Rock Music, Remember?

I'm wearing headphones, the kids are asleep, and its quiet inside. But inside these cans (some big, open-backed AKG's I picked up last year) I've got something rare: its rock, and it's got rigor, it's got substance, and its loud. I'm not one for lyrics, I get wrapped up in a tune and a beat when there is one to be had, and I forget about the rest, because, ususally, there isn't much to hear. But these guys inside my earcups put the words to the music and they dance. Or wrestle, and shout, and kick, and spit.

I've been listening to the Raconteurs Consolers of The Lonely album for months now, I keep waiting to get sick of it, for the tunes to turn trite or the lyrics to reveal something missing, but it won't give up. No, it keeps revealing itself to me. It's got rigor, it's got substance, and it kicks--and it kicks hard. But I've got these headphones on, and, I just realized there are tracks behind the tracks, a whole other quiet background layer that weaves in and out of the album. Kids, production commentary, and snippets cut in and out of songs. It's back there if you want it, behind all of that music.

These guys just wear out their gear: bass cabinets pushed to edge and the guitar is just smeared through the air—but with intense control, keyboard drawing the groove through the tight, heavy snare and thumping kick drum. It is just loud and heavy, and they never let go of it. There are points where there are multi-part harmonies, parts where drums and strings are in different meters but tight as a knot, parts where the song seems to decay and other parts where the song seems to evaporate, but it snaps back after it stretches out. And how about some nice, clean acoustic guitar intros? You can hear the pick on the strings and the sound of the fingers on the fretboard and something else going on behind it. Somebody walking around the room, or a belt buckle hitting the back of the body or something. Whatever it is, it makes the album a rawness that occasionally seems unedited, even though it is sharply produced and deliberate.

There is defiance in it that belongs in Rock, in the music and in the words. It thinks hard, it's sarcastic and ironic, it makes commentary--it talks about things that rock and art should talk about. They even sing about the color black.

If there is a hope for a new tomorrow, it is that somebody still remembers how to write rock music. Real music, real lyrics. Its got some throwback to it, and some of it seems like it could have been written in the early seventies. But that's whats to love about the album. It is is composed, played hard as hell, and has some words to back it up. It sounds like music sounded back when people still believed that music made a difference. Its has been years since rock and roll has been played on the radio. So long that radios may not really deserve it.

I don't know if a Bose Wave radio or an iPod dock is even capable of making some of these noises. Headphones: a must with a digital signal. But as rock goes, I would step out and suggest that this is worthy of a vinyl buy, if you are set up for that. Move your coffee table and slide a big chair in front of some fat, wood grained speakers, set the needle, dial it up so that your neighbors will notice, and get in. Music still matters, and a few people are still making it like they mean it. - BL

This is reposted from our blog, Please check us out if you dig this.

Ordinary Strangeness