We Were The States - Believe The Thieves
Believe.
The well of rock dried up years ago; we just didn’t know any better. We choked on The Hives because we were sure they would lead us to the oasis. We figured The Strokes would get us through post punk angst. They all proved to overpromise. Surprisingly, it would be a band of sleeping giants from the South that has not only the design but means to lead us to the latest rock & roll promise land. We Were the States’ inaugural Believe The Thieves has done just that by borrowing from every decade’s offerings since Black Oak Arkansas and eventually wiping their feet on The Zutons’ doormat. Be prepared for batshit guitars and a sizzling rock feast.
Believe The Thieves is filled with guitar reveries. So it’s no wonder that dirty southern sleaze rock songs like ‘Red Lion’ play to the likes of Kings of Leon or the Kinks pre-country kicks of ‘Till Morning Comes’. Wait until your ears set on the relentless drums of ‘Try’ and you’ll start to wonder how rock forgot to be this spot on. If it’s derivative, the Tennessee boys wear it with pride. But, we would argue otherwise. This is rock as we see it; skewered glam, boiled pop, served tarnished and coarse. Lyrically, Justin Webb roars, belts, and laments like the best of battle scarred artists and remembers to bow out when Jay Stoyanov’s guitars come screaming.
They only fault on filler moments like ‘See If I Care’ and its Brandon Flowers blasé keyboards. Thankfully, flashes like these are quickly remedied by what usually pursue - like ‘Girl. You’re a Theif’ and its vanity chest of feedback. And those rough patches like ‘Hard’ are easily forgivable when you sound this good. Yes, kids, We Were the States will make you believe in rock again and all its dysfunctional glory.
Sean Kendall
