Dancing in the dark - and digging it - with Raveonettes' 'Lust Lust Lust'

By Sean Daly, Times Pop Music Critic
Published March 6, 2008

The Raveonettes, vocalist Sharin Foo, front, and guitarist Sune Rose Wagner, have Copenhagen roots but a Hollywood vibe.
	[Getty Images (2007)]

The Raveonettes
Lust Lust Lust (Vice)
Grade: A

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Danish duo the Raveonettes are kind of like the White Stripes, if Jack and Meg were lovesick vampires. Or the Everly Brothers, if Phil and Don were randy gumshoes. Or Jan & Dean, if the surfer-rockers soundtracked Twin Peaks.

Sune Rose Wagner the fella and Sharin Foo (the femme fatale) are Vogue-pretty young people with a passion for B-movie chills, '60s girl groups and Duane Eddy's twangy guitar. Other influences include Buddy Holly, The Wild Angels and every garage-rocker who's ever stabbed his amp to get a hellhound squeal. They may hail from Copenhagen, but they're Hollywood through and through.

With gorgeous harmonies and a menacing underbelly ("I fell out of heaven," they ooze, "to be with you in hell"), the Raveonettes are both pleasing and jarring, making their fourth album, the new Lust Lust Lust, perfect for makeout sessions or solitary confinement. Somewhere on their tour bus, I'm betting there's a copy of Farewell, My Lovely with a cigarette burn in the middle.

Much like Jack and Meg White, the Raveons are easy to spot but hard to peg. The brooding Wagner makes his guitars buzz a la noise-poppers the Jesus and Mary Chain, while bleached-blond bandmate Foo sh-booms like the Ronettes. But for all their influences, they also deliver something new and novel, a frustrated modern statement on human disconnection in a loud, troubled world. The band has been on the Next Big Thing bubble for a while, but Lust Lust Lust is just the gem fans have been craving. In fact, I'd say it's one of the best albums of both 2008 and 1958.

On 2005 disc Pretty in Black, recorded for the Sony label, Wagner and Foo forced sunlight into their act, even going as far as covering the Angels' My Boyfriend's Back. But now they're back on an indie label, which has freed them to unload monstrous levels of distortion and guitar nastiness, all running over benign grooves perfectly suited for Mel's Drive-In. The Raveonettes are much more honest, and much less poppy, and that makes a huge, dark difference.

On rough-and-tumblers You Want the Candy ("I plowed my way through hell / For a sweet sweet love attack") and Blitzed ("The beauty of our love is dead"), the Wall of Sound arrangements are big, brash, joyous, and the guitar solos are strong enough to gird an arena. But listen closely, and the message is brutal: Even when you do connect with someone, the results can be fatal.

First single Dead Sound rips into a bloodless ladies' man who's lost his charms, but the indicting guitars sound as if they're being played in a puddle of tears. Neither the villain nor the hero is triumphant, a classic Raveonettes denouement. Right now, Quentin Tarantino is penciling in the Danes to soundtrack his next bit of pulp fiction.

Every now and then, the duo will allow bittersweetness to sneak in to a song, and the effect can be exhilarating. On the closing The Beat Dies, love gets dragged through a back alley and vandalized, and yet the closing line about falling head-over-heels is one of twisted hope. No matter what happens today, tomorrow we'll do it all over again.

Lust Lust Lust is ideal listening for a midnight drive. Cinematically suited for end credits everywhere, the music is layered with crescendoing guitars and pedal-to-metal beats, moody atmospherics and catchy choruses. So turn it up and sing along. Just keep an eye out for Dead Man's Curve. It's a doozy.

Sean Daly can be reached at sdaly@sptimes.com or (727) 893-8467. His Pop Life blog is at blogs.tampabay.com/popmusic.

[Last modified March 5, 2008, 17:36:02]