Royal Blood - Rock with noble blood

Mike Kerr and Ben Thatcher: two English lads with seemingly nothing remarkable about them, who in the mid-2010s suddenly rewrote the rules of rock. They did it at a time when the genre's future looked precarious, with the youngest listeners drawn more to rap, the rising trap scene and R&B, while the older crowd was still waiting for the new Ac/Dc record, blissfully unaware of the whole indie-rock world that had been evolving into a thousand different shades since the turn of the millennium. And Royal Blood are a bit indie too, but also very stoner (a streak of Queens of the Stone Age comes through clearly), plenty alternative, and even a touch hard-rock. Theirs is a sound that's modern yet traditional at the same time, built on energy and conviction, but also steeped in that particular millennial sensibility running through the musical output of their entire generation.

Kerr (bass, vocals, born 1990) and Thatcher (drums, 1988; incidentally, one of the most talented drummers of his generation) met as teenagers amid the backstreets of Worthing, West Sussex, a town that had previously produced almost no famous English artists, with the notable exception of Billy Idol, who spent his youth there in the 1970s. A classic English port town, not far from Brighton and looking out onto the Channel. An ideal backdrop for building an essential, direct rock sound, loosely related (though not too closely) to punk, made of toughness and resolve.

Even though Kerr and Thatcher played together in a band, Flavour Country (with Kerr on keyboard and keytar), back in the 2000s, their story as Royal Blood actually begins separately at the start of the following decade. The band forms in 2011 in Worthing, but initially it features Kerr on bass, Joe Dennis on guitar and Mike Swann on drums. Thatcher isn't there. In 2012 the guitarist leaves the band, and that's when the most distinctive trait of Royal Blood's sound comes to life: the fusion of guitar and bass tones into a single instrument, played by Kerr while he also sings, achieved thanks to the clever use of effects, pedals and specific amplification.

Kerr and Swann temporarily relocate to Australia, where they record an early version of what would later become one of the band's classics, "Come On Over". But success doesn't come, and Kerr decides to go back to England. Legend has it that Thatcher himself picks him up at the airport, and that, as if taking it as a sign of fate, the two choose to carry on together under the name Royal Blood, still as a duo and once again using the original bass/guitar formula devised by Kerr.

Bass and drums

At first things don't go well, and the two have to go through the usual apprenticeship that every self-respecting rock band faces, building a career live, in clubs. Unable to find anyone willing to book them, Royal Blood initially only show up at open-mic competitions, while continuing to write and rehearse in the meantime. Everything changes when they manage to sign with a Warner subsidiary and start being represented by the same management team as the Arctic Monkeys. And it's actually Matt Helders who boosts their visibility, wearing one of their t-shirts at Glastonbury Festival in 2013.

The ground is set, and on November 11th of that same year Royal Blood's first official single comes out: it's called "Out Of The Black", and it immediately wins over an audience hungry for young, fresh, incisive rock. As a B-side, a re-recorded version of "Come On Over", later released as a single in its own right, confirms the pair's strong songwriting and performance skills and immediately helps establish them as a solid, rising act built on firm instrumental grounding; an element that, incidentally, puts the duo on a direct collision course with a music landscape, that of the early 2010s, increasingly dominated by digital production, live shows with pre-recorded backing tracks, pitch correction and performances where analog instruments were practically absent. The contrast is stark and obvious.

More singles follow, all among the best songs of what would become the duo's eponymous debut album. There's "Little Monster", "Come On Over", "Figure It Out" and "Ten Tonne Skeleton", the latter two easily ranking among the best rock songs of 2014. Kerr writes all the songs and all the lyrics, and his style as a songwriter is immediately clear: cohesive, consistent, built entirely around powerful, essential riffs, distorted just enough but mainly focused on a crucial rhythmic role within the songs, working in tandem with Thatcher's drum parts. Rhythm is, in fact, the most important component of Royal Blood's rock sound, expressed in songs that are fast but also syncopated, driving and intriguing in how they build dark, though not overly violent, atmospheres.

