One thing
Rubber Factory is NOT is slick, but what it IS is a whole bunch of other, finer
things: it's an album that manages to swing like a rump-shaking backroom party
at 4 AM on one track ("Just Couldn't Tie Me Down") yet doesn't
hesitate to turn around and raise the hair on the back of your neck with
something eerie and lonely ("The Lengths"). Leaving the edges ragged
might not work for the greenswards of the downwardly mobile, but it's the sort
of thing that works just fine for music if you have the right touch, and the
Black Keys have that indelicacy down to a gutter science. Rubber Factory is raw
in the best meaning of the word. Rubber Factory is unadulterated and pure. Raw
in the Iggy and the Stooges sense. Raw in the manner of Charley Patton's
scratchiest gospel blues sides. Rubber Factory is the sound of The Black Keys
reveling in all their high ragged glory, but also coming into their own as
stunningly talented songwriters and producers. Its a classic album, vital and fresh,
that rewards the listener continually from start to finish.