Black Rebel Motorcycle Club: Take Them On, On Your Own

By RUSSELL BAILLIE

(Herald rating: * * *)

The Californian trio is due to roar into Queen St in early October two nights after the White Stripes hit town. They arrive on the strength of their breakthrough 2001 self-titled debut - an album which attempted to make the world safe again for the sort of mumbly, reverb-heavy fuzz-rock which last sounded exciting in the 80s heyday of the Jesus and Mary Chain.

And now here's number two, an album which further confirms BRMC as gloomy Anglophiles with very big amplifiers doing not much that is original. But they still make it sound strangely thrilling with its blend of surliness, decibels and keep-it-simple-stupid songwriting which results in frequent head-butt choruses that can leave one humming - loudly and antisocially - for hours afterwards.

Sometimes here, they can come on like a stripped-back high-revving early Oasis (the opener Stop, the guitar effects-heavy In Like the Rose). Sometimes they're spraying protest slogans on their wall of noise (US Government; the anti-apathy Generation delivered with apt amounts of ennui). Sometimes they bring out the Mary Chain memorial tambourine (Shade of Blue) or attempt to show there is a sensitive side to their goth-rock demeanour (the acoustic And I'm Aching).

Fortunately throughout, their melodies keep leeching nicely through the squall, which reaches psychedelic proportions in some parts, and all that bad attitude. Another noisy, catchy batch of Club tunes all round, as well as something of a high-volume warning for that gig.

Label: Virgin