“Strange Times“
from the album Attack & Release
2008
iTunes
In practice and in principal The Black Keys consist of just two people, the guitarist-singer Dan Auerbach and the drummer Patrick Carney. But on Attack & Release, their fifth album, they welcome an interloper: Brian Burton, the producer better known as Danger Mouse (or in some circles, as the nonsinging half of Gnarls Barkley). Happily, the results are not just evident but potent. While the sound of this blues-rock duo has been fleshed out, none of its grit has been glossed.
The collaboration originally began when Danger Mouse drafted the Black Keys to write songs for an Ike Turner album, a project that folded after Mr. Turner’s death last year. Signing on later as their record producer, Danger Mouse nudged the duo ever so slightly from their comfort zone. Mr. Auerbach and Mr. Carney, who have recorded much of their previous music in dank basements around their hometown of Akron, Ohio, consented to upgrade to a dusty studio near Cleveland.
Some of the album’s tracks — including a turbocharged lead single, “Strange Times” — bear the ghostly keyboard filigree and ominous drones that have become Danger Mouse trademarks. Others, like “Psychotic Girl,” incorporate a dry twitter of banjo. And a few guests make useful contributions, including the guitarist Marc Ribot and the bluegrass singer Jessica Lea Mayfield. Ralph Carney, Patrick’s uncle (and like Mr. Ribot, a musical compatriot of Tom Waits), plays jaw harp and assorted woodwind instruments.
Of course the meat of the album is in Mr. Auerbach’s searing vocal and guitar work, and to a lesser extent in Mr. Carney’s solid drumming. On a song like “I Got Mine” they get to the core of the Black Keys sound, which has as much to do with Led Zeppelin as it does with the Delta blues. The heavy riffs and boiled-down lyrics flatter both members of the band, and the shifting canvas of the production acts as a shield against monotony.
Intriguingly, the album includes two back-to-back renditions of the same brokenhearted complaint, “Remember When.” One can safely be called a Danger Mouse special, with its moody cadence and murky atmospherics. Then comes the straight-up Black Keys edition: a savage, bitter concoction built on a snarling punk-rock riff.
There’s no question that this second version of the song is better, but it also builds naturally on the first. It’s clear that both readings belong on this record, which could reasonably be considered a shared achievement.