The pretentious album cover didn't help either but about 8 and a half months after it hit the shelves, I decided to give it a crack myself. After all, I'd heard half of the album through media use already. So what can I say about Royal Blood that you don't already know? Well, it might come as a surprise that in a similar but greatly superior vein to the White Stripes, the band consists of a drummer and a vocalist who plays lead instrument.
However, rather than a traditional electric guitar, Mike Kerr wields a wellied-up bass instead. With this combination of maximum fuzz and pounding rhythm, Royal Blood gained instant appeal from music journalists, modern Rock fans and practically everyone online...except me. I refused to acknowledge their talent after hearing two of the lead singles from the album.
"Come On Over" has the kind of basic riff a teenager would write after picking up their new guitar for the first time and "Figure It Out" contained more of the same with a shitawful solo for good measure. My immediate reaction was that these two were lucky more than anything and had accidentally written a pair of catchy but rather mediocre Rock songs. Now that I've listened to the entire album, I've come to realise that my dismissal of their music was a bit hasty. Not entirely inaccurate but evidently based on little more than a bad first impression.
Album opener "Out Of The Black" starts of explosively and was probably inspired by the bit everyone likes from "New Born" - Muse. However, as well as noisily introducing themselves onto the Rock scene, this track alone puts them ahead of about 90% of other modern Rock bands who spend sections of their live gigs sat on stools, gloomily moaning to a sea of twentysomethings holding iPads.
Some would contest that their sound is new and unusual compared to household Rock. Unusual, maybe. New, not by a long shot. It's quite easy to compare Mike Kerr's guitar and vocal talents to that of Josh Homme's and Jack White's respectively, taking the best elements from both with some fantastic drumming from Ben Thatcher (a man who in my eyes is completely responsible for this album being enjoyable). As well as this, there are tracks such as "You Can Be So Cruel", "Loose Change" and "Careless" that'll be familiar to fans of modern acts such as Wolfmother, Rival Sons and Them Crooked Vultures too.
You could argue that these guys deserve the praise they're getting if they can replicate the sound of those bands with just two chaps and no overdubbing or studio magic but I would counter that this band have merely adapted the sound of snippets, not the overall quality of the song(s). Plus, at the risk of possibly contradicting myself somewhere, I believe music should be judged on the music and not the circumstances which brought it to my ears. If anything, it clouds judgement and adds a permanent obstacle for you to avoid when trying to enjoy art.
As far as debut albums go though, this is pretty impressive. A promising start from a band clearly destined for follow-up material and a taste of their talents as Rock musicians. Unlike most of the bands I've discussed on this blog who are reviving Hard Rock riffs and screeches from several decades ago, Royal Blood have produced a consistent album that won't disappoint fans of the modern genre, as long as they aren't after technical soloing or 8-minute progressive masterpieces.
If you enjoy the riffs, you'll find that the songs have instant repeat value as most of them only last 3 minutes or so but due to their basic nature, it's unlikely you'll still be listening to the album months later unless you've padded each listen with completely different material...or you really like the riffs. Anyway, I begrudgingly accept that this band have wings and give the album a 7/10. I haven't rated it higher because I'm trying to rate it purely on the music, not the hype.
If you ignore the fact that it's just two guys nailing each studio recording in a single take, it's a decent effort. Not amazing but simultaneously heavy and catchy, which is always welcome in a jungle of Folk Twats masquerading as Rock, self-proclaimed rap geniuses with a positive correlation between their ever inflating egos and idiot fans, pop starlettes confusing soulful vocals for shouting in a futile attempt to change skin colour and interchangeable hair-gelled fifteen year olds singing about how hard it is to fancy a classmate whilst revising for GCSEs.
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