BRMC review

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Metro, Chicago
Wednesday, February 8, 2006

Not sure which was the more unlikely smokefree scenario: Metro or Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. Two clubs in Chicago in these hardened times, sacrifices are difficult but required of us all. Both were better for it, however, and if the maturity cliché ever needed to be invoked, Wednesday was it.

Granted, smoke applies both figuratively and literally to BRMC, an especially necessary note given their trusty dry ice makers were in tow. But the Bay Area trio’s usual cloak, one of undersea reverb that justly landed them in the Jesus & Mary Chain clone depository, has been categorically banished to highlight a surprise guise: Depression-era blues.

It was once thought Black Rebel’s roots were about as deep as the hair dye staining their scalps, about as fruitful a discussion as the usefulness of a hair dryer in a desert. The first two albums, while satisfying slabs of updated shoegazing, didn’t lend any credence to boasts of a bottomless supply of song ideas. The thinking was if the claims had any merit, The Jesus & Mary Chain had already tested their worth.

But when Howl arrived last fall, the immediate suspicion was one of either Robert Turner or Peter Hayes had been offed. But truth revealed it to be square-peg drummer Nick Jago, hardly the group’s stylistic lynchpin. Howl stomped where the first two records trod; cried where they sneered, clawed where they sliced.

Opening with the all-acoustic “Restless Sinner,” Hayes began spare and ended fully accompanied — vocally by Turner, new drummer , and touring instrumentalist Spike. Still rather vampiric in appearance — is there a 40 watt bulb in the house? — the shadowy stage stalking Hayes and Turner developed on tours past had to be vanquished so they could swing during “Shuffle Your Feet” and “Ain’t No Easy Way.” The new album’s title track was delivered by Turner on organ, slyly blurring the edges of old and new but letting the song’s soul struggle through the mortal coil rather than the whisper through the ether.

When it came time to tout the old material, “Love Burns” seemed understandably naked without its drenching, electronic effects, though “Awake” remained an echoing chasm. “Six Barrel Shotgun,” “Whatever Happened To My Rock And Roll,” and “Stop” plodded more than they used to, simply because they formerly outpaced most of their material. Wednesday they were basic, almost quaintly so, especially when preceding the til-death-do-us piano ballad “Promise” and swaying, nostalgic “Gospel Song.”

Hah. Used to be nostalgia was a negative connotation for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. Not anymore.

— Steve Forstneger

Category: Live Reviews, Weekly