs; it’s a riff-drenched sermon delivered by Fu Manchu from atop a mountain of broken amps. Imagine hurtling down a desert highway at 100 miles per hour, your car shaking apart, and you’re not even sure if you’re headed toward salvation or a head-on collision with oblivion. That’s what listening to this record feels like.

From the very first second, Fu Manchu grabs you by the throat with the kind of riffs that feel like they’ve been marinating in motor oil for decades. Gritty, heavy, and soaked in that signature fuzz, this album doesn’t bother easing you in—because why would it? Life doesn’t wait for you to get comfortable, and neither does The Return of Tomorrow. Tracks like “Hands of the Zodiac” and “Solar Baptized” live up to their name, teetering on the brink of total chaos, but held together by grooves so thick they might as well be concrete. And then there’s “Eye of the Storm,” which sounds like the soundtrack to an apocalyptic road trip—blistering, relentless, and impossible to ignore.

But let’s get one thing straight: this isn’t music for the casual listener. Fu Manchu is loud, raw, and gloriously unpolished. The fuzz here is thicker than the desert air, and the distortion feels like it’s crawling up your spine. This is music for people who want to feel every chord rattling in their bones. It’s the sound of freedom, rebellion, and total disregard for anything that isn’t pure, unadulterated rock and roll.