The Dead Weather | Sea Of Cowards
They exploded onto the music scene in July 2009 with their debut album titled Horehound, grabbing the attention of the world in only a matter of months. They are The Dead Weather – a super group made up of only the finest ingredients hand selected by Mr Jack White himself. Consisting of Alison Mosshart, Dean Fertita, Jack Lawrence and not to forget White, this band was certainly set up for success from the very beginning. A year on from their first release comes Sea Of Cowards – an album dedicated to dirty bluesy rock at it’s finest.
I decided to review this one before even hearing it, because I figured if I had anything crap to say, it wouldn’t matter. These guys have more than enough fans who will go out and buy the album whether some reviewer says it sux or not, coz’ that’s just the way the world works. So I waited for a morning where I hadn’t had a coffee, and felt like being an asshole to give this disc a first listen, only to find myself completely disappointed. There is absolutely nothing bad I can say about this album. In fact, I love it and it has very quickly become one of my favorites of the year.
Now, incase you’re suffering from amnesia and have forgotten about The White Stripes, the opening track, Blue Blood Blues will provide an instant reminder. Guaranteed you’ll be convinced with signature guitar accents teamed up with delectable lyrics like ‘Crack a window, crack a broken bone/Crack your knuckles when you’re at home/Lick an ice cream cone.’ I’m smitten already. Slithers of funk are added into the mix with Hustle and Cuss, which is partly written and sung by Mosshart.
I’m Mad comes from the combined efforts of this handsome four-piece, and is my absolute favorite on the disc. Again, Mosshart is the centre of attention with vocals bordering on the edge of insanity, bringing to mind all kinds of evil and hatred. It is indeed, how you say…finger licking good. I Can’t Hear You is one of the slower songs on the album, but is unforgettable all the same. With lyrics blurted out in the most creepy of fashions, ‘I’m gonna teach you, and keep you for myself’, this is most certainly a winner.
The venomous, Gasoline again possesses squealing and strong lyrics enough to make a grown man quiver like, ‘I don’t want a sweetheart/All I want is a machine’. No Horse follows which moves into the psychedelic rumblings from previous tracks, but it is Old Mary that truly shines on the latter part of this masterpiece. Beginning with White poetically reciting his lyrics before the piano ballad comes in turning this into a package of pure haunting pleasure.
And that’s exactly how I’d like to describe the entire album…a package of pure haunting pleasure.
Thoughts on the matter?