Weekly fuel to soundtrack your favorite 48 hours…

‘Rock And Roll Is Dead’ is what many nitwits scream for years now. It’s a lie, it’s a myth, its nonsense. I have no clue at all why some still shout the same rubbish over and over again. If you love intoxicating guitar electricity, big anthemic choruses, cutting stories and the smell of exhilarating grooves in the morning you’ll know where and when to find it, on record and live on a stage, famous or up and coming. As long as genuine rock and roll survivors keep on making touching crackerjack music teenagers will be stimulated and inspired to pick up a guitar and hit a drum. One of those experienced teams – entering their 20th year – is BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB . After their boosting 2001 debut and their first ever gig in Belgium (2 March 2002) I became a fan, I still am. Not all of their records/songs were memorable, but I can easily fill an authentic Wurlitzer jukebox with monumental B.R.M.C strokes. Yesterday their seventh album, titled WRONG CREATURES, came out. There’s less firework than before (but still plenty enough to keep your speakers tremble), but more touching melodramas than ever. Like a real reflection of getting older.

More equilibrium, more emotional meditations that will affect hearts and souls. Overall
it’s a strikingly balanced longplayer. From electrifying steamrollers (Spook / King Of Bones / Little Thing Go Wild) to a string of wholehearted, amplified musings (Haunt / Echo / Ninth Configuration / Question Of Faith / Carried From The Start) all delivered with the vintage leather swagger we, fans, know so well. After only three spins I know two things for sure: 1/ I need another jukebox and 2/ Rock and Roll is eternal as it’s a most basic expression
of being human. Here we go…

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B.R.M.C.

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