Sounding nothing like the Eagles nor like death metal, the Eagles of Death Metal is instead one of the world’s premier Rolling Stones tribute bands. No, that doesn’t mean they play only cover songs– in fact, they don’t play any cover songs– nor does it mean that they even necessarily sound all that much like the Stones; sure, their music tends to alternate between piledriving rock bluster, bluesy guitar boogie, and swaggering hard rock, even dipping into some disco beats every now and again, but make no mistake– they’re not interested in recreating the loose, sinewy, rootsy rock of the Stones. Instead, Jesse Hughes and Josh Homme temper their Stones worship by shifting the emphasis to pure rock and roll firepower, loading their songs with layers of crude, nasty guitar work and pummeling drums; they explore different shades and textures within their basic framework, but ultimately it’s an album that’s driven by sheer, thundering might and aggression, not unlike the stuff Homme does in his other band, Queens of the Stone Age. No, what makes it clear that Hughes and Homme are disciples of Mick and Keith is the sheer sleaziness of the whole affair, as their latest album, Heart On, is nothing if not a celebration of the sheer seediness and hedonism of the Stones’ seminal works, a deliberate return to the days when the subject matter of great rock and roll was pretty much restricted to drugs, booze, and sex. This is a hard-rocking party album about nightlife and wild excesses, and if there’s a surprising emotional complexity to a few of these cuts, there’s certainly nothing in the way of conscience. Whether that’s your cup of tea, of course, depends on how far you’re willing to follow them into the heart of debauchery; there’s plenty of fun to be had here if gleefully shallow, no-frills rock is what you’re after, though it’s also hard to deny that by the end of the album– around the point where the masturbation anthem “Solo Flights” pops up– the band’s relentless hedonism grows a bit wearying.