Photo Credit: Andreas Neumann
“I love animals so much,” Queens of the Stone Age frontman Josh Homme recently told NME. “They just do exactly what they’re supposed to. They fight to the bitter end, even with a broken leg.” On their eighth – and first post-pandemic – record titled In Times New Roman…, the band spends 47 minutes proving that the same goes for us humans. The past ten years have been littered with highs and lows for the Seattle rock band. Signing with Matador Records for a three-record deal saw them re-boosting their legendary status as the undisputed Kings (or Queens, rather) of slacker rock with their late-career highlight …In Clockwork, which reached the top spot of the Billboard 200.
Less encouraging, Josh Homme also separated from a 14-year marriage with his wife, just before the pandemic would force him to process his personal trauma in isolation. When it was time to get back to the studio and finish off the third and final album in the Matador trilogy, Josh felt for the first time in his career discouraged to make another record. But just like that animal, wounded and broken, he knew that there would be no other way than fighting himself through it.
The result is heavier, uglier, and muddier than anything they’ve done before, perfectly captured in the disharmonic opener “Obscenery,” setting the stage for the rest of the album both lyrically and musically while indirectly informing us that “this won’t be easy listening.” The following “Paper Machete” picks up the tempo, offering a fast-packed alt-rock banger, complete with Jon Theodore’s tight drumming, a guitar riff sounding like someone’s attempting to start a misfiring car, and a sweaty, hard-driving energy belonging to some of the fiercest work the band has ever come up with.
Some of that energy could’ve been needed for other parts of In Times New Roman…, though, as the band most of the time settles for a murkier, grimmer sound where deadpan dad rock stomping and stubborn headbanging is pushing things forward in a lukewarm, restrained pace. The closest we’re getting to something sounding harmonic is the late-album highlight “Emotion Sickness.” Its refrain could have belonged to a 1970s Boston track as Josh Homme is remarkably plainspoken about his breakup – “Baby don’t care for me // Had to let her go” – on a record that otherwise often feels desperate in its referential gloominess.
Like the font itself, In Times New Roman… isn’t the most spectacular option available – not even the nine-minute showstopper “Straight Jacket Fitting,” a slow-building piece of excellent but tedious piece of trademark stoner rock – but it does its job perfectly fine. Although not the most exciting album in their discography, the project comes off as yet another competent work affirming their status as one of 21st-century rock’s most respected bands. It’s proof that sometimes all you have to do is to keep your head down and continue living – because that’s simply the only option.