On the cover of the Hives’ latest CD, “The Black and White Album,” singer Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist holds up two fingers in a V, signaling victory.
In case you’re a damn hippy and somehow mistake that for a peace sign, the group clears things up with the liner notes, writing, “Never before have the Hives done so much for so many,” a play on one of Winston Churchill’s famous lines.
You hear this kind of braggadocio from the group all the time. Live, when a crowd applauds, Almqvist responds by saying “You’re welcome.” Thing is, the Hives’ albums never really lived up to their oversized egos.
That all changes with the quartet’s latest hot-to-the-touch romp, a terrific effort that fuses disco, soul and new wave to the Hives’ stylish brand of garage punk.
From the get-go, there were signs this would be a different outing for the group. They enlisted producers with chops. Pharrell Williams, a hit maker for Justin Timberlake, helped craft the disco groove of “T.H.E.H.I.V.E.S.,” during which Almqvist gloats about ruling the world. Dennis Herring, who helmed the last two Modest Mouse albums, and Garret “Jacknife” Lee, of U2 and Snow Patrol fame, also came on board.
But Snow Patrol this ain’t.
The group continues to claim they’re under the influence of Randy Fitzsimmons, a fictional Svengali figure that, as the story goes, recruited five adolescents in 1993 by sending each a letter, telling them to meet at a particular time and place.
Fitzsimmons, later revealed by British magazine NME to be a pseudonym for guitarist Nicholaus “Arson” Almqvist, gets credit for writing the entire new album.
Almqvist, Arson, Fitzsimmons — whoever it is should be proud. These songs are scorchers.
To give a bigger bounce to the vocals on the rocker “Try It Again,” the group brought in cheerleaders. Later on, during “Well All Right!” Howlin’ plays the part of a soul singer, urging the listener to “help me out, I need help,” before he yelps the song’s climax.
The Hives also produced some of these songs on their own, including “Giddy Up!” a quirky track that milks Devo’s angular stomp.
Really, it’s almost a slight to the Hives that the lead single ended up being “Tick Tick Boom,” which recycles the sound of their 2000 hit, “Hate to Say I Told You So.” They have so much more to offer on this album.
It’s tough to find any drawbacks here, but, if forced, the lyrics are often mundane. Granted, you hardly notice thanks to Howlin’s delivery, and the guy still tosses off a few choice lines. On “You Dress Up for Armageddon,” he jabs at a depressive “man with a microphone.”
“You feel tortured and filled with regret,” he sings. “You say life is void of meaning. Are they not sick of you yet? Man that’s such a, man that’s such a bummer.”
Despite the flourishes, the group never hides its roots in punk. Sharp-toothed guitars and caffeinated drums dominate most songs. The Hives’ willingness to push against the genre’s constraints, however, help them avoid the trappings that weighed down their past records.
In the end, the group launches a victorious assault that beats away the idea these Swedes could ever be neutral about anything. Black and white? Yes. Gray? Never.
Reporter Andy Rathbun: 425-339-3455 or e-mail arathbun@heraldnet.com.
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