The Critical Asshole: Listening to...

I'll cut to the chase: it's not very good; Queens is an honest to goodness "good" band too, which is why this is so difficult to say.

On Era Vulgaris, the fifth release from the stoner-supergroup with the ever-revolving lineup led by resident scary asshole Josh Homme, the group (I'm guessing) has churned out a factory made, run of the mill, rock album. It's overall, an unimpressive, bland effort, and I probably wouldn't pay more than 8 or 9 bucks for the disc. It's just...a little "out of place."

Era Vulgaris seems out of place in the sense that, while it does challenge the listener, it doesn't do so in any sort of innovative way. Queens play rock music. period; and while 2002's Songs for the Deafwas a listener favorite, not much has changed then besides a mukier recording style and an SNL stint featuring Will Ferrell on cowbell ("I've got a fever!").

This album is far from bad, like I said, it's just not very good. The tunes starting the album sound like the members of the group had disparate ideas of what the shape of the album and the individual tracks should be ("I'm Designer" and "Misfit Love"). Others are distrubingly simple, but perfectly acceptable. I would have accepted a full album of tunes like "Sick, Sick, Sick." No matter who you are, you understand rock music. you may not like it, or it may offend the core of your very being, but it's easy to understand.

The great thing about Queens of the Stone Age was their "scary" factor. Seriously. The video for "No One Knows" from Songs was a rude awakening from my Beatles-filled days right after graduating from college. Queens of the Stone Age is music for a slasher movie. It's your worst fears made very real and tangible. For a kid like me that's seen everything, Queens is a sincerely frightening band (for the record, I'd bet on Homme against any of those pussies from Slipknot).

I suppose the problem is a lack of a coordinated effort. It's had to be scared of the monster under the bed and the Boogey Man in the clset when the two can't work together to arch their shadows in the most effective way.

I recommend one song to obtain from this album:

"River in the Road" - a galloping, epicly dark, brooding tune. Reminds me of a sedate, more earnest version of Iron Maiden.

The Fantastic Four vs. The Universe

Part of the joy of being a comic book geek is the liquidity of stories and characters at your disposal. In this alternate universe, nearly anything goes. You can ascribe nearly any superpower to your heroes and villains as well as being able to alter the, thought previously to be immutable, laws of nature to nearly any degree. What is by far the most interesting is super hero "match-ups" in which the authors and artists combine characters from completely different series, or different comic lines all together. Superman could battle Batman. The Silver Surfer could take on the X-Men. The Green Goblin could have a love affair with Vicky Vail. Anything is possible. Being able to see your favorite super hero matched up, or against, an unexpected figure is a unique delight as it tends to reveal more about your favorite hero than you could see paired up against the usual villains and taking place in the usual metropolis or Gotham City; such is the case with rock'n'roll.

The story and makeup of the group is interesting (as most superhero origins tend to be). Three brothers, Caleb, Jared, and Nathan Followill gain life experience following their evangelical Pentecostal minister father Leon Followill across the Midwest during 80's and 90's with Neil Young and the Rolling Stones blaring from the car stereo the entire way. The age of manhood dawns upon them and the brothers plus first cousin Matthew Followill on lead guitar form the Kings of Leon, both a tribute to their father and a stab at perpetuating a rootsy, southern-boogie type of image on the garage-rock scene. I was unimpressed by their debut Youth and Young Manhood. It didn't sound like anything I couldn't get from Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Allman Brothers Band, or the Black Crowes. Their sophomore effort Aha Shake Heartbeat was only a little better, taking more from the Neil Young noise school of rock than their usual mush-mouthed southern rock.

Which brings us to Because Of The Times, named after a Pentecostal conference the brothers Followill attended with their father when they were kids. The Times places the brothers not in the honkey-tonk of the rural deep south, but rather in a cold, euro-tinged back room where they sit along side the likes of Echo & the Bunnymen, Joy Division, and Television. I suppose, surprisingly, it's a pretty incredible place for them to be. Such jumps as this of artistic direction have not worked out so well for others (See Ryan Adams's Rock'n'Roll--an album which I actually kind of liked).

The opener, "Knocked Up," seems like more classic Kings of Leon in style and form (save for the 7 minute length) than any of the other tunes. The album, to it's credit is subtle (much like clues given to a super hero's alter ego) in it's introduction to this new Kings of Leon that a longtime fan would be unfamiliar with. New cuts which lean toward this new direction "Charmer," "My Party," and "McFearless" are balanced with more traditional non-invasive tunes such as "Fans," "The Runner," and "Camaro" bringing the disc full circle to remind the listener that although one may dip occasionally into a dark pool, the Kings still reign as a great, traditional southern rock outfit.

Because Of The Times brings to light a certain fun fact about those that are "album" people. It's fun to see your favoite band change, develop, and grow. it's even better when they get...well...better, and when we get to hear them perform a style of rock that we would have never expected, well then...this issue is collectible.

Where others have failed, KOL has succeeded due to a perception of sincerity that most people would approach a group like this with. This doesn't necessarily mean that the Followill boys are sincere, but at least they put on a good show (and again, on that note, Ryan Adams has never claimed to have a sincere feeling in his entire life...asshole). Because Of The Times is your favorite superhero waging and winning a battle against two of the worst villains from a completely different universe: boredom and predictability. Because of the Times totally and completely wins.

Download from iTunes, please, at your earliest convenience:

"On Call" - Romantic and accessible, easily a proud and deserved single worth depressing the "Repeat" button.
"My Party" - highlights the strength of the drummer. Cool studio generated sounds. Would be interested to hear this live. Like a boiling, hot riot.
"True Love Way" - Heartbreaking and humble. Lot's of good "Southern Man" references placed in a "post-punk" context.
"Ragoo" - a totally winning and virtuosic track about (of all things) class warfare. A total and complete success.

I have to admit: today, for a brief moment--I was elated. I was elated because the heiress of the Hilton Hotel fortune was ordered (and forcefully moved, I might add) to return to jail to fulfill the rest of a 45 day sentence for violating a probation ordered by the court for reckless driving. She was intially released by the sheriff to serve the remainder of her sentence under house arrest. The original sentencing judge, affronted by the change of custody ordered by Sheriff Lee Baca, returned the scales of justice to their rightful place. Ladies and gentlemen...this is a good Friday indeed.

Alright--I was with you all along until this.

1. Two-piece, garage-rock, guitar/drums outfit.

Ok...not too bad.

2. Lead man getting into scuffle at clubs with other bands.

Sounds like Rock'n'Roll to me.

3. Ambiguous, slightly incestuous relationship between lead man and drummer.

Alright...I'll bite.

4. Icky Thump.

Now this just doesn't make any goddamn sense.

Buyer beware. The album is set to be released on the 19th of this month, but I think I'd rather turn up the AC a bit instead of spending my $10 bucks on guitar noise crap that's come from the ass of Jack White.

Shame on you, Jack White. Shame.