Boasting an unapologetic southern-fried twang, with a clang and harmony that is unmistakably the inimitable sound and feel of the Black Lips. Their songcraft and stylistic evolution are as infamous as their now legendary live shows. The Black Lips return with their 10th studio effort Apocalypse Love, scorched with their trademark menace, it cryogenically mutates all recognised musical bases; it spins yarns about vintage Soviet synths, Benzedrine stupors, coup de’ tats, stolen valor and certified destruction, all set against a black setting sun. Since the turn of the decade the band have transformed from austere country pioneers, into a set of Lynchian surrealists, hellbent on recalibrating the history of rock ‘n’ roll.
Singer and saxophonist Zumi Rosow muses, “It’s a weird dance record, one that reflects the moment that the world’s in right now…”
Apocalypse Love is an album that emanates from a dive bar jukebox in the back of your mind; with a playlist that bends between tub thumping doom- glam, Plastic Ono singalongs, cocktail-shaken space age pop, Morricone reverberations and lo-fi outsider acoustic-punk, with mariachi horns, theremins, drum machines and harmonies filtering through the infectious melodies.
