GOD. DAMN. This album. I mean, it's not necessarily perfect, but it was certainly the best experience I had listening to music this year, in the last few years, and possibly one of the best of all time. I've already been hyping the hell out of this album internally and externally, put out two videos about it in anticipation, and probably drove off a few of my so-called "friends" on Facebook posting about this, but it somehow met and exceeded all of my expectations. A music nerd needs to be able to obsessively geek out over something every now and then, and that now and then is right now.
...Like Clockwork did the impossible: take a band I merely had a passing interest in due to one fantastic album and turned them into bona fide rockstars. Songs for the Deaf was the quintessential rock album of the last decade and, as of right now, ...Like Clockwork is the standout of the genre for this decade. Every song is fleshed out and with a sound of its own (not unlike Deaf), but unlike that past entry, every song seems to have its own emotional core. Sure, Six Shooter was a funny little throwaway song, but it didn't have the melancholic breakdown of album opener Keep Your Eyes Peeled, wherein the album's nastiest song turns into a lament on fading optimism. Right off the bat, you can tell that ...Like Clockwork is going for something special and of its own, unlike anything that Queens of the Stone Age has done before. Many have attributed this to frontman Josh Homme's near-death experience following knee surgery, and there's a certain mortality in his lyrics that rock music hasn't touched upon since Bruce Springsteen's The Rising.
By now, it sounds like I'm laying the praises on heavily, but an album that can rock as hard as this and holds so many more layers than its peers deserves to be made an example of. The melancholy is brought to the forefront with I Sat By The Ocean, a title that conjures weariness and pausing as the world passes you by. The guitar riff here is foregrounded, but in a muted, expressive manner that allows for a line comparing the speaker and the subject to "passing ships in the night" to evolve into "crashing ships in the night." Something that could merely be a subtle shift instead ends up a literal wreck. When was the last time you heard something like this in rock music?
Just when the album looks to be settling into a groove, though, it ramps things up in terms of both quality and content. Even with an opening song that details the view from Hell, when the first words out of Homme's mouth are "I want God to come and take me home," you're in for an entirely different beast. Thus, The Vampyre Of Time And Memory marks the turning point of the album. Though it lacks the intensity of the two previous tracks, the melancholy and emotion overwhelms to the point of sensory overload. It sinks in that this is what the album is going for, this is the type of album Homme intended to make, especially with the title track following in its footsteps at the album's conclusion.
The streak of great songs continues with If I Had A Tail, wherein Homme rattles off some of the album's best lyrics about the state of the world and his own being. What the meaning behind the song lacks, the excellent instrumentation and clever writing makes up for, giving the tune its own sense of sheer funk rock bravado. My God Is The Sun follows suit and wins simply for being an exciting, exhilarating rock song. (My God, when was the last time we had one of those?) Even with some jarringly out-of-place lyrics ("I don't know what time it was/I don't wear a watch," comedic drum effect optional), the song never lets up and succeeds merely on the steam on which it runs.
And then there's Kalopsia. What starts off as slow introspection turns into a schizophrenic back-and-forth between Homme and guest vocalist Trent Reznor before the unhinged come-down. Mixing equal parts Bowie-era glam rock and some of the heaviest power chords on the album, the duality of the song works in tandem with excellent lyrics such as "forget the rat in the race, we'll choke-chain them all."
Fairweather Friends works in a similar duality, tying a hard rock sensibility that most of the album has going for it with a driving piano riff led by Elton John. It's one of the more fun tracks on the album (even with the pessimistic lyrics) and is elevated by an ending so unexpected that it had me laughing purely from shock value.
It makes sense then that Smooth Sailing should follow this song, as it continues that "couldn't care less" attitude from Fairweather Friends with a cocky stride unrivaled (expertly mirroring the title). Again, the lyricism here is top-notch; where else are you going to find the line "I will blow my load over the status quo?"
What follows is what could easily be called the album's centerpiece: the epic, moody I Appear Missing. I've already talked in length about what makes this song so special, but, to add to the absolutely brilliant, striking lyrics that run throughout this thing, the second half of the song, which results in one of the most cathartic musical conclusions in recent memory, is interminably stunning. One could write essays about the depth of the lyrics, the marvelous instrumentation, or the fascinating structure of it all, even perhaps how all three intertwine in a way most musicians wouldn't even begin to dream about. Regardless, it's by far the most alluring cut from the album.
The band closes the album in a quiet fashion, with the title track detailing nerve-wracked thoughts of the past and coming to terms with the present. The barebones piano of the song's first half is haunting, allowing for reflection of all things that passed, before the most muted instrumental backing on the album comes in. Given the mood of the rest of the album, lyrically and instrumentally, it's somewhat fitting that ...Like Clockwork ends in a state of melancholic understatement rather than a show-stopping finale.
This album is a rarity in music. Every track has something worth talking about, greater depth and more nuanced instrumentation than most music currently out there. The band gives the album its all (especially the drums, which add a crucial layer to every song and serve as the backbone to the stellar lyrics and blistering guitar riffs). It's been a while since I've found something to like in every moment of an album; there's not a wasted moment, not a single expendable piece. I'm simply amazed that an album like this can simultaneously satisfy visceral rock urges and analytical tendencies, and, more importantly, simply exist.
(Author's Note: This late review is due to me ordering the Deluxe Double LP of the album, which suffered some delays. However, it was definitely worth the wait. The vinyl was in excellent condition, as to be expected, but the real winner of this packaging is the 20-page art booklet built into the package. The absolutely gorgeous artwork from Boneface coupled with complete lyric sheets makes this a must-own for those who want the complete package. Hands-down: this is one of the greatest vinyl packagings I've ever seen as a record collector.)
Best Songs: I Appear Missing, My God Is The Sun, The Vampyre Of Time And Memory
Worst Songs: For just once, would anyone be upset if I put nothing here? I really can't justify calling anything on this album "worst."
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