Turn Blue

This record is guaranteed to indiscriminately piss off both kinds of Black Keys fans: the diehard purists yearning for the blues rock halcyon days and the recent devotees primed for another round of hooky singles.

Turn Blue pivots on such low-stakes grooves, the same ones sold so effectively to the mainstream. You could do a lot worse, but that of course is both a blessing and curse.

Turn Blue is a soft pack of post-coital smokes, and Marlboro Lights 100's at that. [No. 110, p.51]

It tries hard enough to break away from their mold, and even if it doesn't quite nail what they were going for, it rejuvenates The Black Keys enough to warrant a few repeated listenings.

On Turn Blue you can tell the duo remain integral and solidly at the core, new influences or not.

Auerbach and Carney don't tear up their blueprint, but tripping out their sound suits them. [Jun 2014, p.102]

This may be the most raucously uplifting divorce album ever heard.

Many will look for the moment when they can declare that the group has officially “sold out” or has become so entrenched in success than they no longer try anything new. This album shows neither of these characteristic and although far from a perfect album, the Black Keys have successfully added to their already impressive album with another solid record.

With its Magic Fly synthetic hustle, single Fever pulses with the same reductive pop genius, but doubtless deterred by the laws of diminishing returns the Keys have eschewed ab blanket reiteration--with mixed results. [Jun 2014, p.91]

Turn Blue is the most masterful representation to date of the duo’s successful transformation from lost-in-the-milieu garage rockers to game-changing, widely appealing songwriters.

It's not White Blood Cells or Icky Thump, but at least they no longer sound like they're producing records in a Black Keys factory.

At 11 tracks, Turn Blue doesn't quite fall prey to the late-album bloat of Brothers, but it is still one song too long.

Turn Blue may not rock as resoundingly as past works, but the added soul in Auerbach’s vocals, and the extra beauty of the tunes, give the album a slow-burn warmth.

As good as they are stepping into that spotlight, it’s hard not to wish they’d plumb the darkness even further.

Throughout Turn Blue, it's difficult to tell how invested these guys actually are in the music they're making, an indifferent attitude that encourages the listener to act in tandem.

The best tunes are the first and last in “Weight of Love” (where Auerbach unleashes a two-minute guitar solo of vintage psychedelia) and the Stones-like punch of “Gotta Get Away.” Otherwise, most songs merely drift away.

A pronounced feeling of descent pervades Turn Blue.

If you were hankering for a return to their garage-rock roots, then Turn Blue is going to disappoint; however, if you’ve liked where the band have gone since Dangermouse came on board, you’ll find plenty to appreciate here.

Feelings are always “heavy” or a “burden,” and love is consistently “dark” or “light”; it’s thematic territory that feels stale for the band, and the result is an album that aspires to talk about the complex nature of relationships, yet has nothing meaningful to say.

It’s surer and more satisfying than either of those previous albums [El Camino and Brothers], and seems less labored.

El Camino was the sound of The Black Keys flexing their muscles as they reached for that sword, but Turn Blue is the sound of The Black Keys baring their soul and testing the parameters.

There's still a two-man garage band in there, but Auerbach and Patrick Carney are currently catering to earbuds rather than stadiums.

The Black Keys' eighth long player isn't loaded with obvious hits, and that's more than okay--because this is a brave, varied and engaging collection of songs.

Over seven increasingly ambitious albums, they refined the approach, and Turn Blue contains their most atmospheric and somber music yet.

Turn Blue, though, is the sound of Auerbach and Carney eagerly and grandiosely taking things into their own (and, if you want, Burton’s) hands.

There’s a lot to like about Turn Blue, but it’s a cruel irony that the heaviest hand in Dan Auerbach’s warts-and-all confessional sometimes seems to belong to his producer.

Songs stretch out longer here than they have on any previous Black Keys LP, but this doesn't feel indulgent due to the precision of the production; things may seem to drift but every bit of fuzz and echo is in its right place.

This is another step along that path of evolution destined to appear on end of year best album lists, and (ducks from those crazed blues-starved fans of old) it’s quite possibly The Black Keys’ own best ever long player.

Turn Blue’s stealth seduction suggests this much: their wrong-footing instincts should keep them on the right track.

Turn Blue is less immediate than its predecessor, more sprawling and--according to the band--designed to be savoured in headphones.

Much like that fancy sports car, Turn Blue is big, bombastic and very well made. Just, at points, a teensy bit ostentatious.

It all sounds great, but the songs don't sink in, don't push past the surface.

For all its musical diversity, Turn Blue never sounds incoherent.

It's meticulously executed but slightly (and sleepily) monochromatic.

Turn Blue is a genuine turning point--into a decisively original rock, with a deeper shade of blues.

If El Camino was the Keys' catchiest album. Turn Blue turns out to be their sneakiest, subtlest and most seductive. [Jun 2014, p.65]

Turn Blue is pure searing sexiness, hotter than a Nashville afternoon. Their best yet.