There's a reason kids of all ages play dumb '70s-style hard-rock guitar riffs: It feels good and makes them feel strong, which is why the riffs are composed of "power chords." This science applies to Glenn Hughes (72) and Joe Bonamassa (47) of Black Country Communion as well as to your 13-year-old nephew, and listening to dumb riffs feels almost as good as banging 'em out. So Foreigner and the Stooges keep showing up in TV commercials half a century after the fact, and Black Country Communion, thank God, keep making new hard rock that sounds old.
The riffs ain't all there is to it, of course, and BCC have now proved for the fifth time how much skill it takes to make classic hard rock ring true. When it comes to singing, Hughes (Deep Purple, Trapeze) doesn't have to imitate anyone but his soulful, soaring self, and unlike the Plants and Coverdales of this world, the echo of his youth mocks him not -- just hear him wail "You're Not Alone." Bonamassa's also a capable lungsman, better all the time (half of "Skyway"). But though his main role is ax god, he serves best by reining in his mad chops in favor of tonal palette (fragile lead on the dramatic "Red Sun") and pure taste.
Jason Bonham slammin' the skins makes the group groove feel natural, especially when he treads his drummer dad's pathways, as on the stompboggy "Love and Faith," a conglomeration of several Zep appendages -- note also that producer Kevin Shirley, the reliable Fifth Communicant, has located an especially rubbery and foundational electric-bass sound for Hughes. Keyboardist Derek Sherinian receives more elbow room than usual, including an actual solo on the stepped-up "Too Far Gone"; he even wrests the "Trampled Under Foot" clavinet from John Paul Jones' reluctant grasp to accent the album's best song, the femme-b.g.-singer-boosted "Stay Free."
Don't want to quit without complimenting "Letting Go," a dark, hard-charging burst with weird vocal harmonies reminiscent of King's X. And "V" closes rambunctiously with "The Open Road," a Frankensteinian psychedelic funk workout -- glad they didn't drop it for nonconformity. Strangely, the most disposable track comes first.
Several years in the making cuz of the plague, "V" explodes with pent-up passion and energy. One is tempted to call it sick. Again.