The production was bigger, with colorful graphics flashing on the huge screens around them, but the music remained rooted in the band’s commitment to jagged rock and blues. “Let’s get moving,” said singer-guitarist Dan Auerbach, wearing a studded black motorcycle jacket and drilling right into the tortured echo and stutter of “Howlin’ for You,” fleshed out with extra players on bass and heaving organ. But the core duo of Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney frequently stripped things back down to just the two of them, ready to bash through the rawest, hungriest riffs and beats of “Your Touch” and other tributes to swampy blues.

This was a phenomenal performance. Auerbach radiated energy and the the audience responded in kind. It was the perfect balance of performance and appreciation. The music was terrific and the visuals were delightful. The many familiar favorites were played with inventiveness and spontaneity. Nothing was stale. The Black Keys had the entire audience on their feet from the first song to the last. All in all this was the most enjoyable concert experience I’ve ever experienced.

The Black Keys returned to Coachella with a neighborly hello and operated essentially as they have many times before at the festival, having worked their way up from an obscure Akron, Ohio duo on the smallest stages to a headliner in 2012.

The production was bigger, with colorful graphics flashing on the huge screens around them, but the music remained rooted in the band’s commitment to jagged rock and blues. “Let’s get moving,” said singer-guitarist Dan Auerbach, wearing a studded black motorcycle jacket and drilling right into the tortured echo and stutter of “Howlin’ for You,” fleshed out with extra players on bass and heaving organ. But the core duo of Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney frequently stripped things back down to just the two of them, ready to bash through the rawest, hungriest riffs and beats of “Your Touch” and other tributes to swampy blues.

This was a phenomenal performance. Auerbach radiated energy and the the audience responded in kind. It was the perfect balance of performance and appreciation. The music was terrific and the visuals were delightful.

This was a phenomenal performance. Auerbach radiated energy and the the audience responded in kind. It was the perfect balance of performance and appreciation. The music was terrific and the visuals were delightful. The many familiar favorites were played with inventiveness and spontaneity. Nothing was stale. The Black Keys had the entire audience on their feet from the first song to the last. All in all this was the most enjoyable concert experience I’ve ever experienced.

The Black Keys returned to Coachella with a neighborly hello and operated essentially as they have many times before at the festival, having worked their way up from an obscure Akron, Ohio duo on the smallest stages to a headliner in 2012.

The band released a four-track called EP-1 on September 3rd, following bassist’s departure from the band earlier this year. “Everyone was just devastated,” The manager, told us. “But everybody believed in the songs. We decided to just carry on and see what happens.”

The group has been busy, playing Riot Fest last month and also stopping by Late Night With Jimmy Fallon with new touring bassist Kim Shattuck. The rockers are currently on a European tour, which kicked off this weekend.

The band has also shared a video for EP-1 track “Andro Queen. It’s a trippy, dimly-lit journey directed by Ondi Timoner. Read more…

Will Hermes of Rolling Stone called the song’s keyboards “a serrated organ growl backed up with a SWAT team of hand claps” and cited it as an example of Danger Mouse’s prowess as a producer and co-writer. Summarizing the song, Hermes wrote, “It’s Sixties bubblegum garage pop writ large, with T. Rex swagger and a guitar freakout that perfectly mirrors the lyrics, a paranoid rant that makes you shiver while you shimmy.” John Soeder of The Plain Dealer labeled it one of the album’s finest and said that it sounded like a hybrid of Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky” and Gary Glitter’s “Rock and Roll Part 2″.

Melissa Maerz of Entertainment Weekly said that the song, “with its swarm-of-bees organs and acid-trip gospel harmonies, could be a lost Nuggets gem”. Randall Roberts of the Los Angeles Times, writing about the song’s retro stylings, said that it “sounds as if it’s existed forever”.

Will Hermes of Rolling Stone called the song’s keyboards “a serrated organ growl backed up with a SWAT team of hand claps” and cited it as an example of Danger Mouse’s prowess as a producer and co-writer. Summarizing the song, Hermes wrote, “It’s Sixties bubblegum garage pop writ large, with T. Rex swagger and a guitar freakout that perfectly mirrors the lyrics, a paranoid rant that makes you shiver while you shimmy.” John Soeder of The Plain Dealer labeled it one of the album’s finest and said that it sounded like a hybrid of Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky” and Gary Glitter’s “Rock and Roll Part 2″.

Melissa Maerz of Entertainment Weekly said that the song, “with its swarm-of-bees organs and acid-trip gospel harmonies, could be a lost Nuggets gem”. Randall Roberts of the Los Angeles Times, writing about the song’s retro stylings, said that it “sounds as if it’s existed forever”.

