Queens of the Stone Age - Lullabies to Paralyze

Incredibly, nobody had warned little Billy about the dangers of matches and petrol.

QOTSA’s much anticipated fourth long player (fifth counting the split EP with Kyuss), Lullabies To Paralyze, has proved an ultimately disappointing listen, despite a number of powerful songs and some half-realised concepts.

I guess it was too much to expect of the band to keep up the creative trajectory which has won them so many loyal fans since the mid-nineties after Kyuss disbanded. This record will be the one to cool the ardour of the old-school fans, leaving them to turn regretfully away and look elsewhere for their kicks, but it will no doubt light a fire under the asses of prog-rock kiddies whose first introduction to the band was on last year’s Songs For The Deaf. Which bodes well for the future of rock and roll.

I’m sure the band would care little about the critical reaction to the new record, especially when the album has managed to find appeal with hip young listeners as well as their parents, and finally reward them a bit of money for their efforts.

However, without wanting to sound like a snob, the band’s recent success in the mainstream has been a double-edged sword, and is the reason why Lullabies To Paralyze fails to live up to its promise. It won’t stand the test of time like the records that preceded it have done.

I have left it until now to review this record. In fact I took a month or so to buy it from the shops when all the other albums — and pretty much everything Homme et al have ever released — I’ve managed to acquire well before time from either the internet or on local pre-order. Why? Because I think I sensed the disappointment.

Having being one of the few people in my age group who actually listened to Kyuss when they still were together, and after witnessing the metamorphosis of Kyuss to become the fluid QOTSA line-up from the Kyuss/QOTSA Split EP record onwards, I reckon I’m fairly well qualified to comment on the record in context of their previous output.

Their secret, as far as I can make out, was the concept of having a fluid collective of contributing musicians working under the name, sharing the writing, rehearsing and recording whatever and whenever they felt like it, rather than having a rigid band structure buckling under the strain of relentless touring, or a record company demanding a new album every few months. It seemed the music came first, and promotion last. And it worked if not commercially, then certainly in terms of credibility.

It seems Queens formed out of a desire to be rid of the commercial elements which may have contributed to the collapse of Kyuss, and from a desire to continue the fulfilment this group of musicians got from stress-free creative side-projects like the early Desert Sessions recordings. Which became like a scratch-pad of ideas for Josh Homme’s various other commitments, while still being amazing works of music in their own rite. If nothing else, a great excuse to ask the musicians Homme admired to get loaded on drugs and jam in his friend’s high-desert recording studio.

The Kyuss and Desert Sessions alumni are respected names for hard rock and stoner fans – from Brant Bjork, Mark Lanegan, Dave Catching, Hernando Fernandez, Scott Reeder, Dave Catching, Nick Oliveri and many more all stopping past to contribute to one or another of Homme’s musical projects, mostly recorded at Ranch de la Luna. Not least among these projects was QOTSA.

The first full-length album was a triumph of treetrunk-thick, droning riffery with hooks and changes to die for. The falsetto vocals and uncompromising thunder of down-stroke fuzz guitars, bellowing bass and mindblowing drumming from ex-Kyuss drummer Hernando Fernandez hailed the band as Kyuss’ muscular lovechild. It was more focused than the EP suggested the debut longplayer might be, with the EP's downright weird, chimey, stomping experimentations in rhythm and instrumentation (as seen on tracks like Spiders And Vengaroons) showing the band had more than the "stoner rock" string to its bow.

The self-titled album, however, flew largely under the mainstream musical radar. There were few publicity stunts, irregular touring in the US and Europe and numerous independent label-hoppings -- but an extremely large and loyal fanbase was built nonetheless as word got out.

In Australia, the record was difficult to find until the band released it's record, the massively popular Rated R.

