Song of the Week this week is a deep cut from Eagles of Death Metal’s sophomore album, Death By Sexy, Solid Gold:
Of all the bands I shamelessly enjoy, the one attracts the more ire from my friends and family is probably Eagles of Death Metal. Seen (somewhat fairly) as Queens of the Stone Age side-piece, the duo of Hughes and Homme have not delivered the most richly textured and deftly observed discography, but there are few rock bands that’ll have me boogieing like them.
Solid Gold, eponymously dope as it is, is a prime example of this. EODM have been labelled with the “rockabilly” tag plenty of times (although I think that has more to do with Jesse’s ‘tache than anything else) but you can’t deny it here. The banjo-esque acoustic guitars that anchor the song are sandy and rushing, with that Southern trashiness that you’ll hate to love, but love nonetheless. This is only accentuated by the washed percussion and twanging lead guitars, feeling more like “ho-down” than “disco”.
Despite this, there is a euphoric, rushing danceability to the whole thing — likely down to the pounding, bouncy drums, mixed as if they’re pots-and-pans and, yet, that only adds to their charm. Frontman Jesse Hughes is the embodiment of skittish groove on the top of this, his chants of “Sweat!” brushing past strip-club sleaziness on its way to having you bopping and jiving like a farmhand on meth. The lyrics are stupid, classless and wonderful. By the time the verse hits, you’ll be so inundated by joy and groove that you’ll be more than ready to belt out “We are the stars of your sexy dream” at the top of your weirdly falsettoed lungs. Nice!