The Black Keys- Brothers (****)

This is the lead for a review of the new album by The Black Keys.

This review is for an album named Brothers, and the no-frills trapping of its album art, much like this lead, is unapologetic and straightforward. In essence, this review hitches its wagon to The Black Keys’ subtle sense of humor, but only because it works so well. In fact, guitarist Dan Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney think it works so well that they’re hoping the directness of their album cover can focus their listeners in a very specific way.

They’re hoping you’ll forget about expecting a certain sound from them.

They’re hoping to cultivate a certain mindset with such a stark album cover, an album cover that quantifies what listeners are about to hear as well as dispelling extraneous images/notions surrounding the band. It’s a bold move to distance yourself from a musical identity you’ve worked so hard to achieve, but then again it’s also a calculated one. It’s also fair to say The Black Keys wouldn’t attempt it if they had mediocre songs.

Thankfully, Brothers is anything but mediocre.

A 15-track journey into the heart of roots blues, Brothers finds The Black Keys more obsessed with melody than ever before. And rather than slamming out big rock aggression in a basement, they’ve moved the party to the cemetery where the results are as spooky as they are soulful. It begins with the tense thump of “Everlasting Light,” where Auerbach’s singing twists into its highest register amidst sugary backing vocals. From there, The Black Keys enlist Danger Mouse to produce the lead off single “Tighten Up,” a bouncy mid-tempo number with fluttering fills, sharp upstrokes, and jaunt whistles.

What makes it all compelling, however, is that The Black Keys have been able to add subtly to their songs.

Carney’s drumming is still commanding, and Auerbach’s voice still grabs your attention, but they’ve been able to find different musical avenues to make their audiences ache alongside them. Even the one song that sounds closest to their previous material (the squealing and shuffling “She’s Long Gone”) subverts the traditional Black Keys battle plan by emphasizing fretwork rather than feedback.

In other words, they realized that the blues has a diverse offering to draw from, and you can’t always play with the amps cranked to 11.

This is the main reason the Keys decided to be coy with their cover: Brothers has thrown the blues-bashing-baby out with the bathwater. Instead, The Black Keys made an album focused on texture, replacing their stacks of crunchy distortion with warm bass, deep drums, and phaser soaked guitar lines. “Too Afraid To Love You” features Carney’s punchy hip-hop stomp alongside loopy bass work and nightmare inspire guitar sonics. Elsewhere, “Next Girl” retains the Keys’ signature vocal/guitar call and response, but with leads that envelope ear drums rather than sear them off. However, all this tunefulness hasn’t exactly made The Black Keys soft. The sludgy mire and soupy lead work on “Black Mud” proves Auerbach and Carney still know how the kick out a killer groove, even without the dissonant crunch.

Overall, such risks end up creating a murky and immersive experience, completing the molting process The Black Keys began on 2008’s Attack & Release. Additionally, this shift in their sound has allowed unique luxuries on Brothers, most noticeably, in their lyrical content.

On Brothers, Auerbach no longer seems tethered to the extreme ends of the emotional spectrum, often times doing away with his slash and burn catharsis in favor of earnest storytelling. “Ten Cent Pistol” is twisting revenge tale (“She hit/Him with/A ten cent pistol/Because/He ruined/Her name…”) while “Unknown Brother” explores a bond extending beyond the grave (“Though I never met you/And we spoke not a word/I’ll never forget you/From the stories that I’ve heard…”). All in all, Auerbach’s writing is in top form, engaging his listeners while paying homage to his blues heroes.

Still, spelling all that out might not be enough for some fans.

In fact, most fans are of the “talk is cheap” variety. They tend to be far more interested in whether or not a new album from The Black Keys will measure up their standards, rather than the band’s. They’ll be the first to point out how the front half of the disc is stock piled with the catchier numbers, and how the out of place funk on “Sinister Kid” just sounds goofy. They’ll bemoan that the Keys sold out, and that the only blues worth yammering about is their own as they cry for something louder.

But they’ll also be the ones missing the point, and the ones that the album cover aims to warn the most. Brothers has shown that Auerbach and Carney aren’t interested in catering to the public. Instead, they seem focused in pushing their sound to its utmost limits. Which means that sometimes, they cannot compromise their vision, even if that means scaling back on the grit just a smidge.

In that sense, it’s all the more fitting that The Black Keys titled their album Brothers. It’s their way of saying, “Love us for who we are, like brothers making decisions you aren’t comfortable with, or don’t love us at all.” It’s direct, and to the point, so you’ll focus on the important task of analyzing music made by The Black Keys.

If nothing else, that’s the reason this review of Brothers got written in the first place.

Key Cuts: Next Girl, She’s Long Gone, Too Afraid To Love You

Sounds Like: Modern Guilt (Beck), Attack & Release (The Black Keys), Sunday Nights: The Songs Of Junior Kimbrough (Junior Kimbrough)

Click on the artwork to sample Brothers for yourself!