"…And Then You Shoot Your Cousin" Review

Even with the broad shoulders of ?uestlove Thompson, shouldering the entirety of a people's musical history must be daunting. Much more than hip-hop and late night's favorite house band, The Roots have morphed into a group of cultural ambassadors, relaying the trials and triumphs of black America to the greater American public one step at a time. Whether it be teaching NYU students about Prince or orchestrating perfect walk-up music for the many guests of the Tonight Show, ?uestlove and The Roots do their homework better than anyone else. The breadth of their research is evident on …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin, which arrives as both carefully crafted and completely unorthodox for a hip-hop record. At a compact 33 minutes, The Roots take a concise and powerful approach on their eleventh studio album, packing it to the brim with intricate compositions, amelodic explorations, and precise references to the past that carry more meaning now than ever. 

While not indicated in the track listing, …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin seems to be divided into suites, with relatively untouched samples from older artists acting as transitions from chapter to chapter. The album starts with "Theme From Middle Of The Night," as the great Nina Simone moans, "Only the lonely love.../ In desperate embrace/ To make your false a true…" This sets up the question at the core of Cousin, which asks if love and caring only exist as meager ways for us to validate each other's existence. "Never," with its vocal distortion and operatic chorus singers, insists that abandonment and growing up poor is the worst fate imaginable. "When The People Cheer," the album's hard-hitting single, suggests that isolation can also be found in the things that we assign too much value to, such as money ("For your entertainment money is the language/ So every time I speak I'm tryna make another payment"), religion ("Everybody acts like God is all that/ But I got the feeling he ain't never coming back"), and sex ("She keeps providing the place for me to be unfaithful at"). The next suite, which opens up with an excerpt from jazz pianist Mary Lou Williams' "The Devil," muddles the line between right and wrong ("Black Rock") and exposes the many contradictions of organized religion ("Understand"). Another shift occurs on "Dies Irae," a musical interlude provided by experimental French composer Michel Chion. This chaotic interlude is a perfect preface for "The Dark," one of their most morbid, sinister songs to date. 

While The Roots make sifting through the past seem like nothing but fun and games on Fallon, …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin reveals that navigating through history can lead to the reemergence of painful memories, and makes us question just how much progress we have actually made. Even darker than Undun, their 2011 street opera told in reverse, Cousin looks backwards for answers, and comes up empty. The struggle and the hurt feel as real on this record as any The Roots have ever created. The final song, "Tomorrow," is the album's only shimmer of hope. Almost tongue-in-cheek with its cheerful whistling, "Tomorrow" contains a simple yet profound message: "Cause everybody needs an angel/ And everybody needs to smile/ And everybody has an angel/ And everybody wants tomorrow right now." It seems The Roots haven't given up on love and understanding after all. In fact, on …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin, they're the only things left that can lift us out of the dark past and help us look towards a better tomorrow.

Stream …And Then You Shoot Your Cousin via Pitchfork Advance.

"Turn Blue" Review

This might already be the title of a children's book, but here it goes anyway: everyone gets to feel sad sometimes. It's easy to watch from a distance and insist on how someone has everything they could ever want. Wealth. Recognition. "What's to complain about? Stop fussing and be happy." It's an all too common conundrum that succesful artists have to face. How do you stay hungry? Dan Aurebach and Patrick Carney, the 21st century's most beloved blues brothers, seem to think they've found an answer through psychedelic experimentation, or at least so they have publicized for Turn Blue, the Black Keys' eighth studio album. Unfortunately, it's going to take a little more than some ambient noise and fuzzed out guitars to patch up some of the holes that are starting to form in the Black Keys' formula. That, what I have just mentioned, appears to be the biggest flaw of all: the blistering passion and supercharged soul of the Black Keys is turning into something stale and formulaic. Additionally, the genuine heartbreak found in their earlier work is starting to be replaced by something less sincere.

Penned by many as "trippy" and "a turning point" in anticipation of its release, Turn Blue really only seems experimental in comparison to its commercially minded predecessor, El Camino. Previous records, like 2008's Attack and Release, and even their 2010 smash hit, Brothers, feel much more liberated and playful than Turn Blue. The duo only step out of their comfort zone at brief, disconnected moments on this album, never amounting to anything greater than a suggestion of something that never arrives. At the 6:20 mark, a hypnotic sounding xylophone and bass combo takes over, mirroring the kind of "far out" imagery that is present on the cover art. It's ominous, and perhaps maybe even indicative of something that can explain their bizarre, quirky promo trailer. Alas, nothing comes of it. Exciting, yet underdeveloped moments like this are scattered throughout Turn Blue. "Year In Review" starts and ends with interesting, sonar-like pitches, but the meat of the song consists of Aurebach eking out lines about a love that wasn't meant to be while accompanied by a chorus of oo-ing and oh-ing soul singers. Tactics like these feel routine at this point, as past hits like "Lonely Boy" and "Gold on The Ceiling" took a nearly identical approach. The variety in lyrical content is scarce, as some of their typical blues tropes ("I'm aching," "heart's rearranged") are starting to get old. The grit and sweat found in standards like "I Got Mine" and "10 AM Automatic" have been replaced by washed out, aimless screaming ("Bullet In The Brain") and a passive attitude ("Gotta Get Away"). Songs like the funky change of pace, "10 Lovers," try to shake things up, but it only ends up adding to the inconsistency. Sadly, while there are some noticeably problematic trends in Turn Blue, there is no underlying theme that connects any of the positive aspects of this record.

And now, being the fan that I am, here come the apologies. Railing against the Black Keys is not something that gives me enjoyment. This album does not take away from the greatness of their previous offerings, their exceptional chops as blues rockers, or their welcome sense of humor (their music videos are ridiculous and awesome). In fact, Turn Blue has several terrific moments. The opening track, "Weight of Love," contains a healthy barrage of mind melting guitar solos. "Fever" is the reliable, up-tempo single that every Black Keys album needs in order to stay grounded. The jungle rhythm vibe on "It's Up To You Now" sounds like a modern take on Led Zeppelin's "Four Sticks." From the lonely piano at the opening to the meandering guitar at the end, "In Our Prime" is gorgeous in its desolation. However, these moments lack unity, as Turn Blue ultimately pans out as a batch of songs that are either hit or miss.

One of the best songs the Black Keys have ever put to wax is the brief, often overlooked "Grown So Ugly," a gem from their tremendous third album, Rubber Factory. Aurebach kicks it off by growling, "I got up this morning/ Put on my shoes/ Tied my shoes/ Went to the mirror/ To comb my hair/ I made a move." Not a whole lot is said here, but the outrage that Aurebach uses to deliver these simple phrases speaks volumes. While it's certainly better than no new Black Keys album at all, Turn Blue possesses neither the heart nor the sonic unity that can be heard throughout most of their discography. Ironically enough, "Grown So Ugly" is a song about identity crises. On Turn Blue, there is no song like this to be found. You can't start fixing the problem until you recognize it.