the kills - midnight boom

Allson Mosshart has just climbed onto the thin, wobbly railing enclosing the Waterloo Records in-store stage. She is hovering over the crowd, fearless of her precarious balance despite the steep narrow heels of her gray boots, and commanding the railing as if it were an arena stage. She beckons the crowd with her slyly derisive tones, while her musical partner, Jamie Hince, plays grizzly, seductive guitar rhythms. The crowd is held captive, manipulated by Mosshart’s fearlessness and the teasing escalations of songs that build but never climax. On “Midnight Boom” the band experiments with their aesthetic in a number of ways, but their adventurousness, spellbinding presence, and sexually charged textures—so aptly personified in their live performances--remain the band’s most recognizable feature.

The Kills’ music defies categorization. Their aesthetic is undeniably post-modern, integrating drum machines and every day sounds (like dialtones) into a garage rock aesthetic. For all of their gritty, seductive edges, their records are remarkably contained, feeling edgy but not sinister, and if anything, the best way to define it is through the group’s performance behavior, intriguing and suggestive as the obvious sexual tension between the bandmates, and forceful and commanding like Mosshart’s conquest of the tiny railing and Hinces’s virulent guitars.

Midnight Boom breaks apart rock conventions and circumscriptions of their own aesthetic, only to return to traditional rock on the album’s best songs. The band takes turns playing coy and indifferent, experimenting with flat post-modern aesthetics and schoolyard pop flourishes. Many of the songs strip The Kills’ already minimalist aesthetic to percussion-only accompaniment. And while synthetic percussive sounds give the songs a post-modern flair, they ultimately lack the vitality that Hince’s guitar work would produce.

The album opens with U.R.A. Fever, a song grounded in near melodic phone sounds and tin-like percussive rhythms. Its sexual undercurrent is palpable, but without Hince’s virulent guitar it never soars above its sauntering tempo. The album then takes a sharp right turn to “Cheap and Cheerful” a bouncy, hook heavy song, vibrant but without any substance. The album’s most successful track, “Tape Song” cleverly plays with dynamics and aesthetics. A simple drum machine loop anchors the song and during the verse is almost the only audible accompaniment to Mosshart’s textured vocals. Hince’s sexy, angular guitar works comes to the fore during the chorus and remains in different degrees throughout the song. The song’s intensity subtly builds to the final chorus where Mosshart’s rich vocals seem to be spitting with derision. “Last Day of Magic” echoes the sparing versus/rock chorus of “Tape Song,” but with a warmer, more upbeat atmosphere. The Springsteen swagger of its chorus makes for good pop fodder, but it never reaches the contrast and emotive depth of its sister song. “Hook and Line” channels early PJ Harvey with raw, charged guitars and strong, pissed off vocals. “Goodnight bad morning,” perhaps the only successful diversion—U.R.A. fever comes close—is a reflective song grounded by an acoustic guitar picked melody and Mosshart’s sweet, thoughtful vocals. A fitting closure to a coy and indifferent album, and a reminder that sincerity is always more resonant than acting cool.

It’s hard to criticize a band for experimenting, but sometimes, they should just stick with what they know. For all their suggestive gestures and innovative techniques, Midnight Boom is ultimately tepid. And that’s a shame, because when they do what they do best, they really nail it.