Riffs, energy and cynicism

The first album, self-titled Royal Blood, comes out on August 25, 2014, right in the middle of summer. Audiences had already gotten to know them through the videos for the early singles, almost all centred on simple live performances by the duo in small settings like clubs and intimate gigs, as if to underline their direct, no-frills musical approach, free of embellishment and rhetoric but aimed at a new expression of good old, solid rock'n'roll. And the formula works, especially with the new millennial audience looking for genre icons who are also their contemporaries, but also with slightly older listeners in search of a classic, energetic and engaging rock sound that doesn't necessarily follow, as mentioned earlier, the overwrought melancholic introspection of indie.

The music Royal Blood have made since their debut album (which, incidentally, has remained more or less the same to this day, since it hasn't undergone any dramatic evolution, being already remarkably cohesive on its own) can't exactly be called original, yet it comes across as such within the mid-2010s landscape, and not just because of Kerr's innovative approach to the bass. As mentioned, there's a lot of Queens of the Stone Age in their sound, but you can also sense the urgency of a certain strand of British punk – albeit a very serious and bold one, not the carefree, "pub rock" variety of the Libertines or the Jam. The two-piece format, meanwhile, recalls other famous names on the music scene like the now-disbanded White Stripes, and the Black Keys, who were riding high during those same years. Both of these are bands whose style can be linked to that of Royal Blood partly because of the shared stripped-down format (always just two instruments played at once, by necessity).

Kerr writes lyrics about relationships, but experienced through strong metaphors tinged with violence (“I've got a gun for a mouth/ And a bullet with your name on” – "Out Of The Black"), nihilism (“There is no God/ And I don't really care” – "Come On Over") and self-pity laced with resentment (“Vorrei che mi importasse di meno/ Ma ho paura che non sia così/ Non potrebbe importartene di meno/ Quindi immagino che non ti importerà” – "Careless"). In "Ten Tonne Skeleton", a past, over relationship is compared precisely to the carcass of an unimaginable prehistoric animal, such must have been the importance of the relationship and the impact of its end. The track stands out on the album especially for its syncopated rhythm and the driving riff that underpins its uneasy, almost eerie atmosphere; the stunning video also plays its part, built on mysterious, equally unsettling imagery, focusing on the fear of the "unseen".

"Figure It Out" deserves a mention of its own, an extremely powerful track with an exemplary rhythm, a simple but brilliant riff and a blistering ending. It's the most existential song on the album (“Diventa difficile dormire/ Il sangue è nei miei sogni/ L’amore mi sta uccidendo/ Sto cercando di capirci qualcosa”), in which Kerr presents himself as a necessarily cunning, cynical and shrewd figure, attitudes adopted to counter life's difficulties and to outsmart everyone else (“Ho rotto la mia scarpa/ Sono scivolato e sono caduto su di te/ Ma non sapevi che l’avevo pianificato”). In the very clever video, we see a girl wandering through the city, unable to remember how she got there or where she is; in reality she has been kidnapped, and the grim truth of her situation dawns on her just in time for her to escape her captor, in an alternating contrast of red and blue filters representing her confused state of mind. A fitting metaphor for the song's subtle, cold undertones.

The success of the debut album is excellent and immediately establishes the duo among the new rock acts to watch, earning them several awards and quickly propelling them towards fame: by the mid-2010s Royal Blood aren't quite filling stadiums (not on their own, at least), but they're not far off. They play with Iggy Pop and Foo Fighters, at Glastonbury and Reading Festival, launching into international tours that take them across Europe and the United States, where in 2015 they also perform at the prestigious Coachella Festival, later going on to play the famous Rock in Rio in Brazil. The album reaches number one on the rock charts in the United States, the United Kingdom and Ireland (and number 83 in Italy), also cracking the top ten in Canada, Australia and New Zealand. Beyond the duo's solid sound, the album's cover art also makes quite an impression, created by London artist Dan Hillier: it depicts Pachamama, a Quechua word for Mother Earth. The artwork evokes a sense of mystery, while the stark black-and-white style, later reused as well, perfectly sums up the essential, direct colour palette of the band's songs. The icing on the cake: the track "Blood Hands" is featured in the blockbuster "The Divergent Series: Insurgent", bringing the duo even more popularity.

