New Fang — Them Crooked Vultures
#365Songs: March 16
I don’t usually write my #365Songs essays with any particular agenda in mind, other than to just encourage people to check out great songs they might not be familiar with.
But this one’s for Smitty, specifically.
Smitty does not like Dave Grohl.
Them Crooked Vultures contains Dave Grohl.
Ergo, Smitty does not like Them Crooked Vultures. Or so I presume.
But here’s the thing.
The Them Crooked Vultures album was actually excellent.
Probably the best way to try and make your way into liking the album is to go inthrough the respective three members.
We can start with Mr. Grohl.
Yes, he’s a wee bit over-omnipresent. And yes, Foo Fighters generally make really awful songs—super milquetoast.
But he’s a monster drummer, and one of the few modern rock n’ rollers with a genuine sound. And when he ONLY plays drums … well, that’s a good thing.
And then there’s John Paul Jones. Yes, that one. Of Led Zeppelin. Well, I don’t really like Led Zeppelin. Gasp. Mainly, I just can’t listen to Robert Plant. Like, at all. Like, nails on a chalkboard. Like, cats doing it in an alley. And honestly, I don’t really dig Jimmy Page much either. But the rhythm section. Oh man, the rhythm section. Incredible. But Gonzo is gone. But JPJ is still with us. And you can hear him to tremendous effect in … Them Crooked Vultures.
And finally, there’s Josh Homme. Now, Queens of the Stone Age are alright. Sometimes. Sometimes alright, sometimes not. They’re hard to contain, control, or consume. They can be very glam rock, or very prog. Very garage rock, or very jam band. When they get too smart for their own good, it gets a little too Radiohead meets Smashing Pumpkins. And when they get a little too dumb for their own good, it gets a little too Spinal Tap. But with Them Crooked Vultures, he just does what he’s best suited for, which is rock in weird time signatures while dropping esoteric lyrics via his mutant Bowie tones.
So, in other words, what you’ve got in Them Crooked Vultures are three outstanding musicians with complicated and flawed pedigrees, who come together to deliver an album that does nothing but showcase what they all do best.
And “New Fang” is the perfect song to demonstrate exactly what they do so well. It fully rocks, but it’s sophisticated. It’s glammy, but it’s rooted in the blues. The slide guitar is unhinged, but also deeply melodic. The groove is weird, wonderful, and satisyfingly pummeling. It’s on the edge of over-produced, but it’s also clean, clear, and dominated by the power trio core. And the lyrical tagline is genius:
Sometimes you break a finger on the upper hand
I think you’ve got me confused for a better man
Few groups can genuinely claim to be “supergroups”—or live up to that kind of hype if it’s applied to them—but in this case, it’s a pretty appropriate sobriquet. Three generations of era-defining talent, coming together to rock, intelligently.
Rumor has it they’re finally talking about another record. The debut—and, to date, their sole release—came out in 2009. So it’s been a long wait. But I, for one, am looking forward to a second album.
As to whether Smitty is, I can’t yet say.
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