Saturday, 01 December 2007
K L Poore
Everything that was horrible about this month's listening experience
(think Duran Duran's new pile on the carpet) was suddenly washed clean.
I put on The Black and White Album by the Hives, turned it up (in this
instance “up” means really, really, really loud), and 30 seconds into
the opener, “Tick Tick Boom,” all that awfulness was forgotten. I was
jumping around the living room and wishing my legs were still skinny
enough for a pair of black stove pipe pants.
The Black and White Album is so good, in that fuzz-drenched guitar,
pounding caveman drums, “the cops are here” garage anthem way, I've
forgiven the friends who recommended Red Carpet Mess. This is the way
it's supposed to be. This is rock music. It's as loud and snotty as
your sister's best friend. It's cruising in dad's car with only a
learner's permit. It's singing in front of your friends even ...