Youth & Young Manhood

With their impressive hair and sideburns and deep south backwoodsman vibe, a first glance at Kings Of Leon suggests a US equivalent of the Darkness – the potential novelty aspect heightened by their supposed background as the three sons (and one nephew) of an eccentric Baptist preacher.

Unlikely as all this may seem, Youth & Young Manhood proves to be very much the real deal, a refreshing blast of a record that might just see the Kings become the cult rock band of the summer. Their sound is a hotch potch of American musical history, as if someone had pulled a bunch of records off a shelf at random. Thus the southern rock tradition of Lynard Skynard and Creedence Clearwater Revival sits side by side with minimalist garage rock and the bastard offspring of the blues. It’s all hugely derivative but, since much of this has become the musical currency of the day, it manages to sound resolutely modern at the same time.

Unlike many of the latest media darlings, however, there is a depth behind the hype that reveals itself with each listen. Youth & Young Manhood is full of explosive thrills (particularly Caleb Folowill’s primeval howl and the out of control kilter of ‘Spiral Staircase’ and the Dylanesque ‘Joe’s Head’), those Baptist influences are actually there and more than a few of the songs have hooks so catchy that a wider audience wouldn’t be out of the question.
And to be honest, it knocks seven shades of shite out of the White Stripes album. All hail the kings.