Winners Don’t Do Drugs.

The last we saw the lords of cannabis, Sleep, was 2018’s The Sciences. This record was a welcome return for the band of Dopesmoker fame, released 15 years after said masterpiece (and 19 since that record’s original version, Jerusalem). This comeback LP continued the legendary collaborative relationship between vocalist/bassist Al Cisneros (also of Om) and guitarist Matt Pike (also of High On Fire), bringing a sound much closer to Sleep’s Holy Mountain and Volume One, trading in the monolithic, grandiose take on stoner and drone metal for a rock-solid LP of blues-gone-metal bangers. While this change in direction maybe lacked the compositional ambition of Dopesmoker and couldn’t quite match the catharsis of Holy Mountain, The Sciences held its own in a sea of bands desperately attempting to imitate the blueprint laid out by groups like Sleep, Kyuss, Fu Manchu, and Electric Wizard.

Now in 2026, we’ve got a multitudinous amount of stoner metal bands that all sound the same, Pike slid out of the band (and further down bizarre conspiracy rabbitholes), and Cisneros has been left as the sole member of Sleep (Jason Roeder of Neurosis, who played on The Sciences, departed from the group in 2024). It’s not an ideal situation for Sleep as an institution of dudes who smoke too much grass, presumably leaving Al ample time to dive into Om or other projects, yet Sleep lives on. Not long after Pike publicly departed from the band, the group released a new single titled “Have Spacesuit Will Travel (4:20 Flexi Edit).” A new line-up was ready to bring Sleep to their next era, with only one issue—the track wasn’t very good. The song, both in this edited down single and its full album version, is a meandering cut of stoner rock that’s not particularly engaging or impressive. If a song like “Dragonaut” hits like a massive bong rip and “Dopesmoker” feels like the effects of a 800 mg edible, this return to the bud smokes like a one-hitter loaded up with bottom-of-the-bag shake, tasting faintly of hay. For those of you reading who have a job, this is to say that this introduction to the new Sleep is a remarkably bland and weak (and probably as dry) showing that, honestly, closer resembles the previously-insulted wannabes that cropped up in the wake of Sleep themselves.

Joining Al for this record in the massive shoes of Matt is, surprisingly enough, Bubba Dupree; formerly of Void, the short lived D.C. hardcore group most commonly known for their split with The Faith. While I do quite enjoy that Void side of the split (now on streaming as Side B), it made no sense to me to pull the guitarist from a short-lived punk outfit known for their proximity to the straight edge movement for your goddamned weed band, at least until I looked further and realized that he’s not necessarily inexperienced in the field. He played on Soundgarden‘s King Animal (Kim Thayil is the one who recommended him for the gig according to the band presser) and a few solo albums from Fu Manchu member Brant Bjork (while also previously being in grunge acts like Earth Eighteen and Hater). Filling in the drummer’s stool, previously cradling the asses of Roeder and longtime member Chris Hakius, is Dale Crover of Melvins fame. The Melvins, a significant fixture of doom metal (and general chud-ery) in their own right, is also the source of the producer: longtime studio engineer and collaborator Toshi Kasai (formerly of Big Business), and studio host for this record.

Whereas heavy involvement from two essential pieces of one of sludge metal’s most important acts might strike you as fitting and potentially interesting, I’d argue (as a former Melvins fan) that the group’s last significant record was released 20 years ago, with most of the records Kasai worked on with the group sounding like the same drab, gray servings of stoner rock gruel (think un-noteworthy additions to their discography like Working With God, Bad Mood Rising, and Basses Loaded). So, for those keeping track, the lineup for the new Sleep record, titled something as groan-worthy as Hempispheres, is Al Cisneros with a guitarist whose most notable work in the genre amounts to footnotes in the Fu Manchu extended body of work and ~40% of a legacy act far past their prime. What results in this collaboration is a record that’s about as flat as it is ineffectual, lacking in the departments of guitar tone and riffs (only the two most important parts of their formula). On “Arrival of the Industry Ships,” a mediocre, same-y track is only broken up by a bass tone that sounds like a wet fart run through a RAT pedal—for 11 minutes. “Whole Wheat Mountain (Well Baked)” and “The Morrisist” both just sort of aimlessly teeter and totter through a bar band blues backing without ever really coming to a crescendo. Each song maintains a level of hazy monotony that fails to really get going at any point, while lacking the compositional prowess of the band.’s past releases (It’s unsurprisingly difficult to write a song that’s interesting for 11 minutes, yet they managed 63 on Dopesmoker.)

If anything, much of this record feels like a mix of Cisneros’ more aimless, psuedo-meditative work in Om mixed with the plodding, mid-tempo mush of modern Melvins LPs. Whatever Dupree brings to this band with his guitar work is wholly dedicated to emulating what the band calls “…blue sunglasses era [Tommi] Iommi,” which results in safe rehashes of the same Black Sabbath riffs that everyone else has already done to death. It all comes together in a half-assed package that, if not for the band seeming to be interested in this project, feels more like an obligation than an artistic statement or even just some good music to get stoned to (the bar is not that high!). What we get instead is the Sleep brand being enveloped into the Melvins conglomerate, sounding like little more than a side project for Crover while Buzz Osbourne fucks off to go play in a band with the Butthole Surfers‘ JD Pinkus. Considering Sleep are maybe the most important stoner metal band of all time, there’s a bit of tragedy to their modern incarnation lacking any of what made them special as recently as 2018. I suppose the end result sounds professional enough, barring a few genuinely head-scratching tone and production choices, but I don’t think that this group should be just another sub-standard supergroup masquerading as an endeavor worth your time. Maybe that’s just me, or maybe the main reason for an album as pointless as Hempispheres is to cross-promote it with some fucking comic book (despite an admittedly pretty ugly album cover). Yeesh.

1.5/5 Flaming Toilets ov Hell

Hempispheres [*sigh* ~Roldy] is out now through Third Man Records.