Peace, Love, Death Metal

Review
**Eagles of Death Metal - Peace, Love, Death Metal**
★★★★☆
Jesse Hughes has never been one to shy away from contradiction, and the title of Eagles of Death Metal's fourth studio album serves as the perfect encapsulation of everything that makes this band so gloriously confounding. Despite its name suggesting some sort of brutal sonic assault, "Peace, Love, Death Metal" delivers exactly what longtime fans have come to expect from Hughes and his rotating cast of desert rock accomplices: a swaggering collection of garage rock anthems that wouldn't sound out of place blasting from a Trans Am speeding through the Mojave at midnight.
The album arrived in 2019 carrying the weight of recent history on its shoulders. Three years had passed since the horrific Bataclan theater attack in Paris that claimed 90 lives during the band's performance, an event that shattered the carefree hedonism that had always been Eagles of Death Metal's calling card. Rather than retreat into darkness or abandon their trademark sleazy rock and roll swagger, Hughes and company doubled down on their mission to spread what they've always called "the boots electric" – that primal, undeniable urge to move your body to a relentless beat.
Musically, the album finds the band operating in familiar territory while subtly expanding their sonic palette. The DNA remains unchanged: fuzzed-out guitar riffs that sound like they were recorded in a garage lined with shag carpet, Hughes' distinctive falsetto vocals that channel equal parts Robert Plant and a lounge singer who's had one too many whiskey sours, and rhythms designed to make even the most stoic listener tap their foot. But there's an underlying maturity here, a sense that the band understands the power of their music to heal as much as it does to make people forget their troubles for three and a half minutes at a time.
The album's standout tracks showcase the full range of what makes Eagles of Death Metal such an enduring cult phenomenon. "Got a Woman" opens the proceedings with a strut so confident it borders on arrogant, Hughes delivering lines about feminine mystique over a groove that seems to physically grab listeners by the collar. "Silverlake (K.S.O.F.M.)" serves as perhaps the album's most immediate earworm, a piece of pure pop confection wrapped in distorted guitars and attitude. Meanwhile, "The Reverend" finds the band at their most anthemic, crafting a sing-along chorus that feels destined for late-night festival crowds and dive bar jukeboxes alike.
Perhaps most impressively, "Talking Head" manages to capture lightning in a bottle once again, proving that Hughes hasn't lost his ability to craft the kind of instantly memorable hooks that made early tracks like "I Only Want You" and "Speaking in Tongues" such enduring favorites. The song builds from a whispered come-on to a full-throated celebration of rock and roll excess, complete with handclaps and a guitar solo that sounds like it was beamed in directly from 1973.
What's most striking about "Peace, Love, Death Metal" is how it manages to maintain the band's essential spirit while acknowledging that the world has changed around them. These aren't songs about conquering the world or living without consequences – they're about finding joy and connection in an increasingly fractured landscape. Hughes has always been a preacher of sorts, spreading the gospel of rock and roll salvation, but here his message feels more urgent and necessary than ever.
The album's legacy continues to grow as both a testament to resilience and a reminder of rock music's power to unite people across cultural and geographical boundaries. In an era where guitar-driven rock often feels like an endangered species, Eagles of Death Metal remain committed to keeping the flame alive, one fuzzed-out riff at a time.
"Peace, Love, Death Metal" may not reinvent the wheel, but it proves that sometimes the old ways are still the best ways. In a world that often feels like it's spinning out of control, there's something deeply comforting about an album that exists purely to make you move your hips and forget your troubles. Jesse Hughes and his merry band of desert rock disciples have once again delivered exactly what the world needs: a reminder that rock and roll, at its core, remains a force for good in the universe.
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