Band of Skulls- BabyDarling Doll Face Honey

Mon 7th Dec, 2009 in Music Reviews

This statement is sure to cause a stir and so is this band. Indie garage rock is to the last three years what acoustic-based roots-rock was to 2002-2005. _(In between the two periods there was emo, which like nu metal in the late nineties and that Mr President Coco Jamboo single you’ve got in your shed, is best forgotten about.)_
The masses have a taste for it, Nova isn’t afraid to play it, and there’s a million bands with the same sound. As a music snob, you feel like Stifler in American Pie 3 a lot of the time, as you sort through the shit to find the diamond and your good intentions result in poo in your mouth or ears. Every now and then you find the diamond though, and your faith in a new rock band returns.

Band of Skulls’ Baby Darling Doll Face Honey is a diamond. Following in the footsteps of The Stones, The Who and The Beatles, they’ve taken an American rock sound that’s currently popular, slapped a British stamp on it and packaged it better than everyone else. This isn’t Brit-pop, it is an unashamedly American sound stolen from the Zeitgeist by some bratty Southampton kids. It is the second coming of the British invasion and it’s a bloody good listen.

There is nothing original about it, you can hear just about every reputable, distortion-pedal-stomping band of contemporary American rock music throughout the album’s perfectly weighted 50 minutes. White Stripes, The Strokes, Smashing Pumpkins, early Kings of Leon, Queens of the Stone Age etc etc etc. they’re all there, but who cares? As a rock music fan, sometimes you’ve just gotta give in to your body’s natural urge to enjoy the familiarity of an accessible garage beat, a grungey blues lick or a hook taken from bar-stool graffiti. The album is comprised of twelve songs which encompass every sleazy adjective you could conjure up. If you’re not a smoker, you will be after listening to it.

Death by Diamonds and Pearls is the album’s breakthrough number, played through Jack White’s stack it’s got balls and a hook cooler than a conversation between Nick Cave and Benicio Del Toro. A ripping jilted lead break sees the track out and you can imagine frontman Russell Marsden falling all over his amp as he hacks through it. I Know What I Am follows it up in a similar fashion, with Emma Richardson on lead vocals this time (come on, you knew there was going to be a chick on bass in a band like this), her sexy take on the chorus might just have you fantasising about the girl who works at that indie bar in town. Well it’s alright it’s ok, I got the time but the time don’t pay. They even go for some acoustic Zeppelinesque balladry on Honest, where a hint of Britain shows up in Richardson’s Maid Marian-like melody. To be quite honest, this track shits you sometimes. The album rounds off with a break-up song that builds into an unexpected anthemic crescendo once the tracks whinger stops feeling sorry for himself. Despite the cheesy theme and lyrics, this track is as addictive as the cigarettes this album makes you smoke; all because of its last one and a half minutes. “Cold fame in my brain, it’s ok cos I know it’s the best for me.”

Wolfmother wishes it was this trio. They are one of the best new bands this year, not because of a unique sound, amazing musicianship or intricate lyricism- they don’t have any of this. But they know how to write a song that makes a drive to the shop feel like a scene from Easy Rider and they sound fresh, despite the fact that their sound isn’t.

Grab some darts and sour mash and have a listen with your Ray Bans on punk.