So Dark?

By 2017 the time is right for the second album, How Did We Get So Dark?, presented with an equally cryptic cover showing two women positioned so that their faces are hidden, one facing forward and the other turned away, on either side of what looks like a large black table. Here too the black-and-white theme recurs, underlining the simplicity and harshness of the duo's music. The album shines with singles like "I Only Lie When I Love You", backed by an eye-catching video showing Kerr and Thatcher filmed from different angles in constant motion, defying gravity. Then there's "Lights Out", whose video shows the two playing in a room from whose walls and ceiling various figures start to emerge, swimming as if they were underwater. Ambitious videos, clearly shot with a bigger budget, signalling Royal Blood's career leap and moving beyond the purely "live" and stripped-down dimension seen in the videos for the debut album's singles. Musically, the second full-length doesn't stray far from the first: there's a lot of Josh Homme in it, a lot of Jack White, and a touch of Arctic Monkeys.

The songs all revolve around solid riffs over which Kerr glides with a free, melodic yet also disenchanted voice. Within the tracklist, the one that truly stands out is "She's Creeping", perhaps one of their most underrated songs ever, notable for building an atmosphere that is, for once, not simply energetic but also somewhat ironic and sarcastic. The song is about a toxic love and dependence on a relationship from which one finally needs to break free. Kerr sings: “Perché ho smesso di ascoltare/ Sto solo aspettando la risposta a una domanda che conosco già/ Ti deluderò” and “Le parole sono così economiche/ Ma di recente mi sono sentito come se vivessi sempre nella tua ombra/ Quando non sei attorno”. More classic is the theme tackled in "Lights Out", a song about the suffering caused by lost love (“I miei occhi bruciano ancora di rosso/ Quindi spegni le luci/ Non sei così difficile da dimenticare/ Con tutte le luci spente), mentre “I Only Lie When I Love You” echoes the typically very cynical view of relationships around which Royal Blood, and especially Kerr as a lyricist, build many of their songs: “Mento solo quando ti amo/ Striscio solo quando cado a terra/ Piangi solo quando ti amo/ Mento solo quando emetto un suono”.

Among the other tracks, special mention goes to "Where Are You Now?", a song with an almost punk drive that nonetheless dresses itself up with a tempo-shifting chorus and strong atmosphere-building, from which the Queens of the Stone Age influence emerges more than ever; then "Don't Tell", a "slower" and more evocative song compared to the others, almost whispered so to speak, whose vocal performance strongly recalls Matt Bellamy, with solo bass-guitar passages in the style of Jack White; and "Hook, Line & Sinker", a fine, driving hard-rock track with strong riffs that is perhaps the song that would have fit most naturally on the band's first album rather than on this one. And finally there's "Hole In Your Heart", in which we hear for the first time a keyboard used to shape a verse that's very Arctic Monkeys, subtle and seductive, alternating with a far harder, more brutal refrain.

Overall, the album doesn't add a great deal to the style developed on the previous record, but there's a clear desire for growth running through it, evidenced by the growing complexity of the bass constructions and especially by the remarkable work on vocal harmonies carried out by Kerr, who sings with himself, discovering the possibilities of his voice and exploiting them more and more in broad contrast with the sturdiness of the guitar-and-drums wall that underpins the whole instrumental set. Conceptually, as the title suggests, it seems to reflect on the increasingly "dark" and therefore contemptuous, resentful nature of human beings, whose evolution is obviously tied to the imperfections of relationships (romantic or otherwise) and their failure. But there's no pretense of philosophical elaboration here: Kerr simply sets various thoughts and outbursts of his to music, without necessarily pinpointing a solution.

The album once again achieves considerable success in Britain, the United States and various top tens (the Netherlands, Canada, Belgium, Australia, New Zealand), this time reaching a notable number 29 in Italy. Meanwhile, the duo embarks on new, successful tours across Europe and the United States, the latter unsurprisingly including several dates alongside Queens of the Stone Age.

