The Black Keys Albums (5)
'Attack & Release'
Release Date 3/28/2008
Tracks 11
Label Cooperative
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Back in 2002, it seemed easy to discern which of the Midwestern minimalist blues-rock duos was which: the White Stripes were the art-punks, naming albums after Dutch art movements, while the Black Keys were the nasty primitives, bashing out thrilling, raw records like their 2002 debut The Big Come Up and its 2003 follow-up Thickfreakness. Six years later, the duos appear to have switched camps, as Jack White leads the Stripes down a path of obstinate traditionalism while the Black Keys get out, way out, on their fifth album, Attack & Release. Evidently, their 2004 mini-masterpiece Rubber Factory represented the crest of their brutal blues wave, as ever since singer/guitarist Dan Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney have receded from the gnarled precision of their writing and the big, brutal blues thump, they started to float into the atmosphere with their 2006 EP-length tribute to Junior Kimbrough, Chulahoma. Ever since then, the Black Keys have emphasized waves of sound over either ballast or song, something that should be evident from the choice of Danger Mouse as the producer of Attack & Release, a seemingly unlikely pair that found common ground in the form of Ike Turner. Danger Mouse worked with the rock & roll renegade when he produced the Gorillaz's Demon Days and the plan was to have the Black Keys cut an album with Ike but Turner's death turned the project into a full-fledged Keys album. That's the official story, anyway, but the timeline doesn't quite seem to fit -- Ike died December 12, 2007 and a finished copy of Attack & Release was out in February, which is an awfully short turnaround to complete an album -- nor does the sound of the album seem to fit that timeline, either, as it's elliptical, open-ended, and reliant on the spacy sonics the Black Keys have sketched out since Rubber Factory, so it's hard to imagine where Turner would have fit into this. But it's not hard at all to see how avant guitarist Marc Ribot fits into this elastic mix, as this is the kind of restless, textural roots-aware rock reminiscent of the spirit, if not quite the sound, of Elvis Costello and Tom Waits, two mavericks Ribot has played with in years past. This shift to sound over song has been so gradual for the Black Keys that Ribot's cameo doesn't seem intrusive, nor does Danger Mouse's hazy production feel forced upon the band, it's filled with details so sly they're almost imperceptible. As always, Danger Mouse encourages the band to intensify what's already there, and so Attack & Release willfully drifts, as dreamy, artfully sonic sculptures are punctured by Auerbach's rumbling guitars and Carney's clattering drums. But where the interplay of the Auerbach and Carney always felt immediate in their earliest work, there's a bit of a remove here, with the riffs used as paint brushes instead of blunt objects. The same can be said of the songs, where even the most immediate tunes -- "Psychotic Girl," the B-side "Remember When" -- don't grab and hold like those on the group's earliest records, and they're not really growers either, as the point here is not the individual tunes but rather the greater picture, as everything here weaves together to create a mood: one that shifts but doesn't stray, one that's nebulous but not formless, one that's evocative but not haunting. To be sure, it's an accomplishment and one that showcases the Black Keys' deepening skills but at times it's hard not to miss how the duo used to grab a listener by the neck and not let go. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
'Magic Potion'
Release Date 1/1/2006
Tracks 11
Label Universal Australia
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Akron's the Black Keys have jumped labels again with Magic Potion. Beginning on their own Alive label, the band established itself internationally with Thickfreakness and Rubber Factory. They appear now with their Nonesuch debut -- they share a label with everyone from Pat Metheny and Sam Phillips to Toumani Diabaté and Stephin Merritt. Fans needn't worry that the Black Keys being on a label distributed by Warner has done anything to their sound. Magic Potion is gritty, raw, immediate and sludgy. It was recorded at the band's studios in Akron, and the only real difference is that they've become even better at what they do. Here are 11 tunes rooted in blues and riff-heavy rock, with only guitar and drums ripping through them like a loose power cable in a thunderstorm. Check out the wildly rockist riff that is at the heart of the album's opener "Just Got to Be," or the wily shambolic blues in "Your Touch." If anything, Magic Potion reminds the listener of the late great Red Devils King King except they have a deeper country, south-of-the-Mason-Dixon-line feel to them, even on a ballad such as "You're the One," which feels like it's barely being held together by Dan Auerbach's voice, which unifies the guitar and Patrick Carney's drums. "Strange Desire" is an electric-acid-blues moan disguised as a ballad, whereas "Just a Little Heat" inverts the riff from Led Zeppelin's "Little Loving Maid " to offer a wide-open howl of distorted guitar and a slippery snare and cymbals crash. For those who feel that the blues have nothing to offer in the 21st century -- especially electric blues, which has spawned countless cookie-cutter, slick deceptions disguised as the real thing -- Magic Potion should satisfy deeply. Here is a future blues that comes right from the groin of history, reinterpreted through garage rock, alcohol, and rage: just check out "Modern Times." In the slow drawling burn, one can hear Junior Kimbrough's ghost possessing Auerbach. "Elevator" closes the set on a feedback-drenched, minimal Delta blues that has more to do with the cagey antics of Charley Patton and Lightnin' Hopkins -- and R.L. Burnside, too -- than with either the White Stripes or Ronnie Earl. This is vulgar music, completely unsentimental or nostalgic but with a deep, wild, and tenacious heart; it's spooky, un-caged, and frighteningly descriptive of our time and place. It's been a long time since the majors put out a record this savage. This is the door to the blues in 2006; hold on to your hips because they will begin to twitch. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
