I lived in Cleveland during the halcyon days following the release of Ohio’s own Black Keys’ critically acclaimed album, The Big Come Up. There was a feeling in the air that the post-punk/garage rock revival might have some legs and the ‘Keys were releasing album after incredible album at an astounding pace. These were exciting times.

As an introduction to the band, let me say that the Black Keys are absolutely authentic. Their ensemble consists of an economical electric guitar, vocals (Dan Auerbach) and drums (Patrick Carney), but their sound is absolutely colossal. Eschewing chichi L.A. studios, they produce their own recordings in Patrick’s basement using ancient equipment and by hanging microphones over water pipes. Hey, Sgt. Pepper’s was recorded on a 4-track. When that wasn’t gritty enough for them, they laid down sessions in an abandoned Akron, OH rubber factory for an album of the same name (2004). If they sound like the genuine article to you, it’s because they are.

Auerbach’s singing is tasteful, seemingly effortless, and dripping with soul. His guitar playing is influenced by Junior Kimbrough, who helped pioneer the use of syncopation between low and high strings on the guitar. This is part of how they can “get away” with such thrifty use of instrumentation; there is something melodic and interesting to hear at all tonal ranges. Even though he is a rhythm guitar wizard who has written some of the most rocking guitar licks since the ‘Stones in the early ’70s, he seems as uncomfortable with leading as Keith — not that flashy playing is called for here. Volume and dynamics are used as a tool along with a palette of vintage fuzz tones. It doesn’t get heavier than a Russian Big Muff Pi through a Marshall stack. Carney’s playing isn’t fancy, but his rhythms are thoughtful and original ornamentations on the groove. Above all, his penchant for force combined with his tendency to linger on the skins yields a performance that is in many ways more concussive than percussive. For all their piss and vinegar, though, they can still play a ballad that is touchingly sentimental.

I wouldn’t call them recording artists. They certainly have an outstanding discography, but their recordings are excellent because they capture so much of the energy of a live performance. For example, the exceptionally good Thickfreakness (2003) was recorded in less than 12 hours. Still, as good as these recordings are, you have to see The Black Keys live to appreciate the full energy that is such a critical dimension of their music.

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