Pitchfork

For a band so steeped in primal blues whomp, The Black Keys have come up with a whale of an FM riff-rocker. I hadn't rushed to check out Rubber Factory, smugly assuming I more or less knew what to expect from the Keys by now, but "10 A.M. Automatic" has made a fool of me. Not since Ali-Foreman have two guys so imposingly expanded their presence to stadium proportions. After a single drum hit from Patrick Carney, "10 A.M. Automatic" surges into a ragged guitar riff with all the simplicity and inevitability of great rock 'n' roll.

Dan Auerbach's vocals have never set me on fire, but any indie kid who manages to sound bluesy without embarrassing himself deserves all the collard greens in Alabama. The chorus adds a little bit of barbecued funk and some psychedelic haze. And then, 30 seconds short of the finish line, a brutally severe fuzz solo plunges down from the heavens, sounding twice as loud as everything else. And not just everything else in the song-- everything else everywhere. A killer fist-waving chorus might have exalted this track to the realm of the rock eternals, but as is, it still knocks the rest of the "broken blues" mob into a cocked hat.