What's not to love, one wonders. Witnessing the Eagles of Death Metal live is to encounter an embodiment of all that made early rock & roll so wonderful. There's a simple beat, you can sing along to it, and the singer is bizarrely charismatic. Jesse (a.k.a. Jesse "The Devil" Hughes, but calling him "Hughes" would be like calling Ozzy "Osbourne") is a rock star as imagined by John Waters: greased-back hair, glasses, what he calls a "soft wonderful boomerang of love" mustache, gloves, tattoos, tight jeans, a Fender Telecaster and (sometimes) a rayon cape, delivering up the best Chuck Berry/Little Richard/Canned Heat-inspired rock & roll to leak out of America in some time. Eagles of Death Metal owes its unlikely existence (and profile) to its drummer: Josh Homme, an old high school friend moonlighting from his day job as leader of marijuana-rock powerhouses Queens of the Stone Age. But it's Jesse who writes—and sings—the songs about midnight creepers and speaking in tongues, about voodoo dances and kissing the devil's tongue and wanting... More >>>