The Drones
Gala Mill

That's how rock is. You always consider it dead, always with that attitude of someone who thinks they've heard it all, who thinks it only lived there, only there in the past (more distant than recent). So when you read about these The Drones, they already get on your nerves a bit. Maybe it's because of that "The" in front that you can't stand unless justified, or because of the usual description you find, the usual band defined as "sincere" dealing with a rock that laughs at Velvet Underground, Neil Young, Stones, etc., etc., that you imagine will please the nice and bouncing alternative kids of today. But most of all it's because 90 times out of 100 these bands suck, writing songs that have the same value as a Blue song, except that, damn it, they dress, move, drug, and die (imagine the idiots!) as they should according to the nice and bouncing kids, and then, lo and behold!, they're deified!!!!

It's thought that these stupidities have killed the rock as we know it, meaning saliva, blood, tears, and screams. But no, it's right that all this continues, because by doing so real people, real bands, those touched by the "fire", will always have a way to continue screaming their frustrations, their broken loves, their "screw you, piece of trash" which in the end are true rock before it became true punk.

So, I started listening to this band thinking they belonged to the first category, but no, a bolt from the blue, it only took the first track Jezebel to have a clear demonstration of what "making rock" means.

Jezebel is staggering, unhealthy, sick. It has Gareth Liddier's voice as a means of communication, has his guitar and Rui Pereira's to make us understand what kind of blood flows through them, and has the rhythm section composed of bassist Fiona Kitchine and drummer Mike Noga to symbolize its staggering structure. It's the perfect meeting point between the Birthday Party of a Cave thirsty for everything and Dream Syndicate of a Wynn in maximum inspiration. A piece like this justifies the album, but it's a pity that at the same (very high) level there are at least another three:

The ride I Don't Ever Want To Change, what Pearl Jam should be remembered for but no longer know how to do, I'm Here Now, a piece/crescendo that has as spokespeople the Crime and City Solution of the beautiful The Bride Ship, and the final Sixteen Straws, a blues that many musicians will never be able to write. These four monsters are surrounded by tracks that are, however, very enjoyable and all mid-tempo, like the cheerful "Are You Leaving For The Country" (an electric country with a carefree whistle), the ballad Work for Me sung by Kitchine who at times reminds you of the voice of Meg White a little more drugged, and the Roots song "I Looked Down The Line And I Wondered", which, like a bit of the whole album, brings out evident comparisons with some of Nick Cave's works (in this case more from the '90s though).

They are Australian, this is their third album, and honestly, I can't wait to listen to the previous ones, described as more beastly and wild. Spectacle!!!

Anyway, a band with real guts.... you must listen to them even just to not like them.