Ha Harr! The influence of the Stones is still alive and well, dragging that grunged-out rhythm and blues sound firmly into the new millenium with 'Lie Lover Lie' from LA's THE BLOOD ARM.
Stonking great riffs and a weighty piano hold down this celebration of out n' out rock n' roll, and the blistering guitar work makes up the lion's share of my first impression as this nod to teenage sexual awareness begins to take shape. The title is loosely taken from the refrain of a white-hot 'Accidental Soul':
“Every Lover Lies.................Sometimes”
It sounds like a struggle for recognition, and it's anthemic enough to make you take notice, as it shifts and breathes in time to the rhythms of lurve! There's a tongue in cheek side to this of course, but the opportunity to throw big shapes will not be lost on this lot!
The cream of this altogether well observed crop includes the piano driven sledge of anti-ode 'Angela' which solidly hits the spot as hard as the keys are being pummelled, and the so-true war cry of 'Do I Have Your Attention', a track that blows out the eardrums without so much as a pause for thought. The self-destructive stream of consciousness is underpinned by more head-on-the-keys insanity, and a sumptuous bout of six string craziness that winds itself up to a freefalling last gasp attempt to unravel the mysteries of human chemistry.
One simply cannot argue with the sweeping familiarity of 'The Chasers' either, with those spoken asides and the retro RnB feel now in full effect. If you're Irish, you might be put in mind of The Golden Horde.
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Slowing down with the country tinged road movie 'Going To Arizona' to reveal some gentle harmonies merely adds to the sense of wild abandon – I'm not fooled, merely bracing myself for the imploding eardrum stuff that's to follow
That comes in the shape of acidic soul-driven fireball 'P.S. I Love You But I Don't Miss You' - it's insane psychosis for the teenage generation, but delivered from a group that still unashamedly refer to the women collectively as 'Bayyy-beeehhhh'!! You gotta laugh, but the abuse the guitar cops for amounts to one hell of a sonic assault as the cycle of self-destruction pervades over everything else. They must have been a whisker away from smashing the studio up!
If you (ahem) still listen to Mick Jagger music, and bad-mouth your country, then this monster pitched Tasmanian Devil of an album will be right up your street. The energy is staggering, and the pure devotion to the devil's own groove is mightily demonstrated throughout.
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