Queens of the Stone Age – ‘In Times New Roman’ album review: a fine return to the desert
It’s been a full six years since American hard rockers Queens of the Stone Age released their last studio album, 2017’s Villains. In that time, band leader Josh Homme has been through quite a lot: a messy separation and custody battle with his wife Brody Dalle and a cancer diagnosis being two of the major hurdles he’s had to overcome. As Homme probably knows from his close friend Dave Grohl, there’s nothing more therapeutic than music, so that’s exactly how Homme attacked his problems.
But if you’re looking for any of that personal stuff in QOTSA’s new LP In Times New Roman, you’ll be disappointed. Rather than confront his demons directly, Homme opts to shake some action with electric therapy via the calming waves of massive walls of distortion. Homme knows exactly what his assets are – an endless goldmine of fuzzy riffs, a swaggering vocal style, and an air-tight band that knows exactly how to bring the best out of him.
In Times New Roman has darkness woven into its DNA. But Homme’s never been one to feel sorry for himself. The anger and confusion that has coloured his life outside of music doesn’t really find its way into either the music or the lyrics of In Times New Roman. Homme sounds more than confident that “love is dead” on ‘Paper Machete’, but he never really seems all that concerned about it. When there are this many stomping rock tracks to get through, who has time for self-reflection?
The music remains as potent as ever. ‘Negative Space’ slithers its way through an itchy drum performance from Jon Theodore as Homme searches for some way back to reality. ‘Sicily’ proves that Homme’s falsetto is as potent and sinister as ever. ‘Emotion Sickness’ is probably as close as Homme gets to confronting his own life, but then again, Homme could be singing about fighting a dragon or dropping a guitar for all we know. If you want a therapy session, then go book one yourself – Homme isn’t letting anyone look behind the curtain.
That kind of steely refusal to acknowledge anything outside of “the power of rock” is probably just a survival tactic. It’s fascinating to contrast In Times New Roman with the rest of QOTSA’s back catalogue. It sounds pretty much the same, but the gnashing teeth have been slightly dulled by decades of use. Homme himself probably never expected to get this far, and the fact that Queens of the Stone Age can still pump out reliably desert-scorched stoner rock is a testament to Homme’s “keep going or die trying” attitude.
But is it OK to want more from In Times New Roman? Absolutely. Maybe it was a pipe dream to expect Homme to turn into a Joni Mitchell, laying his breakups and crack-ups bare for the world to see. But the generic punch of In Times New Roman could use some more personal touches. It seems obvious that Homme’s response to trauma is to simply hit back as hard as he can. He certainly knows what he’s best at.
And for anyone who wants another Queens of the Stone Age album, that’s just fine. If you don’t like ‘Time & Place’ or the one-two humour punch of ‘Carnivoyer’ and ‘What the Peephole Say’, then I can’t help you. Queens of the Stone Age are as sharp musically as they’ve ever been, but the material just doesn’t quite rise to the same level that the band are at. Most of the album’s songs hit at roughly the same tempo, use roughly the same equipment, and all have pretty much the same feel to them.
That “feel” sounds exactly like Queens of the Stone Age, so that’s no criticism. I’ll take some hairy rock and roll riffs sun-bleached by the sands of California’s Palm Desert any day of the week. But the real grit and grime of the desert aren’t really anywhere in the album. Instead, the comfy confines of Rick Rubin’s Malibu chill pad/recording studio Shangri-La was used to record the album.
A Queens of the Stone Age album is always going to sound like Queens of the Stone Age. That’s a given. But does anything here resemble the shit-kicking impact of Rated R, the captivating trip of Songs for the Deaf, or even the dancey reinvention thrill of Villains? Not nearly. It’s just a Queens of the Stone Age album, and that’s all. Whatever it takes to bring us all back to the desert, even if Homme himself might be moving farther and farther away.
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