The Black Keys
Let's Rock

Sooner or later, the moment had to come when we would regret the Black Keys. Given the catatonic state of today's alternative rock, I'd say that moment is now. No worries, folks, because the Black Keys returned just a year ago with an album that probably not even the singer's mother remembers anymore. But for those of you who missed it, all you need to do is press play to feel that uncontrollable seismic shock under your skin again, the same one that a few years ago made your unsuspecting colleague who plays fantasy football move to the rhythm of "Lonely Boy."

Dan Auerbach, the redhead, and Patrick Carney, the nerd. You can even say you can't stand them, but there's one thing that's undeniable: the Black Keys know what rock'n'roll is because they've truly listened to it—I imagine how many worn-out CDs, money spent, concerts watched, stories from their parents. And well, they know how to play it like it's supposed to be played, maybe because they are the only rockstars today who understand that groove is something that writhes and moans along the guitar neck, that escapes from the arms and wobbles better (and not that confused and ultimately wrong stuff you hear in many of today's black albums). Carney’s drumming then kicks almost everyone’s ass, but try explaining that to prog fans.

"Let's Rock" is named so because just listening to one song is enough and there’s no need for me to tell you why. You listen to it and understand it's a fun, diverse, and cultured work. There's a century-old tradition exploding among the blues-rock hits of the Black Keys, who have hit the mark again with this album. You listen to it, and you feel it, your body approves and thanks. It's called that extra craft.