So now we’re officially in the KTB’s second era, with this being second post-hiatus release after ‘Appalachian Incantation’. It’s slim pickings, at only eight tracks; but then KTB have always been about quality over quantity. Their economical instrumental setup (less their self-titled debut) means that ‘V’, as always, is driven by a thunderous and solid rhythm section, with the guitarist driving the narrative. In lieu of a vocalist (more of that later), this is what grips and propels us through the tracks, in a progressive rather than linear fashion.
The opening ‘47’ is making it clear that they once again mean business, unlike its more laid-back and loose predecessor. The tone here is much more urgent, compressed, with the edge of darkness that permeated the self-titled. But ‘50’ has a lot more grunt than usual, even bringing to mind latter-day High On Fire, but without the cheesy lyrics. ‘48’ is a lot more sultry, with an interesting stop-start riff that sifts seamlessly into a desert-dry journey. And this is Karma To Burn at their absolute majestic height: top down, speed up and not giving a fuck.
However, there is a big but here. Having a vocalist was never on the cards for them; Roadrunner bullied them into it for their debut. But since they had Hannibal Lector on vocals, that was OK. Now, with years and years of instrumental, when they shuffle their sound to make space for Dave Davies, it reduces their flow, like peppering a paragraph with commas. And although ‘The Cynic’ and ‘Jimmy D’ aren’t terribly terrible examples of hard rock, they do feel compromised, much like the vocal tracks on the previous albums. However, DD does have a cracking voice on the closing Sabbath cover ‘Never Say Die’, with the bouncing riff an undoubted influence on KTB’s own style.
Ultimately, although a bit skimpy, this is their most cohesive work since ‘Wild Wonderful...Purgatory’. It’s an all-American slice of American rock, that doesn’t meander quite like the records that have straddled either side of their hiatus, and has more memorable riffs. Of course, the best way to hear this is in a basement club with a bottle of beer in hand, and the pounding ’51’ fill the room and watching the younger folks dance. But it’s further proof that the Richmond trio have a lot left in the tank.
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Steve Jones
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