Eagles of Death Metal
Everything's bad for you nowadays, and everything's good: fat, meat, wine, carbs, caffeine. But while the medical community debates the comparative merits and perils of cardiovascular whatever, Eagles of Death Metal keep on making the greasiest high-calorie rock and roll conceivable. Death by Sexy is the second full-length from this off-the-cuff outfit -- which counts Queens of the Stones Age's Josh Homme as its drummer -- and the disc wields even more kicks, riffs, giggles and kisses than its predecessor. Like Royal Trux sugared up with the Sweet, Eagles leader Jesse Hughes whines and writhes his way through thirteen tunes that buzz with treble while unabashedly dry-humping the corpse of Eddie Cochrane. Like the best classic rockers (or at least Marc Bolan), Hughes crafts mythology out of nonsense, pitting Queen Bees against Baby Ducks while devils and doggies look on, mouths watering. Refreshingly, any pretense of art is hamstrung by a willful idiocy that turns bluesy exercise into blue-balled orgy. Death by Sexy? Sure beats death by jogging.
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