The relentless, hip-shaking crunch of the Black Lips' voodoo garage rock has helped revive a lust for evil, Crypt Records-style rock and roll.
In its short but storied career, the Atlanta outfit's knack for getting banned in Georgia venues has attracted a lot of attention. Nevertheless, the Lips have been riding a wave of good press since 2005, when mainstream rags like Rolling Stone started drooling all over them shortly after the release of Let It Bloom, a totally noisy groovefest.
The group's new disc, Good Bad Not Evil, just released on 9/11, possesses the primal spirit of Beefheart and, amazingly enough, the '60s hooks of the Shangri-Las. Drunk as all hell, singer and bassist Jared Swilley recently described his group's newfound pop instincts as "Amazing -- I can't even believe that we did that."
Although the Black Lips rock out garage-style, there's an avant edge to their sound. In fact, the Lips' volatile live shows speak directly to Cleveland's legendary underground rock scene. For local degenerates whose ears are tuned to the Pagans, Mirrors, and Electric Eels, this Atlantean tribe of "flower punk" misfits definitely proves that the Rock Hall can be located in your own garage, if you've got the right instincts.