The guitar and drums duo of Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney have always gone for a minimalist approach to blues-rock, as befits their being only two people in the band. Crashing drums and searing or pounding electric guitar lines have been their stock-in-trade, and their excellence in pursuing this path has never seemed like much of a limitation when listening to their previous albums. With the addition of Danger Mouse (one -half of Gnarls Barkley) as their producer and co-conspirator on Attack and Release, however, we find out that, yes, sometimes more is better. Not that Danger Mouse has overloaded Attack and Release with symphonies or guitar armies. In fact, crashing drums and spare, yet searing guitars still dominate and drive the proceedings as before. When keys, synths, banjo, percussion, and even clarinet and flute are added to the mix, Danger Mouse's genius is in largely keeping them as a sort of deep, sonic backdrop to the main event. And it is this added depth to the Black Keys formula that makes this album such a compelling listen. "All You Ever Wanted" starts the album with a soft voice, acoustic guitar, and lightly tapping percussion before storming in with drums, guitar, and heavy organ chords. But the acoustic guitars and percussion never really go away, filling up the space (along with various keyboards) beneath the Black Keys' stomp to glorious effect. The same technique is employed throughout the album, often giving each song its own unique feel, whether it be the "haunting" blues of "Strange Times" or the layered, echoing backdrop to "Psychotic Girl". Despite this, it is obvious that Danger Mouse loves the basic sound of the Black Keys (he contacted them to see if he could work with the duo), with some songs (e.g., the appropriately titled "Remember When") sounding almost identical to the Black Keys of old. All of this lends a variety to Attack and Release not present on their previous albums. And while these albums have all been outstanding in their own right, Danger Mouse proves his excellence as a producer by propelling this album beyond its forebears, but without losing any of the essence that makes the Black Keys what they are-a primal blues-rock juggernaut.

The above-mentioned Black Keys are not the only blues-rock duo of note in our musical universe, of course. Jack and Meg White have made the White Stripes almost a household word, what with Jack's winning way with melodies and guitar licks and the duo's eye-catching and memorable penchant for dressing only in red, white, and black. Jack apparently wanted to venture beyond the sound of his duo, however, and recruited the rhythm section of the Greenhornes, along with fellow Michigan songwriter Brendan Benson, to form the Raconteurs. Their first album, Broken Boy Soldiers, was a relaxed, yet hard-charging trip, combining strong, "Beatlesy" melodies (Benson's strong suit on his own excellent solo albums) with dirty, "Rolling Stonesy" grit and spittle. The whole affair came across as so casual and knocked off that one couldn't help but develop a fondness for it. But the follow-up record, Consolers Of The Lonely, is a whole different affair. Sounding anything but casual, with tinkling pianos, overwrought guitar solos, mariachi and Broadway-style horns, fiddles, and whatever else can be thrown into the mix filling up every nook and cranny, this album is overstuffed to the point of bloating. And that's not to mention the orchestral passages redolent of Queen and keyboard parts that sound straight out of the Emerson, Lake, and Palmer school of bombast. Where Broken. . . took a minimalist route, Consolers. . . goes all maximalist. Where Broken. . . barely broke the thirty-minute mark, Consolers plows along for over an hour. This is not to say there are no redeeming qualities to Consolers. . . , as the principals involved are, to be sure, outstanding talents. White unveils some of his best slide guitar work yet, and when Benson and White harmonize, as they do on many choruses, all is forgiven. And while the final song, "Carolina Drama," stretches on a little too long, it is an excellent foray into a sort of story-telling balladeering that feels exactly right for this combo. But overall, Consolers Of The Lonely is a perfect example of when too much is, in fact, too much.