Released March 12 1996 - Elektra Records

The Afghan Whigs are your band, your secret. When you've just got home, having spent four hours watching your ex parade the new squeeze, they're the first CD out of the rack. Greg Dulli's seen it and done it.

In fact, he was probably the one necking with your ex.

Unlike their Sub Pop peers, Nirvana and Soundgarden, The Whigs went to a major and never seemed to progress any further commercially than mid-billing benchwarmers on the festival circuit in the 1990's. Arguably, it could have been as a result of their misplaced inclusion in the 90's grunge scene. Although foremostly a guitar band, Greg Dulli's cited soul leanings married with a voice battered by late nights and cigarette smoke perhaps differed too much from the sound du jour. (note the resistance to use the word zeitgeist)

Black Love, their fifth studio release and second for Elektra after joining the Sub Pop migration, was obtuse in its conception. A film noir obsession and a mutual admiration with filmakers such as Ted Demme, had left Dulli pondering a foray into cinema himself and the intended soundtrack became the finished album.

There's little digression in the themes explored within the songs, it's delightfully monotone. Black by name, simply nocturnal by nature, the songs explore deceit, revenge, crimes of passion and heartbreak with poetic unpretension. The rest of the band it seems, didn't read the script, providing a carefree, vibrant and epic backing without the ubiquitous eclectic tag.

My Enemy, the second track, is speeding past the border with blunt object in the trunk, delivered via a belter of a guitar riff that Jimmy Page would sell a second soul for. Greg's been betrayed and he sure don't like it,

"Out of your mind bent on revenge. To think I once called you my friend?"

before dusting himself off and swaggering a challenge,

"You want the dog? I'll let him out. Come and get some baby."

Elsewhere, Dulli gets the soul on. Blame Etc. begins sneakily, borrrowing Bobby Womack's Across 110th Street string and piano introduction before storming hellbent into Curtis Mayfield's front room and sparking up. Similarly on Going To Town, we're treated to a hybrid of 70's funk and Exile On Main Street blues sensiblilty.

The album ends with the nine and a half minute Faded, a delicate respite. The house lights are due on. Get your coat, it's raining out. In fact, if it had have made it onto its intended film, Black Love would've been a Double Indemnity or a Kiss Me Deadly. Morally dubious and no doubt ending on a gun shot and the words "Goodbye, baby".

Not an obvious choice for a classic album, it didn't sell huge amounts and none of your friends will tell you about it. But then who will, they're our secret, right?

Just don't break Greg Dulli's heart, he'll get you back tenfold.

Posted In Classic Albums, Jun 24 2009. Words - Tony