It's obvious that this duo bought their first instruments and started mining blues tropes to get the girls almost all these songs are about. That's why each tune is shimmering with the smoky atmospherics of a Quentin Tarantino movie, cutting into White Stripes' stomping ground without the trickness of Jack's lyrics or the intensity of Meg's unrelenting stomp. Instead the beat is laid back into
R&B turf for the seduction of those drawn to oddly vague, cool rock-and-roll.We never learn about who that is exactly since The Black Keys treat women as demographics, not individuals, in songs which go for universalism but end up as glorified song skeletons, lacking the meat of real relationship details. After all, it'd be a shame if those girls found out the whole show was for them. That would make the band and their audience appear to be tangible people instead of faceless blues archetypes, ruining the magic. Only on the last track does the gentleman who does the crooning truly sound flustered, and it's not about girls at all. 3/5
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