Where the Grass Grows Black

West Coast space rock collective the Society of Rockets mined the depths of Psychocandy-era Jesus and Mary Chain on their murky 2004 debut, Sunset Homes, and while they retain much of that offering's psychedelic grandeur on their sophomore effort, Where the Grass Grows Back, the Bay Area stargazers have traded in their late-night pontification for ass-shaking anthems of 20-something splendor. From the inaugural Southern-fried boogie of "Tangerines & Cigarettes" to the whiskey-soaked lamentation "Suicide Summer," the Society have found a nice balance between the sleepy, introspective atmospherics of Galaxie 500 and the raunchy swagger of Kings of Leon. It's a testament to their unbridled passion that amid the cacophony of dirty guitars, brass, strings, organ, and harmonica what rings truest on Where the Grass Grows Back are the vocals. Joshua Babcock can barely contain himself, and while that kind of attack often runs the risk of coming off as desperate, he manages to keep his chin up while his feet remain squarely in the flames.