Album review: The Kings of Frog Island – 2

I was almost afraid to listen to The Kings Of Frog Island. They have such a stupid name that my expectations were already lowered before the disc slid into the CD player (and how long will it be before I stop saying that…?).

Instant Drone Factory had dealt a severe blow to my love of krautrock, and so a German-released stoner rock album had all the hallmarks of a disaster waiting to happen. Although I love stoner rock, I’d never heard of The Kings Of Frog Island before, so my preconceptions were non-existent. This is just fine because 2 is bloody awesome! Like a true distillation of the stoner rock ethic, The Kings Of Frog Island reference Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath and Hawkwind, but manage to wedge it all into their own surreal universe of toads and amphibians.

After the initial flowering of great stoner rock bands (Monster Magnet, Kyuss) and their own spin-offs and disciples (Fu Manchu, Orange Goblin, Sunno))))), Litmus and Queens Of The Stone Age) the scene seemed to have become stagnant and repetitive. Not any longer. It’s as if The Kings Of Frog Island have taken the brevity and wit of QOTSA (circa their self-titled debut and Rated R) and allied it to the raw weight and sonic depth of prime period Kyuss (Welcome To Sky Valley, Blues For The Red Sun), while seeming to carry on from where …And The Circus Leaves Town left off. The Kings Of Frog Island‘s desert sounds evoke sandy escarpments rather than industrial wastelands, which is odd because this troupe of prime sludge rock merchants appear to be London-based and UK-born.

2 also takes the necessary step of widening the musical palette of stoner rock somewhat by adding an Eastern sounding string section (famous sessioneer Gavin Wright has worked with Julian Cope, Page and Plant and many others), a surprisingly capable vocal section and an array of instrumentation that marks out The Kings Of Frog Island as innovators and traditionalists simultaneously.

Starting with the minute-long surreal declaration of independence that is “The Last Train” and ending with the twelve minute statement of purpose “Amphibia Rising”, the album rolls along like a freight train through the Sahara, running the gamut from dry dusty violin winds to headlong sections of doom-laden bass-end thrills.

In between, The Kings Of Frog Island have room for the Zeppelin-esque slide-blues of “The Watcher” and “Ride A Black Horse”, the prime Kyuss of “Hallucination”, the laid-back Black Crowes lo-fi of “Laid” and the Sabbath-like doom rock of “Witching Hour”. Chucking in references to Motorhead/Hawkwind (“The Watcher”) and Black Sabbath (“Welcome To The Void”) without covering the songs themselves is a respectful nod of the head that doesn’t get in the way of the band’s old/new aesthetic… although they’d probably baulk at the idea that they had an aesthetic.

“Joanne Marie” even manages the rare feat of producing a stoner rock love song that doesn’t sound either twee or sentimental – that’s got to be some kind of record in itself. And, God, I love those swirling, reaching-for-the-heavens, throaty slide guitar solos that pepper the album like fairy dust. Ally that to the speaker-melting bass throb of the rhythm section, and The Kings of Frog Island are a juggernaut of a band with one hand on the wheel, one hand holding a joint, one foot leaning on the accelerator and the other tapping in time to the music in the cab. This is the real stuff.

Look, here’s my reaction: I love 2 so much I’m going to search The Kings of Frog Island‘s debut album and buy it with my own money. That’s how impressed I am.