Picking up on the '60s soul undercurrent of , smartly capitalize on their 2010 breakthrough by plunging headfirst into retro-soul on . Savvy operators that they are, don't opt for authenticity a la or : they bring back into the fold, the producer adding texture and glitter to the duo's clean, lean songwriting. Apart from "Little Black Submarines," an acoustic number that crashes into heaviosity as it reaches its coda, every one of the 11 songs here clocks in under four minutes, adding up to a lean 38-minute rock & roll rush, an album that's the polar opposite of the Black Keys' previous collaboration with , the hazy 2008 platter . That purposely drifted into detours, whereas never takes its eye off the main road: it barrels down the highway, a modern motor in its vintage body. adds glam flair that doesn't distract from the songs, all so sturdily built they easily accommodate the shellacked layers of cheap organs, fuzz guitars, talk boxes, backing girls, tambourines, foot stomps, and handclaps. Each element harks back to something from the past -- there are beats and glam rock guitars -- but everything is fractured through a modern prism: the rhythms have swing, but they're tight enough to illustrate the duo's allegiance to hip-hop; the gleaming surfaces are postmodern collages, hinting at collective aural memories. All this blurring of eras is in the service of having a hell of a good time. More than any other album, is an outright party, playing like a collection of 11 lost 45 singles, each one having a bigger beat or dirtier hook than the previous side. What's being said doesn't matter as much as how it's said: is all trash and flash and it's highly addictive. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine