Album Review : Them Crooked Vultures - Them Crooked Vultures
- Written by Robert Powell
So what exactly is a supergroup? Tracing the history of the supergroup it seems to exist less as a musical term than as a marketing strategy; bestowing members of bands adorned with the supergroup crown the luxury of being able to release an album of shoegaze Wham! covers and still guarantee that some sad git will buy it. One thing is for certain, however: whatever the hell a supergroup is, Them Crooked Vultures definitely are one. So what is the product of the Josh Homme, Dave Grohl and John Paul-Jones collaboration actually like?
On paper, Them Crooked Vultures’ self-titled debut album should be a prime cut of rock and roll steak, in reality it’s more a McDonald’s drive through; still good, but I couldn’t have it every day. The real joy of Josh Homme in QOTSA was always the unadulterated groove he could bring to even the most simple of riffs. It is this groove that a majority of TCV’s debut album lacks, riffs seem regular and regimented when they should be sleazy and sexy, album opener 'No One Loves Me and Neither Do I' is a prime example of this.
There are nevertheless still moments of brilliance. 'New Fang' feels like the most complete song on the album fusing together a bouncing verse and catchy off-kilter chorus before climaxing in an outro dominated by a Gatling Gun-esque assault on the drums from Dave Grohl.
If this album was laid to rest for its failures then its fifth track 'Elephant' would surely be its epitaph, standing as an example of why the whole album is no longer living. The opening riff is indeed one that Jimmy Page would be proud to call his own but unfortunately for Homme and Co. these initial 10 seconds are then drowned in the musical nothingness of the next 400. The track drifts into the supergroup jam band hotel and decides to book the room right next to Emerson, Lake and Palmer, however unfortunately for TCV no good bands stay in that hotel anymore.
Album stand out track Scumbag Blues sees John Paul-Jones dig out the clavinet, Josh Homme strip back the dense riffage and vocally ascend to dizzying heights for a number that could easily slot into the Zeppelin back catalogue. The crisp and snappy drum work of Grohl combined with John Paul-Jones’ 'Trampled Underfoot' style clavinet work gives the instrumental refrains of this song an interesting and attractive texture that is lacking from many other songs.
The second half of the album is decidedly average. The intro of 'Bandoliers' is as boring as the rest of the song and spawns the finger itch that makes you flick through Reptiles to the totally pointless Interlude With Ludes.
Calligulove is the only remaining song of any interest on the album, thanks once again to the keyboard work of John Paul-Jones. However like so many of its predecessors the song soon drowns in riffs and gets smothered by Homme’s chesty vocals. Indeed by the time album finale Spinning in Daffodils grinds into motion the listener is left begging for some vocal variation; Nick Oliveri, Mark Lanegan... bloody Mark Owen; just give us anything but Josh Homme’s silky smooth whining!
Them Crooked Vultures are your archetypal supergroup, on paper they have all the talent to be the greatest band of their generation, yet like so many of their predecessors they come nowhere close. Long, boring songs are seemingly transplanted straight from jam sessions to record with no consideration of the audience giving an album lacking in structure or character in many parts.
Credit where credit's due - in places the album delivers a fist of rock and roll, riff-soaked groove right to the face (and groin) of the listener, but unfortunately on the whole it appears to be less Them Crooked Vultures and more ‘boring wonky pigeons’.