Take Them On Your Own

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club ooze coolness: the jackets, the ties, the cigarettes, the bluesy guitar riffs, Peter Hayes’ hair. It’s in their bone marrow. So when Nick Jago exited the stage and Leah Shapiro took the drumsticks, fears she wouldn’t fit the dynamics of the group were justified.

Luckily, Miss Shapiro rocks the leather jacket she was supposed to fill. And she hits it hard from song number one, more precisely the title song off BRMC’s new studio effort Beat The Devil’s Tattoo. A heavy blues meet Americana infused pieces that makes one think of the band’s older Ain’t No Easy Way Out. It even comes, in your head, with the images of a video along the lines of the older song’s one. Its smoothness is fit for an introduction in the new BRMC that unfolds in front of us. Except that, the band has reached such a musical maturity that by now they have their own branded sound. And while the means to achieve the said sound are different, the end result is the same. BRMC are fucking back, you say with a smile to yourself and light another cigarette.

Surely, there are many songs on the album that would make worthy singles. But the one that underlines the idea stated at the end of the paragraph above is Conscience Killer. Another blow in the face that should and will be a wonderfully well received song at concerts. The coolness drips out of the speakers and with it the underlying sexual tension: guitar distorts that clash with angry drums. And one great opening line: “I’m a constant sinner”. Bad Blood takes things 180 degrees. Maybe not exactly 180, more like 150. In short, it’s the other face of BRMC: slow, seemingly introspective, calm. It’s almost a gem, a mood(y) song (listen to it carefully, the swirling distorts that take over the rest of the instruments).

War Machine is moodier: the lingering guitar notes, the heavy bass, the distorted vocals, all so rock’n’roll meets industrial. Here, the sexual tension is even harder to pin point, but easier to feel that on Conscience Killer. By this time, you’ve probably smoked a whole pack of cigarettes. And this song in particular urges for the listener to be surrounded by heavy amounts of smoke. Americana we said, and Sweet Feeling, another slow moment, embraces this genre blindly. And once more, BRMC’s undeniable talent shines. Plus, you get one of the most wonderful harmonicas ever.

Evol is, well, love. Pure love. It’s sweeping, emotional, dreamy and makes you do something you’d rarely (ok, never) do when talking about this band: go ‘Awwww’ when you hear the line “I’m waiting for you to say the words to make me stay”. It also hard not to think of the song’s sound as a typical BRMC one. Which is the same for Mama Taught Me Better: the distorts are once more impeccable, the drums badass and the bluesy vibes sexy as hell. It’s a controlled blast of energy that leaves you craving for more with every guitar chord.

And more comes in the shape of a bite of blues, River Styx: a raw chorus and heavy guitar riffs. Seriously, it’s one song you’d most likely hear in a southern bar. And once again, the sheer sexuality their music has fills your ears. Harmonicas and sweet acoustic guitars blend to give you The Toll, a song that probably has some of the best backing vocals ever provided by Courtney Jane. And this is how you thank the guys not only for existing but also for introducing you to a great singer.

Aya’s harsh guitars bring you back to the smoky bar: a love song, but it’s a painful love song. The lyrics really shine on this one. Just as heart-wrenching as the swirls of guitars. The vocals add to the effect: few times have you heard lines delivered so peacefully only to turn right away into sheer despair while not being cormy or overly theatrical at all. Shadow’s Keeper seems to be Evol’s smaller (but by no means less worthy) brother: the guitar sweeps everything in its way, the vocals are delivered with a touch of detachment that remind you of just how cool these guys are. But somewhere towards the end, the distort pedal is push to the maximum only to leave the impression of urgency and alert.

But instead of a blatant riot, BRMC are subversive: Long Way Down is one more (and the final) slow moment of the album. And this time, the boys go full throttle and use a piano, turning this piece into the darkest off the album. It’s further prove of how versatile and worthy of every blessing ever they are. And because this is BRMC we are talking about, they don’t tone it done in the end: the album outro is, to put it simple, a fucking masterpiece. Half-State, an epic ten-minutes song, has no mercy: it’s what BRMC are all about. There’s heavy sexuality underneath the layers of distortion, the vocals are smooth and bluesy, the bass falls heavy on the rest of the instruments, the overall effect is that of dreaminess. There are, in fact, endless ways to praise this instant classic. And if you think ten minutes is too long, wait until minute seven, when the guitars nearly explode and make it all unbelievably mind-blowing. By now, you’ve probably finished another three packs.

Beat The Devil’s Tattoo signals not only BRMC’s return but also a mature band that can’t be shaken by internal problems. It constantly delivers, not leaving you unsatisfied for even one second. Leah Shapiro is one great drummer, Peter Hayes and Robert Loven Been two musicians that should be quoted more often. And their new album is an instant classic, probably the band’s best.

*photo courtesy of BRMC's official site