The Kills – Blood Pressures
Brooding for so long in the shadowy realm, The Kills' latest record is the soil splattered coffin in which we can lay to rest the limp body of The White Stripes. A leathery femme fatale massacre, the fourth LP from the roguish pair is sexy, sleazy and sassy. Depraved by the demonic blues of The Dead Weather or possessed by the exquisite Kate Moss, Alison Mosshart and Jamie Hince are playing a Faustian game. In their most ambitious and accomplished undertaking to date, The Kills have conceived their very own Rosemary’s Baby.
Damned If She Do is strewn with shotgun hooks, contorting and kicking as Mosshart’s lyrics trickle poisons down your ear. Hince’s guitar-playing viciously rips apart the animal sacrifice, whilst the belting beat of the base drum on D.N.A. smacks of a propensity for violence. Yet amidst the rasping onslaught, a curious relief is sought in The Last Goodbye, as a piano-accompanied Mosshart conjures a remarkably heartfelt requiem. [Era Trieman]