The Kings of Leon's action-packed debut LP hardly skips a beat. The sound is the rough, raw and distinctive new resonance coming from a reawakened south. From the twang of Nathan Followill's gee-tar to Caleb Followill's whiskey-soaked rebel growl, this fires on all cylinders to get feet tappin' and heads a-rockin'.
The King's background is of the sort that garners legend and is rooted in the rich tradition of blues and rock in the American South. Three brothers (Caleb, vocals; Jared, bass; and Nathan, drums) were raised by a Pentecostal preacher who traveled with his sons, spreading his message across the south.
The boys received their unique education in equal parts from both the pulpit and the car stereo; gorging on influences like the Rolling Stones and Neil Young (when their mother wasn't around to object), they became ingrained in the ways of rock. They spent their youth traveling between Okalahoma City and Memphis, and eventually settled down in Nashville, Tenn. There they recruited first cousin Matthew Followill to play lead guitar and soon sat down to record "Holy Roller Novocain," their stunning 2003 debut EP.
The release of "Youth and Young Manhood" quells the fear that the boys wouldn't be able to produce another powerful work in the midst of the publicity and pressure they reaped with the 15-minute EP. As soon as "Red Morning Light" comes roaring out the gate, with its twanging guitars and rich vocals, it becomes clear that the boys are more than over-hyped neopyhtes.
"Youth and Young Manhood," produced by Ethan Johns (Whiskeytown, Ryan Adams), falls in the middle ground between neo-classicism and garage revival -- between Keith Richards and Jack White. The contradiction between the King's classic look and derivative sound does not diminish its contribution to modern rock, but is in fact a powerful compliment to both the Followill's sound as well as their influences.A punch of raw adrenaline mixed with youthful inhibitions, the album feeds off the "rock and roll, give 'em hell attitude" in a way that would make Zeppelin proud. They disregard the responsibility of oncoming adulthood and focus on their hook-laden southern rock aesthetic.
Several of the tracks have the feel as if they were plucked from the canon of classic rock. "Joe's Head" would have fit right in as the first track on side four of "Eat a Peach" and "Trani" seems cribbed from "Beggars Banquet." Where was "Dusty" on "Zeppelin III?" The guttural drawl of Brian Johnson's howls threw Caleb's throat on "Spiral Staircase." The plaguing question lingers: Are the Kings clearly sighting these influences in order to ordain themselves in a rich rock lineage that they are striving to take part in or in order to establish much a wanted credibility?
Other tracks, primarily those re-recorded and bolstered from their initial EP("California Waiting," "Molly's Chambers" and particularly "Holy Roller Novocain") are exemplary of the Kings bombast. They are Rock©, true and through, in its simplest and most basic form. They conjure to mind an image of the Southern Strokes, a likeness donned on them by many critics, especially those across the Atlantic. The Kings of Leon and the Strokes, with their wild hair, nostalgic dress and the barely discernable vocal styles of Caleb Followill and Julian Casablancas, respectively, are representative of an era in rock and roll that both bands hold tightly to yet simultaneously are able to deviate from while producing influential works on their own accord.
Though the Kings of Leon have won the praises of the press, the winding road ahead is hardly unblemished. They need to find their own sound, and theirs alone, and push it to the limit and back in a single album. A band can site their influences and pay a well-deserved tribute to them; but it is another accomplishment to rely solely on that band's dynamics.
Hopefully as the Kings grow out of youth and into manhood, their music will reach a height that will elevate them past being simply a footnote in another bands lineage.