THE BLACK KEYS RUBBER FACTORY FAT POSSUM/EPITAPH RECORDS

Akron, Ohio earned the name the “Rubber City” for a reason. The tires on your bike? From Akron. Those Goodyears on your car? Akron, too. Triangulated with Pittsburgh and Detroit, and hidden in Cleveland’s shadow, it’s the Eeyore of the decaying, pollution-suffocated Midwest. However, Akron’s no slouch; it gruffly creaks, breathes and oozes filth. Seared and charred, it lies covered in layers of soot, sweat and grease.
The Black Keys, guitarist/singer Dan Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney, love their hometown. They love Akron and its rubber factory so much that they named their album after it. Listeners can almost breath the noxious fumes spit out in their grimy, unpretentiously rockin’ blues.
This recording shouldn’t be mistaken for brittle lo-fi, even though it rolls along with a gritty mixture of garage crunch and funk. These songs positively pop out of the stereo. They blend stripped-down, two-man action with psychedelic guitar lines that run traces and circles in and around traditional blues riffs. “When the Lights Go Out” starts off Rubber Factory with a hollow, mechanical drum beat pounded out on sheet metal drums; the sound is expansive and hypnotizing with lyrics that are more chanted than sung. Fuzzy guitar licks fly with crackling electricity on “10 AM Automatic.” On every song, Auerbach’s vocals are just grizzled and dusky enough to earn the epithet of “weary beyond his years.”
One standout is “The Lengths,” where the boys wind down for a bit on a dusty ballad rendered in late-afternoon melancholy. The vocals are wispy and simple. The steel guitar is sad and lonesome. Afterwards, the album saunters off into a hazy, brown sunset. The Black Keys leave you just a bit dirtier than when you started.
Benjamin Haas

artist=The Black Keys
album=Rubber Factory