One thing can be said for drum machines, they don't take an age to get set up, yet still sauntering on at a relatively late (ish) time THE KILLS start out with typical menacing intent despite the Forum's half full capacity.
Hotel and VV have a dynamic that does nothing to inhibit a dangerous fascination. As he skulks and snaps with all the automated movement of a Dalek, VV half storms, stumbles her way across stage in a state of sultry, struggled control. Coupled with the backdrop of portentous guitar scrapings and the dull thud of the drum loop that acts as the not so silent partner, it's an ideology both enthralling and intimidating.
With their own dirty rock mythology The Kills do little to explain anything, instead, choosing to back it up with flickering guitar barbs, lupine vocals and as anxious and murky sound as humanly possible. 'The Good Ones' sounds like a twilight cruise of the Vegas red light district, whilst the disjointed riff and VV's pouring vocals on 'No wow' do little to soothe the spirit but at least she might get some closure.
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The simplicity to their ethos that has served them well and, two albums in, it's not unusual that questions regarding their direction have only just begun. After reinventing the notion of the no frills sound, they've amped up and electrified and despite a vigorous sound the grating edge is somewhat vacant. Sure it's filthier but it promises more chic acceptance than bar room brawls.
Fuck it, that's evolution but despite 'No Wow's dirty industrial grounding, it takes 'Fried my little brains' with it's pulsating electro bass thump facelift and aggravated guitar shreds to remind you that no matter what, The Kills can still occupy that melancholic inch in your mind.
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