14 Songs, 38 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

Despite their reputation as venue trashing avatars of sweaty debauchery and roaring garage rock chaos, the Black Lips possess a strikingly appealing pop sensibility and a knowing sense of humor that charmingly offsets their hedonistic poses. This is a band whose freewheeling carelessness reminds the listener that rock and roll is first and foremost about unbridled fun and youthful exhilaration. On Good Bad Not Evil they channel the gleeful incompetence and snarling but cutely precocious badinage of a thousand nameless teen combos from decades past. Thankfully the Black Lips are not content to be pegged as also ran garage revivalists, and the chiming chords of “Cold Hands”, and the hummable chorus of the stomping “Bad Kids” owe as much to New Zealand pop merchants The Clean as to the garage staples to whom the band are constantly compared. Though the album is marred by a few half-hearted excursions into moonshine drenched faux-country, the Black Lips sense of fun is so contagious that one can’t help but snicker along with the maudlin honky-tonk of “How Do You Tell A Child Someone Has Died.” While other bands drown in po-faced self-seriousness, the Black Lips continue to create albums full of transcendent trash with a laugh and a smile.

EDITORS’ NOTES

Despite their reputation as venue trashing avatars of sweaty debauchery and roaring garage rock chaos, the Black Lips possess a strikingly appealing pop sensibility and a knowing sense of humor that charmingly offsets their hedonistic poses. This is a band whose freewheeling carelessness reminds the listener that rock and roll is first and foremost about unbridled fun and youthful exhilaration. On Good Bad Not Evil they channel the gleeful incompetence and snarling but cutely precocious badinage of a thousand nameless teen combos from decades past. Thankfully the Black Lips are not content to be pegged as also ran garage revivalists, and the chiming chords of “Cold Hands”, and the hummable chorus of the stomping “Bad Kids” owe as much to New Zealand pop merchants The Clean as to the garage staples to whom the band are constantly compared. Though the album is marred by a few half-hearted excursions into moonshine drenched faux-country, the Black Lips sense of fun is so contagious that one can’t help but snicker along with the maudlin honky-tonk of “How Do You Tell A Child Someone Has Died.” While other bands drown in po-faced self-seriousness, the Black Lips continue to create albums full of transcendent trash with a laugh and a smile.

TITLE TIME

Ratings and Reviews

4.4 out of 5
65 Ratings
65 Ratings
OrwellCouldBeRight ,

How does no one hear Lou Reed?

Lock and Key sounds strikingly similair to Run, Run, Run by the Velvet Underground. Not lyrically, and not necesarilly musically, but rather the overall feel. I'm surprised no one has made refrence to the VU. I hear a little bit of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club in there too, and maybe a ghost of Bob Dylan or Beach Boys surf era. Everyonce in awhile there's a breath of Dick Dale...
but maybe its just me.

Miggon ,

Spawned from an American Garage

Previously, a reviewer drew a line from TBL to the Velvet Underground. Nah, I say. This is Nuggets-worthy garage rock a lá The Fugs, Troggs and early Mothers of Invention. Blenderized with (as another reviewer noted) a dose of Dead Milkmen plus a whole lot of originality! Right! Which brings us to the most important point I can muster: Comparing today's bands to yesterday's bands is kind of futile. Sure, it's nifty keen-O to be attuned to what came before; but every band deserves to be heard on its own merits. The Black Lips play with unabashed honesty and integrity in every note. They deserve all kudos for that first and foremost. Everything else is icing on their cupcakes.

Shoes Tied ,

Milkmen Resuscitated

The Black Lips polish up their production. What lies underneath the grime? Oddly, the Dead Milkmen. Songs like "Navajo", "Bad Kids", and "How Do You Tell A Child" could easily fit onto Beelzebubba. Mix the Milkmen with some garage grime like that on In The Red or Dirtnap Records and you get the sick milkshake that leaves Black Lips.

More By The Black Lips

You May Also Like