Typhoons

A clear leap forward in the duo's sound comes with Typhoons, their third album, released in 2021. From the very first track, "Trouble's Coming", the sound feels renewed, fresh, more polished and dressed in a more colourful production. This is certainly down to a change of personnel behind the mixing desk, with Tom Dalgety - producer of the first two albums (who's also worked with Pixies and Band Of Skulls, to give an idea) - giving way to Paul Epworth (Bloc Party, Maxïmo Park, Foster The People) and, above all, to what is by now effectively a guardian figure for the duo: none other than Josh Homme, invited this time to oversee directly the sound of his disciples' album. Even the cover art, which for the first time embraces colour rather than sticking to the black-and-white scheme of the previous records, signals the thickening of the band's sound as they search for a wider, more open palette. We see a kind of snapshot of a drumstick being twirled, creating a sort of circular visual effect filled in specific spots with shades of red and blue. An image that suggests a whole new dynamism, one embraced by the duo on the new album, against which the "older" songs actually sound a bit stiff and overly composed.

Critics have also linked this renewed dynamism to the sound of certain Daft Punk productions (think of "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger", for example), and the reference isn't off the mark. At the same time, it's worth remembering that by the dawn of the 2020s the new English rock scene had already evolved: having consolidated their position within the genre, Royal Blood, as millennials, feel the urge to try different things, and have no qualms about contaminating their style with influences not strictly tied to six (or rather, four) strings. Make no mistake, it's still rock we're talking about: but the work on more imaginative rhythms (clearly audible in "Who Needs Friends", with percussion atypical for the duo) and livelier compositions is clearly the result of a desire for expansion that is also, and above all, a sign of maturity.

It also seems that much of the album's writing came out of a difficult period in which Kerr sought sobriety, having been left half-wrecked after a stretch of constant partying on tour with QOTSA. And it's precisely the "disco" influences, which burst forth during the writing of the third album, that drummer Thatcher credits as the way out of that creative impasse, helping Kerr both in his recovery and in his growth as a songwriter. An example of how looking beyond one's own limits and convictions can often lead to exceptional results.

As a result, the conceptual inspiration behind the record shifts from the past: no longer bitter commentary on failed romantic relationships, but reflections on life's difficulties, on stagnation and on how to overcome it by facing obstacles and embracing change. In "Million And One", for instance, Kerr sings: “Tutto quel tempo ero fuori controllo/ Tutto quello che volevo era che qualcuno mi portasse a casa/ Tutte quelle notti mi sentivo solo/ Tutto quello di cui avevo bisogno era di qualcuno in un milione e uno”; in "Trouble's Coming": “Lascio che i miei demoni mi intrappolino e mi soffochino su di me/ Non posso riempire questi buchi che sto scavando/ Non posso fermare il mio cuore quando sta affondando/ Ma se potessi, lo farei”; in "Typhoons": “Ho bisogno di svegliarmi/ Dovrei affrontare la realtà/ Potrei calmare la tempesta/ Se lo volessi”; and in "Boilermaker", perhaps the best song on the album: "I was looking for some kind of saviour/ Someone who still counted on my worst behaviour". In this sense, the "typhoons" mentioned in the title seem to represent a series of genuine emotional upheavals that, like whirlwinds, sweep up the individual (Kerr) against his will, forcing him to find a balance that is also an escape route from the stormy, destructive forces of his own emotions.

Sonically, the album comes across as highly rhythmic and almost "danceable", one might say, with great emphasis on building distorted yet fast-moving riffs that fit neatly with the sustained, layered rhythms constructed by Thatcher. "Trouble's Coming", "Oblivion", "Typhoons" and "Boilermaker" are all examples of this new, more refined approach. "Million And One" is perhaps the most "electronic" track on the record (take that with a grain of salt), with keyboards playing a very important role, while "Limbo" comes across as a rather reflective, atmospheric and evocative piece, symptomatic of a subtler, less obvious sonic search. "Mad Vision" sounds perhaps more like a Justice track than a Daft Punk one, very plastic and hinting at a certain indie-rock sensibility; closing things out, meanwhile, is a genuine piano ballad, the first proper song conceived as such in the band's history, which therefore stands out sharply from the rest, with Kerr's voice arriving in echoes over an emotional vocal and a hazy, almost hypnotic arrangement. An album that is, in the end, a small but significant experiment, one that could foreshadow the duo's future adoption of still more different and unpredictable sounds - an evolution that leaves a thousand doors open.

