The Black Keys
Just Got To Be
May the good Lord spare me from more drums/guitar duos. I've got nothing against them per se, but when it's a vehicle for lack of imagination rather than having a stab at something a bit different I tend to switch off.
Give The Black Keys a bassist and another guitar, and they'd be playing the kind of overdriven stoner blues that, say, Steppenwolf and Monster Magnet both churned out. I close my eyes and I picture bars in the middle of Nowhere, USA, filled with assorted hairy blokes in checked shirts and far too much denim nodding along with a kind of blissful approval at everything they hold dear (including their shotguns). There'll be coupla Harleys outside, but this ain't no drug-addled hippy trip. This is strictly piss-weak beer and maybe a fight before climbing into the pickup to get home-along.As one-paced as an ITV special with Robson Green, these two tracks blur by (and, significantly, into each other) in a kind of timewarped slow motion. Probably great if you're in Akron, OH, but the majority of us aren't, and could probably live without this plod across old, old, weary ground.