Beasts of Bourbon
Black Milk

Cover smelling of Santeria and Voodoo ritual. Black Milk, the third LP by Beasts of Bourbon, is like those tough guys with a rough exterior but a heart of gold that fill American literature and filmography. The black milk that the Beasts secrete, while still intoxicating and high in alcoholic content, this time is not as bitter as the wonderful acidic mush we were served with the previous Sour Mash. The Beasts make faces to scare us but then they allow a hint of a smile to escape.

This doesn't mean that Black Milk is a bad album. On the contrary, it is an excellent amalgamation of everything that was present in the two previous records. But this amalgamation is, in some way, tempered. There is a melodic moderation in this record that does not possess the vital spark of Sour Mash and Axeman’s Jazz, but it is still engaging.

Fourteen tracks (sixteen counting the 45 included as a gift with the first copies). The title-track and "I'm So Happy I Could Cry" are perverse, Cave-like blues. Songs like “Hope You Find Your Way To Heaven” and "Words From a Woman to Her Man" possess the sing-song sensitivity typical of Lee Hazlewood pop singles, and they enjoy great guitar work and exceptional production. I don't know who the producer Phil Punch is, but this album sounds damn good.

The only cover on the album is the dazzling "Let's Get Funky" by Hound Dog Taylor. Then there are the tributes to Waits in "Fate Much Worse Than Life" and "El Beasto", the wonderful 50s crooner ballads, “Cool Fire” and "Blue Stranger", and the ironically sentimental country of “I've Let You Down Again”. The overwhelming electric rides of “You Let Me Down” and “Execution Day” raise the adrenaline levels.

And when we reach the final track, "Rest in Peace," there's a vague feeling of incompleteness because Black Milk is a great record, but not as exceptional as its predecessors.

It definitely seems that Black Milk is a more languid affair, a cocktail party where the Beasts wear their Sunday best and sip their chalice of Black Milk, but where you also know everyone will end up drunk and heartbroken anyway.

My kind of music.