Again, thanks to the fluid line-up and evidence of idea- and influence-sharing, Rated R proved a miraculous work which again surprised fans, but in a good way. It was different: it explored new territory for the band, melding raging punk so loved by bassist Nick Oliveri to eerie Mexican folk flavours, thundering riff rock and elements of 80s pop as seen in the wonderful vocal harmonies of songs like Autopilot. The record was a magnificent journey: listening to the changing colours and atmosphere made it a powerful, evocative record on both an intellectual and primative level. It's one that I still play every few weeks and still find fresh after years of flogging. There were, of course, the first overtones that QOTSA could be absolutely huge: Feelgood Hit Of The Summer became an anthem for fans around the world, and unsurprisingly it won JJJ’s Hottest 100 competition here in Australia.

The next record, Songs for The Deaf, built on this wider recognition, but it was an album which again surprised critics and presented the band as something different again. It proved the most commercially successful, introducing fans of Nirvana and Foo Fighters’ Dave Grohl to the music — Grohl had volunteered to play drums on the record, and seemed to fit perfectly. Again, Homme drew heavily on the Desert Sessions crowd to provide talent for the record, which was another spectacularly original and diverse outing into a more straight-ahead hard-rock sound, but still canvassing influences from all over the place. It was tight, heavy, yet subtle and boasting an incredible dynamic range.

Of their catalogue, this record will be recognised as the highwater mark for a band that wasn’t really a band, beyond being a loose collective of “Homme, Oliveri and friends”.

Then, during a relentless global tour, the Songs For The Deaf touring musicians somehow scored themselves a regular gig. Oliveri left under a cloud of controversy which threatened to split a lifelong friendship with Homme.

It seems the band's songs were no longer being conceived and performed by whoever was “around” and best suited the part. It looked liked the record label jackals were closing in to pick whatever flesh it could while there was still flesh to pick at.

And so, finally, one of the most hyped albums to ever be released from an “underground” band hit the shelves. Sans Oliveri, written largely by Homme, and with the “touring” drummer on skins and contributing guitarist Troy van Leeuwen now seemingly a permanent position – the record still namechecked the old-school Joshua Tree/Desert Sessions days – Alain Johannes, Dave Catching, Chris Goss, and Mark Lanegan to name a few. Dean Ween made an appearance, as did Shirley Manson and Homme’s missus on backup duties.

But Lullabies did not break any new musical ground for the band. Again, Homme reached into the vault to access material already written, like a new take of Desert Sessions' classic In My Head.

There are some amazing moments on this record. Tangled Up In Plaid and I Never Came are probably the most transcendent tracks on the album, with Somewhere In The Fade most reminiscent of the old unpredictable, savage, unsettling Queens of the Stone Age, Rated R era.

Lullabies proves that QOTSA are still a band capable of producing music with more quality than most “rock” band out there could hope to achieve, this record still seems like a shadow of their former glory.
In fact, it’s QOTSA Lite. Nick Olivei took one half of the band when he left... the half that included the balls. Lullabies is slick, it’s shiny, it’s hook-laden and many of the songs show depth and are evocative. But to me, Lullabies feels like the castrated out-takes from Songs for the Deaf. The bones are there, but the record feels emaciated in comparison to the rest of the catalogue -- like it was rushed out prematurely to capitalise on the hype. It should have been left for a few years, and the weak tracks discarded or rewritten, or worked on until each song was perfect. The standard of the previous work demands no less, but I guess pressures from above got the better of the band. Leaving some wondering how long it will be before Queens goes the way of its forebear, Kyuss.

Maybe QOTSA has taken a direction I don’t care to follow. But where the last albums told a coherent, painful, rebellious and uplifting story -- albiet cobbled together using disparate parts of genres and written and performed by an eclectic selection of musicians -- Lullabies seems to wander around in no particular direction. Which may well be the point: Homme loses partner in crime and gets lost and confused in a big scary forest.

The first half of the album is strong, but I’ve lost the thread by the time Someone’s In The Wolf has finished.

It’s not a bad album. But it’s not that good either. I think that given the equipment, timeframe and budget QOTSA enjoyed for Lullabies, there’d be a few Melbourne bands that could make a more interesting, passionate and coherent record.

But I’ll never write QOTSA off. Homme remains a songwriting and guitar genius with the one thing which will separate him from the rest of the rock and roll hoi palloi – an active sense of humour.

-- The Beige Baron