La Musica Negra marks the first album without former guitarist and vocalist Anne Marie Griffin and although dedicated to her, it’s something of a departure from the Dave Grohl produced ‘In The Pink’.
Scott Bondy and his Birmingham, Alabama gang dish up some trashy and sleazy riffs for colossal railroading track, ‘Way Out West’ and AC/DC thumping,’It’s Alright, It’s Okay’ (Jesus Told Me So) but elsewhere it all gets a bit sticky. ‘All The Saints’ bleeds the indie bandwagon dry with it’s guitar hero posturing – and whilst the guitar-lick melts like ice cream, it simply fails to lead anywhere: introspective certainly, but lacking depth. It’s only on pared down tracks like ‘Camellia’ that it ever gets close to being interesting – purring as this track does like heroin in the veins of a crack addict and recalling the pearly liquid gothic of a once mighty Jesus and The Mary Chain.
‘Me and Yr Sister’ rolls smoothly enough – and at this point you’re thinking – hey, this is quite good – perhaps there really is life after Kurt afterall. But for all the slurring and the spitting there’s too little real venom. And by ‘White Girls’ we’ve entered ‘Foo Fighter’ territory: chiming, cranked up guitars chasing bright and eager melodies.
But for all it’s sugar-coating, it’s still too bitter a pill and no amount of pomposity on the title front is going to make up for that fact.
When you’re dealing with an inexpressable loss, the last thing you’re going to do is try to explain it. La Musica Negra is a too cerebral for that – a little too conscientious. Bondy really just needs to emote. Don’t tell us about the headfuck. Demonstrate it.