February 21, 2005 at 05:00 AM EST
We gave it a B

On album No. 2, these three brothers and their cousin continue to put a trashed-up, mysterious-South spin on garage rock. Caleb Followill’s slurred drawl and lewd-boy lyrics are still undeniably riveting; he’s like a Faulkner character fronting a band, especially when he lurches into a yodel on ”Day Old Blues.” Alas, the singer makes a more lasting impression than the songs; beyond the morning-after ballad ”Milk,” the tunes amount to sharply played but disjointed riffs.

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