Villains

The results are both vintage QOTSA and something unnameable at the same time. [No. 146, p.58]

Villains, this deep and danceable delight, ends with two searing six minute tracks: the razor-blade blues of the White Stripes-ish The Evil Has Landed, and a sunrise-of-the-ancients pop finalé called Villains Of Circumstance.

The evolution of Queens of the Stone Age has been slow and steady; and 20 years in the band still sounds amazingly energized.

A lack of self-editing is the only real flaw on an album which proves that two decades into their career QOTSA are sounding fresher than ever.

No Queens record has prioritized groove like this, and it reboots their brand nicely.

This, then, is the sound of living in the moment and it’s glorious.

The band have retained their brusque character but it’s less ponderous than before, with several tracks taken at an unfeasibly rapid tempo; while Ronson has brought production clarity and a punchy funk sensibility that transforms QOTSA’s trademark robot-rock rhythms into something much more dynamic and danceable.

Villains [is] a dark joy, a record that offers visceral pleasure in its winking menace.

Queens of the Stone Age will never regain the shock value they had when Rated R came out, 17 years ago. But they don’t need to. Despite Homme’s self-mythologising, they long since ceased to be a desert rock band; they’re simply a great rock’n’roll group.

A much more cohesive album than ...Like Clockwork, one that seems hell-bent on turning out an incendiary dance-rock record rather than constantly shifting stylistic shape in the way that last LP did.

Cool and calculated, it's sure to rub listeners who are anything but the wrong way.

Villains is the kind of album that sits at the back of class openly smoking a cigarette but still manages to ace its exams at the end of the year.

Villains makes for a compelling lane change, finding the impetus to bring an interesting makeover. [12 Aug 2017, p.50]

It's both organic and future-facing. A true metamorphosis, this album sees Queens Of The Stone Age shedding an old identity to discover new ways of playing the same song. [Sep 2017, p.84]

QOTSA's seventh album wisely tweaks the recipe just enough to keep things spicy. [Sep 2017, p.114]

While Like Clockwork sometimes felt a little leaden, Villains flies by. [Sep 2017, p.31]

Even though it doesn’t do nearly enough to distinguish itself from the band’s earlier albums, it’s an enjoyable enough listen that it’s not too hard to excuse its flaws.

On the whole, Villains isn’t Homme’s strongest collection of songwriting. That said, it’s the first Queens Of The Stone Age album where the sounds behind it are consistently strong enough to carry the load.

For an outfit who’s claimed groove-rock for two decades, it’s a relief to hear what they sound like with a beat you can dance to. Now let’s see them keep it going.

An album that makes a virtue of its uneasiness, its unwillingness to settle down. Homme turns his restlessness into a virtue.

This record is strong from top to bottom, and another great entry into Queens of the Stone Age’s catalog.

The album is definitely progress, but maybe not as much progress as those of us eagerly awaiting new music were hoping for.

Ronson’s efforts can sometimes come across as superfluous since Villains does tend to drag during its last stretch without finding a way to refresh some of its tired, fuzzed-out riffs (sans for Villains of Circumstance, a multi-part epic that ends the album with show-stopping confidence). But make no mistake, this is a Queens record that has no pretenses, no false identity. And it provides just the right remedy to refuel rock radio’s loss of identity.

Though Villains is a perfectly solid, occasionally bloated QOTSA album, it’s the first to really feel like a missed opportunity.

If anything, Villains could have used more overt pop influences, as it may have resulted in more delightfully wild experiments like the closing “Villains of Circumstance,” whose sulking verses contrast with sweeping, glitzy choruses to suggest Michael Bolton as a deranged Weimar-era cabaret singer.

Villains isn’t always so smooth and several sections fall flat, like the staccato-spiked funk that surfaces midway through “The Evil Has Landed” or the melodically static refrains on “Fortress.” Nevertheless, the stalled moments don’t detract from the fun of the ride.

It’s a bold, fun gamble, and one with ample winnings.

Villains isn’t a terrible record, but it’s not a fantastic record either, and that’s perhaps the least kind thing that could be said about new material from a band which we’ve come to expect a lot from.