Every so often, you come across a group that are so mind-bendingly fresh that you want to find them and give their hand a ruddy good shaking. Royal Blood are one such band and after I first bent my ears around this self-titled release from the Brighton duo, I knew I had to grease up my shaking hand immediately.
To say that Royal Blood are rock is perhaps an understatement – every riff channels the spirit of ten Beelezebubs, each exquisite twat of the drumkit is like all of America’s bison come back at once and that’s actually it. There are two members of the band and they belie their shortfall of numbers by playing every note like they hate their instruments. Essentially, they are hatefucking them into oblivion and it’s the greatest.
Opener ‘Out of the Black‘ is a personal highlight; rarely have I heard a set of drums so expertly and lovingly bashed within an inch of their life. Think Audioslave meets Metz and you’re on the right track. Comparisons to Jack White aren’t too far a stretch vocal-wise either for Mike Kerr but where White might whisper, Kerr will growl.
The pace simply doesn’t relent on Royal Blood’s maiden album. It’s a statement of intent when they can put out 10 solid tracks and still keep your attention. There are couple of standout riffs may make you extremely fertile, the chunky as Bruce out of Matilda guitarwork on ‘Little Monster’ is a behemoth and should have even the most straight-laced of ex-rock fans undoing the  top button of their shirt and letting loose.
‘Loose Change‘ and ‘Careless‘ show off the band at their most White Stripesiest and if there’s to be a criticism of the album, it’s that they’re a little different from the prior tracks and the slight vocal shift is a bit jarring. This really is picking holes in one of my best albums of 2014 already though.
Doubtlessly, this review won’t be the first time you’ve heard of the pair. They’ve been creating a big buzz (a deserved one at that) after they were included in the BBC’s Sound of 2014 list, presumably as an antidote to Pitbull’s ceaseless bollocks.
Kerr said on the album: “I guess every song has its own personality – and maybe these songs are such intense characters that they’d become too sickly if they were longer. You want a slice of nice gateau instead of scoffing the whole cake.”
Royal Blood are like a breath of fresh air in a room filled with farts. Put the Lynx down and prick up your ears for this fine slice of punchy rock instead.
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