By 2010, The Black Keys had been together for nearly a decade. They were doing well. Touring, signed to a label, putting out music that was well-received…not struggling to pay the bills, but not exactly a huge success either.
The duo – Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney – were seen as one of the “rock is back” acts of the early 2000s; a return to the look and sound of the 1970s, in which digital recording techniques were shunned, vintage equipment was prized, and beards were all but mandatory. The Black Keys appeared to be firmly planted in the second tier of this movement, just out of reach of the fame and acclaim of bands like The Strokes and The White Stripes.
And then they released Brothers.
The album was praised on all sides. It won three Grammy awards. Rolling Stone had it at number two on their “Best of 2010” list (behind Kanye), and it landed on just about everyone else’s best-of-the-year picks as well; Spin, Paste, Time. It was the breakthrough they needed to climb into that top tier of rock bands.
The song you’re listening to now, “These Days,” is the song that closes their breakthrough record, and there are two reasons I’m featuring it this week.
First: nostalgia.
This is, as you’ve noticed, the 500th song to be featured on this blog. As a result, I’m in a bit of a nostalgic mood, and everything about the Brothers album feels like it has one eye on the past. It was recorded at Muscle Shoals Sound Studio in Alabama, a legendary but underused studio where no album had been recorded in 30 years, and the songs on Brothers reverberate with an analog growl equal to anything The White Stripes ever put out. Even the typeface used on the album cover feels straight out of a 1975 yearbook.
Second: coincidence.
Brothers was released 500 weeks ago, on May 18, 2010, the day after I published the first post on this blog. And in the same way that Brothers changed everything for The Black Keys, deciding to write this blog was a bit of a turning point for me, too. Okay, I’m not writing in front of sold-out crowds, taking home any Grammys, or occupying any space on anyone’s best-of-year lists.
But it’s changed me as a listener. It hasn’t just documented my changing tastes in music; it has informed them. It’s been more fun than I thought it would be, and I’m ready for the next 500.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. The use of what sounds like a glockenspiel, tinkling away over the opening guitar chords, reminds me of the track we listened to back in week 50.
2. The whining lead guitar reminds me of the track we listened to back in week 213.
3. The sad edge to Auerbach’s voice, the combination of regret and perseverance, reminds me of the voice we listened to back in week 138.
Recommended listening activity:
Imagining what you might be doing on July 9, 2029.