There’s something about Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, you know. They shouldn’t be this cool.

Sometimes they play like angry, dirty punks; sometimes they play like they’re in a psychedelic space trance.

They sing about the ugliness of war and the sweet release of death, like a trio of ghosts who happened upon Black Sabbath and close harmonies in the same afternoon. By all the ordinary rules of the music world, they ought to be a heavy metal band with pretensions up to their eyeballs.

But they aren’t. They defy convention. They defy genres. It’s hard to fathom them. It was hard to fathom that first record of theirs some 12 years ago, and ‘Specter at the Feast’ isn’t going to be fathomable either. Another 12 years from now you’ll still be playing it, wondering how music like this actually, physically came to be.

Read more: www.live4ever.uk.com/2013/03/review-black-rebel-motorcycle-club-specter-at-the-feast/