It's easy to think of the Black Keys as the flip side of the White Stripes. They both hail from the Midwest, they both work a similar garage blues ground and both have color-coded names. If they're not quite kissing cousins, they're certainly kindred spirits, and they're following surprisingly similar career arcs, as the Keys' third album, Rubber Factory, is neatly analogous to the Stripes' third album breakthrough, White Blood Cells. Rubber Factory finds the duo expanding, stretching, and improving, coming into its own as a distinctive, original, thoroughly great rock & roll band. With 2003's Thickfreakness, guitarist/vocalist Dan Auerbach and drummer/producer Patrick Carney delivered on the promise of a raw, exciting debut by sharpening their sound and strengthening the songwriting, thereby upping the ante for their next record, and Rubber Factory doesn't disappoint. Instead, it surprises in a number of delightful ways, redefining the duo without losing the essence of the band. For instance, the production has more shades than either The Big Come Up or Thickfreakness -- witness the creepy late-night vibe of the opening "When the Lights Go Out" or how the spare, heartbroken, and slide guitar-laden "The Lengths" sounds like it's been rusted over -- but it's also harder, nastier, and uglier than those albums, piled with truly brutal, gut-level guitar. Yet through these sheets of noise, vulnerability pokes through, not just on "The Lengths," but in a lazy, loping, terrific version of the Kinks' "Act Nice and Gentle." And, like their cover of the Beatles' "She Said, She Said" on their debut, "Act Nice and Gentle" illustrates that even if the Black Keys have more legit blues credentials than any of their peers, they're nevertheless an indie rock band raised with not just a knowledge of classic rock, but with excellent taste and, most importantly, an instinct for what makes great rock & roll. They know that sound matters, not just how a band plays but how a band is recorded, and that blues sounds better when it's unvarnished, which is why each of their records feels more like a real blues album than anything cut since the '60s. But they're not revivalists, either. They've absorbed the language of classic rock and the sensibility of indie rock -- they're turning familiar sounds into something nervy and fresh, music that builds on the past yet lives fearlessly in the moment. On a sheer gut level, they're intoxicating and that alone would be enough to make Rubber Factory a strong listen, but what makes it transcendent is that Auerbach has developed into such a fine songwriter. His songs have enough melodic and lyrical twists to make it seem like he's breaking rules, but his trick is that he's doing this within traditional blues-rock structures. He's not just reinvigorating a familiar form, he's doing it without a lick of pretension; it never seems as if the songs were written, but that they've always existed and have just been discovered, which is true of any great blues song. Carney gives these songs the production they deserve -- some tunes are dense and heavy with guitars, others are spacious and haunting -- and the result is the most exciting and best rock & roll record of 2004. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
While the vast majority of post-punk bands who have an obvious taste for the blues seem to enjoy taking the style apart and messing around with the bits and pieces, the Black Keys are the (relative) traditionalists within the subgenre. With their two-piece, no-bass format, there's no room for clutter or wank, and the raunchy fuzz of Dan Auerbach's guitar (and drummer Patrick Carney's production) owes more to the Gories/Blues Explosion/White Stripes school of aural grime than anything else, but look past all that and the Black Keys are a straight-up blues band who could probably cut an album for Alligator if they were willing to clean up their act and fill out the lineup. And Alligator would doubtless be glad to have 'em -- the Black Keys's wail is hot, primal, and heartfelt, and Auerback's lean but meaty guitar lines and room-filling vocals drag the blues into the 21st century through sheer force of will without sounding like these guys are in any way mocking their influences. In short, if you're looking for irony, you're out of luck; if you want to hear a rock band confront the blues with soul, muscle, and respect, then Thickfreakness is right up your alley. Points added for the fact that the Black Keys performed, recorded, and produced Thickfreakness all by their lonesome in a single day -- further proof these guys are not messing around. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
As minimal two-man blues-rock bands go, this has to be near the top of the heap. The problem with minimal two-man blues-rock outfits (and there have been more of them than you think) is that they're, well, usually too minimal, with thin garage sound and a shortage of variety. The Black Keys' sound, impressively, is not too thin (though it is garage-ish), and there's enough deft incorporation of funk, soul, and hard rock into the harsh juke joint-ish core to avoid monotony. Most importantly, Dan Auerbach has a genuinely fine, powerful blues voice, sometimes approximating a white, slightly smoother Howlin' Wolf (particularly on the opener, "Busted"). Auerbach's a good guitarist, too, conjuring suitably harsh and busy (and sometimes heavily reverbed) riffs out of what sounds like a cheap but effectively harsh amp. Patrick Carney's drums might be the cruder component of this two-man band, but they keep the sound earthy without sounding sloppily punkish for the hell of it, as too many such groups searching for the blues-punk fusion do. The very occasional insertion of hip-hop snippets seems neither here nor there, and the cover of the Beatles' "She Said, She Said" seems like an odd choice. But overall it's quite cool raunchy electric blues with more vigor and imagination than similarly raw, elderly Southern juke joint artists who came into vogue starting in the 1990s. And it's way fresher than the standard bar band blues-rockers with slicker execution and more reverence for blues clichés. ~ Richie Unterberger, All Music Guide
