Dead Quiet

Like their name, Dead Quiet always sounds out of place. They’re from B.C., and, given their preference for gigantic riffs, are lumped into the maligned “stoner rock” genre. As such, you’d expect them to be lumbering, smoked-out hair farmers, but that’s not really the truth. With their third album, it’s clear there is nothing laid-back about Dead Quiet. Riffs are certainly their music’s bedrock, but these seven songs are too nimble and dynamic to be considered part of the sludgy morass of the genre. Most songs creep over the six-minute mark, and the band blasts through every second with epic builds, fleet transitions, and oodles of solos. All that sounds awesome, but Dead Quiet further accomplishes superiority thanks to two factors. The first is the syrupy sounds of the Hammond organ, which is right up front with the guitars and adding just the right amount of class and mystery. The second is the glue holding all this escalating riff-tacular chaos together: main man Kevin Keegan. Next to the organ, his voice is Dead Quiet’s singular weapon, as it apes a manic revival tent preacher screaming to the world their sordid tales of sexual occultery. It’s a rich, raw sound that doesn’t have a comparison, much less an equal, and on Truth & Ruin, Dead Quiet are dead set on doing things their way.

-Justin Allec

5 out of 5