Black LipsUnderneath The Rainbow
Vice

- Despite being the supposedly edgy, cooler-than-thou, envelope pushing voice of the little people, the Vice empire has grown into a worldwide corporation with increasingly muddy intentions - especially if you consider that Rupert Murdoch’s almost universally detested 21st Century Fox laid out a cool seventy million American dollars to own a small piece of that delicious hipster pie. While it’s hard to imagine that has any real influence on Vice’s musical output, ever since the brand ventured away from heavily criticising, to straight-up releasing music through their own channels, one of their flagship recording artists have been pushing out pretty much same brand of brats-all-grown-up-garage rock.

Hailing from the dirty south that is Atlanta, Georgia, the Black Lips aren’t really on the cutting edge of anything these days. The once balls-to-the-wall, punk-rock outfit is in serious jeopardy of wearing very thin. Their psychedelic, lo-fi roots making way for pleasant indie rock with a southern twang and catchy hooks that your mother might even enjoy.

The Black Lips' most recent foray into relevance and their seventh full-length to date Underneath The Rainbow sees those ragamuffins at it again and as the record kicked off, my doubts and lack of confidence seemed justified. I just hunkered down and prepared myself for forty minutes of frustratingly pleasant, above average rock and roll.

Luckily for the Black Lips and my poor, deteriorating earholes, they still dish out their brand of contemporary scumbag, cowboy rock pretty darn well. They do so with a certain swagger and restrained confidence and ease that is as reassuring as it is worrying. The group's variations on a theme rarely different enough to warrant much in terms of pure enthusiasm, though it still, at times, conjures up the odd head bop and foot-tap. The Black Lips operate best when they embrace that southern vibe I've always had a soft spot for. That certain guitar twang that conjures up warm memories of those 70’s-era spaghetti westerns which, despite their actual dark undercurrents, always struck a chord with me.

While some might argue that it's not a huge leap ahead of blues-turned-pop contemporaries the Black Keys brand of increasingly radio friendly rock and roll, the Black Lips do a better job balancing their rawer, original sound with the often self-imploding boon that is professional recording and production tools. The group, to this day, retain a distinct, albeit slick, edge.

Underneath The Rainbow is another Black Lips record that ultimately is a fine and enjoyable ride that, aside from a few real tasty nuggets, suffers from being a little too tight and too polished. A record that, just like the last handful, fails to branch out quite enough for me to go wild about, but is, regardless, a good record that deserves its props. Another slightly frustrating affair from a group that, dare I say it, should go back to urinating and vomiting on each other.

- Jay Edwards.

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