Them Crooked Vultures: Them Crooked Vultures

Hard rock fanboys like myself could hardly avoid having lofty expectations for Them Crooked Vultures, the long-awaited collaboration between Josh Homme, Dave Grohl and John Paul Jones.  As we headbangers take our first spins through this album, we might spend less time appreciating how much ass it kicks and more time coming to terms with the fact that it could never possibly live up to the earth-shattering standards we probably assumed it would surpass.  But after a couple of listens or so, once any unrealistic high hopes wear out their welcomes, Them Crooked Vultures proves itself a record to be reckoned with.

Beginning with “No One Loves Me & Neither Do I,” all of the band’s super-grouped parts come swaggering out of the gate.  Jones and Grohl show off an immediate chemistry, with strutting, stuttering, Bonzo-worthy grooves, while Homme conjures up his usual hot-rod riffage and tongue-in-cheek, honey-voiced sleazebag routine (”If sex is a weapon, then smash-boom-pow/ how ya like me now?”)  The foreplay lasts about two and a half minutes, then the band pauses to catch its breath after the bridge…and detonates a Godzilla-sized hole in the stereo for the second bridge.  It’s a simple, repetitive stomper fit for a pro wrestler’s entrance theme, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t unleash my inner Beavis, thrashing his devil-horn fingers to the sky and screeching yes-yes-yes!

Next, “Mind Eraser, No Chaser” steps on the gas with an ode to drug-induced oblivion (”Gimme the reason why the mind’s a terrible thing to waste/ ‘Understanding is cruel,’ the monkey said as it launched to space.”)  Grohl gets to sing the catchiest half of the chorus, and his youthful enthusiasm provides an appealing contrast against Homme’s cucumber cool.  Too bad it’s the only (sigh) track on the album where the Foo Fighter sings in the foreground.

The hot streak of radio-ready tunes continues with “New Fang” and “Dead End Friends,” until the bloated midsection of the record arrives.  “Scumbag Blues” is worthwhile at least for the kick of hearing Jones get funky on the clavinet just like he did on Physical Graffiti, although the tracks that surround it aren’t always as fun.  “Elephants,” “Bandoliers,” and “Reptiles” feature some decent licks, the occasional humorous lyric (”Slick back my hair/ you know the devil’s in there”), and some interesting dynamics courtesy of the legendary rhythm section, but they’re not quite enough to rescue the songs from filler territory.

By the time we hear “Interlude With Ludes”- which sounds exactly how its title advertises- it feels like it’s a little too late.  It’s not a great song per se, but its effect as a trippy oasis amid the heavy metal maelstrom might have been more potent if it were closer to the middle of the record.  However, situated two-thirds of the way through, after a string of mostly mid-tempo numbers, it becomes as diluted as a shot of absinthe in three pints of water.

“Warsaw Or The First Breath You Take After You Give Up” isn’t a particularly well-written song either, although the four-minute jam in the second half offers some more refreshing textures when its Texas blues boogie seamlessly descends into a woozy rabbit hole.  The following tracks also mix up the styles while bringing back the hooks- “Caligulove” with its throbbing neo-pagan orgy, and “Gunman” with its sci-fi Bowie disco.  Then on the overlong “Spinning In Daffodils,” Them Crooked Vultures plods toward its close.  Finally, it fades out with the last of three haunted carnival-type codas that appear scattered throughout the album.

I find it hard to tell exactly what purpose these seemingly incongruous codas serve, aside from occasionally lightening the record’s mood without sacrificing its twisted edge.  The fanboy in me hopes they might also be some kind of attempt to establish Them Crooked Vultures as an actual band with a unique identity, instead of merely a one-time lark.  Because if these dudes keep at it, learn to trim the fat, maybe let the drummer sing on a few more songs, who knows- they just might make an umitigated classic album one of these days.