Authentically retro

The search for authenticity may be the most impossible and misguided goal in rock ‘n’ roll. It’s impossible because authenticity isn’t something you can achieve—you either are or you aren’t. And misguided because, in the end, it doesn’t really matter one way or another.

For a demonstration of both principles, just look at The Black Keys and their singer/guitarist Dan Auerbach.

Back in 2002, The Keys fired up their engines in their Akron, Ohio home and started spewing forth some of the dirtiest down-home-style blues heard in a long while. Their albums since have been full of catchy numbers and near-perfect rock songs—each record a refreshing blast precisely because its hummed like an earlier time, when guitars sounded like guitars and men decried women for their devious, evil ways.

Though they sound retro, The Black Keys are still authentic, their music obviously birthed from a deep love of classic blues and a belief in the ascendant qualities of rock. This cannot be faked, but is also, sadly, a purely subjective quality. What’s authentic to me might not be authentic to you, which just adds to the immaterial nature of the distinction.

One day, while listening to The Keys’ fantastic 2004 album Rubber Factory, a co-worker walked by, said hello, and then spit out a quick opinion: “This band just wishes they were in the ’60s.”

This may true—Auerbach has recently taken to saying he refuses to listen to any post-1972 music—but based on her tone, I could tell my co-worker meant this as a form of derision. For her, authenticity stemmed from “originality,” another subjective point, and she could tell after about 10 seconds that The Black Keys were not reinventing the basics of rock ‘n’ roll.

Of course, this misses the point entirely. Authentic or not, The Black Keys write great songs and perform them with energy, and as popular music advances forward, it necessarily looks both ahead and backward. New things sound old, old things sound new and music is constantly cannibalizing its past. To want it any other way would be too strict a rule.

Which brings me, finally, to Dan Auerbach’s new solo album Keep it Hid. The importance of originality is notable here because, perhaps even more than The Black Keys’ albums, Keep it Hid has reverberations distinctly from the past.

The album opens with “Trouble Weighs a Ton,” a simple, bluesy, gospel number that showcases Auerbach’s twangy baritone over a light guitar riff. From there, the album jogs through almost every permutation of blues-based rock, from heavier Zepplin-esque numbers to quiet folk tunes, and even psych-like portions. Keep it Hid sounds like a collection of songs that fit just outside The Black Keys’ mold, and this diversity makes for a lively listen.

Auerbach’s backing band in this instance holds their own, accentuating his soul-soaked songwriting in a wash of reverb and harmony. Like the best vintage rock, their playing is loose but competent. And because there’s a full band—unlike the barebones guitar and drum duo of The Black Keys—Auerbach’s writing sounds fleshier, though less precise.

For his tour rolling through town this Wednesday, Auerbach will be backed by a full band, so if you’ve ever wished that the Keys were a little heftier, well, this represents your best shot.