A new album is enough of a distraction to save face after playing a Cryptocurrency event and over-confidently booking venues which are too big. Both happened for The Black Keys, and with their scrapped Ohio Players stadium tour an embarrassing footnote of the past, they turn their attention to No Rain, No Flowers. From their aesthetic to their worldview, Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney sound behind the times. If you could not tell from the cliché utilised by the album’s title, well, that’s the blindness of enjoying Lonely Boy a little too much. Soft optimism without the specifics needed to mould the message into one of sincerity, a lived-in experience. That is what No Rain, No Flowers is missing, and why it must utilise raggedy quips and underwhelming phrases from the past. This is meant to be a defiant return following the firing of The Black Keys’ management.
No Rain, No Flowers does not offer that. Not because the band are not energised by that anger they rightly feel but because it was recorded so soon after Ohio Players. The Black Keys do not give themselves enough time to interpret and accept a wholly new aesthetic, and instead, they rely on soft-rock stylings and tepid alternative charms. The title track and follow-up, The Night Before, are nice the first time, though that is more thanks to instrumental rises than anything offered up lyrically. Vague contemplations that both wish the listener would live in the here and now but when the real world becomes too tough to work through, should hunker down in the bunker of memories. The Black Keys use No Rain, No Flowers as a chance to work with songwriters they admire. If Babygirl, a song which sounds cringe-inducing in the mouth of a twenty-something and concerning when someone twice that age performs it, is anything to go by, The Black Keys need better influences.
Some of No Rain, No Flowers can be forgiven for sounding so half done. Down to Nothing begins with a blues-y through line, an Eric Clapton-like pang of instrumental misery. It drifts from there, the band trying to present themselves as a relatable, heartbreaker duo. Absurd it is to hear each song take an expected instrumental style, be it the twinkling backdrop to the dull love of Make You Mine or Man on a Mission which sounds like a Cage the Elephant song from a decade ago. It is exactly what listeners would expect of The Black Keys. They are in a reactive state, looking for a way to right the wrongs they suffered. Heavy guitar work and a likeable enough consistency, but no reason to return for more. No Rain, No Flowers, and no real difference to their last few albums of serviceable songs.
Predictable does not mean poor, but in the case of The Black Keys, it does mean shallow waters are waded through once more. Kiss It to A Little Too High is early afternoon, empty bar jukebox white noise while album closer Neon Moon makes certain the band has at least four ballads they can play to a responsibly sized crowd. No Rain, No Flowers is a reactionary moment for the band. They say they were thrown under the bus by their management, cut their losses, and here they are with more material. Theirs is not the first tour to be cancelled, but it is likely one of the most uninteresting to be abandoned. No Rain, No Flowers claws at emotional sincerity but cannot find the right words to use, it’s often achingly close to decent listening but drifts into a forgettable, easy-listening structure.
Discover more from Cult Following
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
