Two-piece bands intrigue me. There is something slightly unhinged about them. A bit weird, even. But at the same time, they are nearly always interesting.
Not that I always get there in time to find out. You are talking to the bloke who once saw Turbowolf but missed the opening act. They were called Royal Blood. I caught them in an arena about 18 months later.
I am, then, a little late to We Three Kings as well.
That is on me, because this is their second album and it is an absolute belter. With Rich on vocals and guitar and Pete on drums, they deal in the kind of riff-driven, guitar-heavy rock that sits very comfortably next to Queens Of The Stone Age, Royal Blood, Wolfmother, Rival Sons, The Black Keys and Jack White. But namedropping only gets you so far. What matters is whether the songs are there, and here they absolutely are.
I had literally just been talking to a friend about Stone Temple Pilots just before pressing play, and the title track comes roaring out with riffs for days and enough heft to knock books off shelves. It is a monstrous way to begin and sets the tone perfectly. “Nothing Without Me” follows by doubling down on the same strengths, all hooks and swagger, the sort of tune I would defy anyone to shake off in a hurry.
Then “Joyrider” turns up like the rock ’n’ roll party guest who has kicked the door off its hinges. It is dirty, loud and alive, and the solo is absolutely filthy. “Your Love Is My Disease” has a greedy little strut to it too, carrying the kind of line that says they are just going to take what they need and dare you to object.
By the time “Judas Take Me Home” rolls around, We Three Kings sound completely at ease in their own skin. Judas, we are informed, is a “dirty motherfucker”, and frankly he fits right in with the atmosphere here. “Shotgun” is another glorious dose of bad intent, full of menace and mischief, and when they tell you to hold on to their shotgun, you get the feeling they know exactly where the trouble is and are heading straight for it.
There is real swagger to “Touch Me”, and more than a little blues in its bones, while “Dirty Devil” pretty much sums up the whole record in miniature. Wonderful rock ’n’ roll, played with conviction, attitude and enough groove to make the room feel smaller. Closing cut “Son Of A Gun” slows things down a touch, but only so it can hit harder. More deliberate, more crushing, it lands like a final statement from a band who know exactly what they are doing.
And that, really, is the joy of this record. Two-piece bands always feel like they are operating without a safety net, and We Three Kings thrive on that tension. There is no room for hiding, no place for filler, no chance to bluff your way through. So they do not. They just come out swinging, armed with riffs, hooks, swagger and songs.
One of the finest British albums of the year so far, We Three Kings deserve a coronation.
“Stone Cold Kiss” is stone cold brilliant.
RATING 9/10