Deep Waters

One of these doors opens inward, as becomes clear with the release of the fourth album, Back To The Water Below, in 2023. If the third record is the album of emotional turmoil and mood storms, the fourth is finally the album of introspection, melancholy and hesitation. Yes, because it's as if, for the first time, Kerr and Thatcher truly stop to take a look at themselves, and at the direction their music is heading. The new record contains very few tracks (albeit notable ones) that follow the duo's classic stoner style; most of the songs instead experiment with acoustic tones, hazy arrangements, full sounds and a wall of sound in which, for the first time, piano, acoustic guitar and even subtle orchestration find ample room. Somewhere in the middle, hints emerge recalling Radiohead's "The Bends" (on "The Firing Line") or early Muse, or Arctic Monkeys' "Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino" (on "There Goes My Cool"); and shifting sideways, the pair also rediscover their English roots in songs that could be called distinctly Brit (perhaps not "pop", but maybe "rock") such as "How Many More Times", which could pass for a track by one of the two Gallagher brothers (Liam, perhaps), or "High Waters".

The more "brutal" rock side is concentrated especially in the two opening tracks, "Mountains At Midnight" and "Shiner In The Dark", and at the centre of the tracklist in "Tell Me When It's Too Late" and "Triggers"; excellent songs that certainly satisfy the fanbase and longtime followers, but which at the same time make it clear that this isn't the direction the two are interested in pursuing. Indeed, a statement from the duo included with the album reads: "We wanted to remind you who we are and what we do before we drag you down the rabbit hole with us"; where the rabbit hole represents an immersion into a world of doubts, uncertainties, hesitations and unsteady steps, certainly not typical of a band as energetic and aggressive as this one. In this sense, the band undergoes a clear evolution: Kerr, in particular, establishes himself as a songwriter with a now broader, more open vision, refusing to be constrained by shadowy riffs and tight rhythms, willing to discover and embrace a whole world of new sounds just to be able to express what he wants to say. Which is, often, explicit cries for help. Telling in this regard is the closing track, "Waves", in which the bassist/singer/multi-instrumentalist sings: “Ma dove andrei? Che cosa prenderei?/ Se mai mi trovassi a scivolare via/ Non lasciarmi soffocare come se non fossi nulla da salvare/ Se mi perdessi giù sotto le onde”; or, in "Pull Me Through": “Affondando verso il fondo/ Perso ma non dimenticato/ Giù per andare ancora/ Il cuore che oscilla come un sacco da boxe/ Aspetto che tu/ Mi trascini oltre”.

It's no coincidence that the theme of water and oceans recurs often throughout the album, starting with the cover art depicting a jellyfish glowing in the dark (or, again, in the lyrics: “Sul precipizio, sopra l’abisso/ Oceani oscuri si infrangono/ Mi inghiottono per intero” - "How Many More Times"), and water as an element proves particularly useful as a metaphor for a situation that's uncertain, difficult, but at the same time far calmer and more peaceful than the typhoons faced previously.

After the storm comes the calm, in other words, and we can imagine that these dark waters are the result, in their marshy, stagnant essence, precisely of the unforeseen stirring brought about by those winds and clouds. If the wind is something to resist, to fight against, whose force must be reined in, the waters, by contrast, are something to climb out of but also something to learn to know, discovering how to swim in them so as not to drown and instead stay afloat. This concept is evident in Royal Blood's choice to produce this album themselves this time, as a duo, without the help of any outside collaborator. The result can only be an extremely personal work, in which what emerges above all (the verb is used deliberately) are Mike Kerr's qualities as a songwriter and his vision of a path that, for the two of them, differs from the one followed previously, made up of exploration, searching, openness. It's hard to say whether this is just a transitional phase for them, the beginning of something new or the end of something old. What's clear is that Royal Blood have surpassed themselves, avoiding getting stuck among the lesser names of the English rock revival, and now aspiring to a brand-new sound that isn't yet fully visible but, given time, will surely arrive.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google