El Camino was simultaneously more sinewy but somehow louder than the Black Keys’ previous album, Brothers. It was a gutsy thing, as they didn’t so much try to follow up the Black Keys’ most acclaimed release as feel around on its outer edges. There’s less blues, and more brawn – something that’s laid out perfectly on the lead single and opening track “Lonely Boy.”
Brothers tended to deftly balance the modern rock and Delta styles that have long obsessed the Black Keys, coming off like a chest-bumping celebration of summer. But El Camino arrived on Dec. 6, 2011 as more of an angry shove back against winter. Gassed up and ready to roll, this follow up was on a serious tear from the first.
Tracks like “Dead and Gone,” “Sister” and “Hell of a Season” found singer/guitarist Dan Auerbach continuing to explore a newly discovered velvety lover-man vocal range, but drummer Patrick Carney remained a kinetic wonder – creating these shotgun-retort tempos that threaten to shake everything else loose. “Gold on the Ceiling” had all the gallop of a gravy-dripping Southern rock tune, while “Money Maker” moved from an angular guitar signature (one that probably brought a twinkle to Jimmy Page’s eye) to this squalling, pedal-stomping solo.
A weeping slide hailed the beginning of “Run Right Back,” this dusty-booted antique sound that draws perhaps the clearest line back to this duo’s more recent blues-based explorations with returning producer Danger Mouse. Before long, though, “Run Right Back” became another towering paean to the unfettered joy of a window-rattling ostinato, taking its cue from the relentless propulsion of north Mississippi acts like the late Junior Kimbrough.
There’s a similar transformation on “Little Black Submarines,” which began with a quick exhale of mournful recollection. That initial corn-row gospel feel was quickly immolated, however, with this fast-paced outburst of nervy guitars, howling vocals and broiling rhythms.
From a deliriously inventive reduction of Smokey Robinson’s atmospheric trills, these piercing post-punk riffs and sock-hop beats on the stand-out track “Stop Stop,” to the arena-rock anthem “Nova Baby,” the musical needle just vibrated on the right side of the speedometer. The Black Keys then settle into a rumbling menace for “Mind Eraser,” which closed El Camino with a sparky sense of unfinished business.
That’s actually appropriate since, in the end, this record didn’t feel like the creative breakthrough that Brothers was, so much as a continuation of its essential experiments. Turned up to 11, that is.
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i’ll be honest, i’m not a music critic and i don’t have a clue what half the phrases in this review mean, but this album kicks ass.
That was, actually, the entirety of my first draft for this review: Kicks ass. Then I fleshed it out a bit.