Pop's in a holding pattern.
After 20's spent like he didn't care to see 30, fast forward 30 years and he's still here, putting out an album called Ready to Die, and by all accounts meaning it. And here he is, still again, still lurching along, outlasting not just Sid Vicious and Marc Bolan, but Lou Reed and Bowie, putting out an album that sounds designed to be his parting shot, his Blackstar, his You Want it Darker.
And that weariness is on his latest. But so is a restless, mechanical, unstoppable, strutting slither forward, into one night after another. Pop's cavernous, rounded late-era moan's as powerful as ever, pairing perfectly with Josh Homme's lithe production, that bass a taut muscle over visible bones.
For long stretches the album just puts one foot in front of the other, and risks getting boring and bored. But at the midway point, Sunday's soaring outro pours in sunlight, and the stark opener and delightfully unhinged closer make for perfect bookends.
Paraguay, in particular, man. We couldn't have had a few more of those on here? As it is, it sticks out -- a man trying to keep his cool cracking at the last second, giving you a parting glimpse of all the fire that was under that black coat all along 4/5
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