The Kills
Midnight Boom
Domino Records
By Mike Randall
In print, The Kills expound upon just about every garage rock cliché in the book. A gorgeous lead singer who spews attitude a mile a minute? Check. Usually clad in black? Check. A moniker that includes the word ‘the’? Check. A seemingly aloof guitarist fucking a supermodel? Check (Jamie Hince, aka Hotel, is tabloid fodder thanks to his relationship with Kate Moss). Whereas most bands that have a big personality away from the stage seem to use that as a supplement for delivering great records, The Kills’ Midnight Boom is one giant free pass allowing them to do and say whatever the hell they want.
Midnight Boom is the most groove-based Kills record to date. It’s more daring than anything they’ve ever done, but no less edgy. In fact, it’s probably a whole lot darker in texture than their previous output. The music is allowed to breathe here, so much so that it leaves enough room to smell the bourbon and the cigarettes in the air, whether or not the record is being listened to in some Lower East Side dive. The guitar lines are minimal, as sharp shotgun trills and bottom-end guitar are used sparingly. In conjunction and often in their place are touches of floating synth, throbbing bass lines, sprinkles of piano and irresistible hand claps that ebb and flow with singer VV’s (Alison Mosshart) whines, moans and roars.
VV and Hotel thrive off each other. When they trade lines, as they do on “U.R.A. Fever,” they sound like the perfect ying to the other’s yang. “We are a fever/We ain’t born typical,” they sing in unison. When they harmonize, Hotel provides the perfect gentle low-end to VV’s sass, almost like a passionate Thurston Moore-Kim Gordon combo. It’s cavernous new wave at times, smutty garage rock at others, but never dull.
Goading in the listener, baiting them to approach her if they’re tough enough for the challenge, VV is less straightforward than ever. She’s the kind of girl that could spit on you and you’d still find it just as sexy as if she threw you against a wall for a spontaneous make out session. “I’m sick of social graces/show your shark teeth,” she sings on “Cheap and Cheerful.” She has the range and capacity such that her voice can sound beautiful one verse, totally raw and frightening the next. When she sings “I want you to be crazy because you’re boring baby when you’re straight,” you get the sense that her man is moments away from being tossed to the curb because he’s not man enough, and there will be another gent waiting in his wake.
VV doesn’t let down her guard often, but when she does the results are stunning. “Black Balloon” is one of the few instances where she seems vulnerable, especially as her voice soars above the clouds, which are actually touches of piano during an almost new age-y break. “Goodnight Bad Morning” finds her singing “What a beautiful state we’re in” over a hypnotic piano and guitar arpeggio intended to lessen the blow of the previous night’s debauchery. She even gets a little playful on “What New York Used to Be,” which finds Hotel somehow turning his guitar into a pulsating synthesizer.
“Am I the only sour cherry on your fruit stand?” VV sings during the exceptionally catchy “Sour Cherry,” a prime example of how The Kills have added dimension both musically and lyrically. Even if she weren’t the only cherry, she’d still be the one you’d select because she’d make you choose her. On the surface, The Kills seem like they’d be a dime a dozen, but fortunately records aren’t listened to on the surface. This one goes deeper than most, and no one will have to make you listen – you’ll just want to.
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