Hello Sons of the Revolution

Unlike those purveyors of grocery store porn, I actually listened to the new Black Crowes album before commenting on it here. I wouldn't call this a full-fledged review, more of a collection of initial impressions. At first listen, it sounds good; a rich, organic yet not overwhelming vibe, a marriage of Amorica -- still their finest hour, methinks -- and Three Snakes and One Charm, with a smidgen of Zeppelinesque tight-but-loose tossed in the mixture for good measure.

From the slow blues march of Walk Believer Walk to the undulating cosmic rave-up of Wee Who See the Deep (with some groovy and rockin' guitar interplay between Rich Robinson and new guy Luther Dickinson) to the ballad Oh, Josephine (think of a slightly more hopeful Girl From A Pawnshop), Warpaint showcases all of the band's influences and strengths, with a lyrical theme of a possible future, of arrival at something better, threading throughout the album's eleven tracks. A few songs aren't as immediately strong as the rest -- true of any album -- but that's why one must let a new disc simmer in the emotional and aesthetic crock pot for awhile before coming to anything resembling a conclusion.

Warpaint carries a warm, natural feel, a pretty goddamn good release by an experienced band who've benefited from an infusion of new blood. I don't know if it'll win over any converts to the cause, but who cares. They've got their thing and we've got ours, and I think we can all move forward without stabbing each other in the gut with rusty kitchen knives.