The Return of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

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Since man invented the guitar and later electrified, the rock ’n’ roll has helped us to build a shelter for pains, itches, euphoria and ardors of the soul. Whether it’s dancing, singing, shouting, rolling or stamping, we have found a balm in this music is primitive and exciting. Spend the time not only to enjoy it, but create it and share it with the people of the world as a way of life, is a work that wears off and leaves the bodies full of scratches, the jackets full of holes and the cemeteries full of broken dreams.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club is serving twenty years have been developed by two progenitors indisputable: Peter Hayes (guitar, harmonica and vocals) and Robert Levon Been (bass and vocals), who since the release of their first full-length (B. R. M. C., 2001) have been able to build a solid career, though, as all have also been shaken. On the road left side to an erratic drummer (Nick Jago), but they got a shiny and very powerful engine of blonde hair and staring (See Shapiro). During this time they have released eight albums, and long-lasting pair of EP, testify to the perseverance and stubbornness, but mostly the love of the craft of making songs and dress of black leather.

If you are looking for an innovative recording that challenge your intellect by making use of complicated rhythmic patterns, dissonant harmonies, textures, envelopes, and design sound that will make you lose your balance, I recommend that do not waste your time reading this. This is an album of guitars dirty (though not as much), rhythms of a dry battery, low fat and raucous, all of it driven on time by a set of twin voices which is already a hallmark of the house.

Wrong Creatures opens with a mantra of “DDF” which refers directly to the former band Suicide (yes, those of Alan Vega and his Ghost Rider) and that serves as a mere welcome, and planting the doubt that begins to be answered with the first bars of “Spook”, a song typical of the band that tells us that we are in the right place, because all the elements are in place, and perhaps (and only perhaps) so is a little forgotten. The following cut, “King Of Bones”, is almost danceable, almost disco, but it has fangs and bites the instánte. “Haunt” is the first “slump” of the album in mood: slow piece that starts very soft and, at times, leaves us to listen to a tired Nick Cave playing with Tito Larriva, while we sing to the despair and the ghosts.

Two cuts are especially the spinal column, and they deserve a separate paragraph. The first (“Echo”) is already a new anthem for the group, because the calm initial (that is reminiscent of the Velvet Underground) mutates into a wall of noise and emotion that moves the listener to levels of epidermal, all coexisting in a song perfectly-structured owes much to the grouping scottish Mogwai. The second (“Ninth Configuration”) is a creature of high flight that can be misleading, because some careless people already have jumped out in search of dizziness more immediate. Here is where I recommend you be patient, because the reward at the end is so exquisite and exciting.

“Question of Faith” is a spell that might well be interpreted by The Wolves in their moments more desert-like, with Jesus And Mary Chain guest. “Calling Them All Away,” would seem to be a cut discreet and requires patience, but we are again dealing with an animal seemingly dark and psychedelic that shows your true and bright face slowly. It all depends on how much it dares one to approach.

“Little Thing Gone Wild” is the awakening, the explosion and the affront. This was the first song that showed in his return last year (in the Festival Hypnosis was crazy) and reminds us that although time has passed, first of all, we are facing a band of true rock ’n’ roll. “Circus Bazooko” is a curiosity in the tone of Question Mark & The Mysterians and The Black Angels that could well look like a decent side B. “Carried From the Start” is a semi-gospel high-flying that prepares us for the inevitable. “All Rise” closes the album with the bowels open, with their pianos and strings that might bother the most hard, but is more akin to what he did to Chelsea Wolfe on her Pain Is Beauty and even Agaetis Byrjun of Sigur Rós.

Wrong Creatures it’s an album that speaks to us of death, of loss of faith and of the confusions and satisfactions that represents having given everything and to have been, if anything, with a little encouragement and a couple of memories. It is a journey of little less than an hour in which various characters tell us their stories of ghosts, sunrises and defeats, but also reminds us that even lying on the floor, and after twenty years, we can still bite and scream until there is nothing left. It is an animal of rough skin, bones, solid and aggressive spirit, which shows the marks of time and the wounds.