Will Hermes of Rolling Stone called the song’s keyboards “a serrated organ growl backed up with a SWAT team of hand claps” and cited it as an example of Danger Mouse’s prowess as a producer and co-writer. Summarizing the song, Hermes wrote, “It’s Sixties bubblegum garage pop writ large, with T. Rex swagger and a guitar freakout that perfectly mirrors the lyrics, a paranoid rant that makes you shiver while you shimmy.” John Soeder of The Plain Dealer labeled it one of the album’s finest and said that it sounded like a hybrid of Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit in the Sky” and Gary Glitter’s “Rock and Roll Part 2″.

It was a characteristic gesture for Clapton, one of rock’s most self-effacing guitar heroes, and Crossroads itself, which featured sets and guest shots by more than two dozen other guitarists including Jeff Beck, B.B. King, Buddy Guy, John Mayer, Keb’ Mo, Sonny Landreth, Albert Lee, Robert Cray, Steve Cropper, Robbie Robertson and rising star Gary Clark Jr. Clapton, 68, is the founder and supervising spirit of the festival, which benefits his Caribbean addiction-treatment facillity of the same name and was held indoors for its fourth edition, after single-day outdoor extravaganzas in Dallas in 2004 and Chicago in 2007 and 2010.

Clapton is also Crossroads’ inevitable headliner. He closed on the 13th, this time on electric guitar and with a surprise guest, Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones. The latter looked fit and soloed with short, tart phrases in the Big Bill Broonzy-Little Walter chestnut “Key to the Highway” and the 1958 Chuck Berry B-side “Sweet Little Rock and Roller.” Richards also took a moment to honor Clapton, with good rude humor, for doing “such a beautiful job” with this shindig. “So let’s give him the clap!” Richards said with a hoarse laugh, putting his hands together.

Blues and Fraternity

But Clapton mostly curates and attends each Crossroads as a student, fan and genially competitive friend. On the first night at the Garden, after that acoustic set, Clapton came back out to swap breaks and smiles in a variety of settings: with the Allman Brothers Band; the jazz guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel; and a formidable row of bluesmen, including Cray, King and Jimmie Vaughan. The emphasis in that gang, all seated out of respect for the 87-year-old King, was on fraternity. “If you give them a big hand,” King told the audience, gesturing to the others, “you make me feel good.” In fact, although he played only intermittent guitar, King held up his vocal share of “Sweet Sixteen” and “Everyday I Have the Blues” like an undiminished lion. And when it was Clapton’s turn to solo in the latter, he turned up his heat as if called on in class by a master teacher.

In his two songs with Rosenwinkle, Clapton demonstrated why he is – appropriately for such a reluctant star – still one of rock’s busiest session guitarists and live sidemen: his ability to elevate another’s starring moment with blending fluency. The up-tempo shuffle “Way Down That Lonesome Road” was closer to Clapton’s usual stride, and he answered Rosenwinkel’s rounded-treble be-bop charge with a slicing flair in his straight-blues runs. But in the ballad “If I Should Lose You,” Clapton soloed with the right supporting distance in tone and ego, complementing Rosenwinkel’s fluid poise with dextrous, understated melancholy.

Later, with the Allmans, Clapton did it again in the Derek and the Dominos rush of “Why Does Love Got to Be So Bad.” He and guitarists Warren Haynes and Derek Trucks all soloed in the song’s long, closing sigh, their strong, individual voices meshing into a glistening, bittersweet tangle in the growing quiet. Read more

Like that other guitar and drums duo from the Rust Belt, the Akron, Ohio, guys brought raw, riffed-out power back to pop’s lexicon. On 2010’s Brothers, they found a perfect balance between juke-joint formalism and modern bangzoom. The result was a few Grammys and so many TV ad placements, The Colbert Report did a sketch about it. El Camino is the Keys’ grandest pop gesture yet, augmenting dark-hearted fuzz blasts with sleekly sexy choruses and Seventies-glam flair. It’s an attempt at staying true to the spirit of that piece-of-shit minivan on the album cover – similar to their first touring vehicle – while reimagining it as a pimpmobile. This is the Black Keys’ third meeting – following 2008’s Attack & Release and one track on Brothers – with Danger Mouse, a.k.a. Brian Burton. Here, the band essentially becomes a trio, with Burton as co-producer/co-writer throughout. His brilliance, as the planet heard on Gnarls Barkley’s Crazy, is blowing details of classic pop up to Jumbotron scale. Listen to the keyboard part that kicks in the door of El Camino’s “Gold on the Ceiling”: a serrated organ growl backed up with a SWAT team of hand claps. It’s Sixties bubblegum garage pop writ large, with T. Rex swagger and a guitar freakout that perfectly mirrors the lyrics, a paranoid rant that makes you shiver while you shimmy.

The single “Lonely Boy” works the same way, launched on a gnarly, looped guitar riff whose last note slides down like a turntable that someone keeps stopping. Then a sugar-crusted keyboard comes in, along with what sounds like a boy-girl chorus, changing the swampy chug into a seductive singalong.