Last Updated on May 20, 2025 by Christian Adams
The concept of a music supergroup isn’t anything new.
Cream. Traveling Wilburys. The Highwaymen.
Hell, Led Zeppelin—one of the most influential to ever do it—is a supergroup. With Robert Plant and John Bonham’s ‘67-’68 run in Band of Joy, Jimmy Page’s historic membership with The Yardbirds, and a heavy sprinkle of (at the time) session bassist John Paul Jones…rock and roll history was forever changed.
Point of fact: Not all supergroups are built the same, with some ending up wildly disappointing. (I’m looking directly at you, Chickenfoot.)
But I digress; no matter what direction they take, we need supergroups. Often, they bring out a more artistic and daring sound from our favorite musicians. And there’s one in particular that I believe to be severely underrated.
Them Crooked Vultures.
For those of you new to the party, TCV has three core members:
- Dave Grohl – grunge/post-grunge icon of Nirvana and Foo Fighters fame
- Josh Homme – founder of Queens of the Stone Age
- John Paul Jones – that legendary bassist of Led Zeppelin
If you think this sounds pretty badass and has the potential to be truly jam-worthy, you’d be correct. While they’ve only released a single album…it’s funky, vaguely familiar, and stickier than shit on a wool blanket.
Background & Formation
Two words.
Medieval Times.
I mean, there’s more to the story. But imagine the backdrop to one of the greatest modern supergroups being jousting knights, busty wenches, and getting your grubby meathooks filthy with rotisserie chicken fat.
Dave Grohl elected to hold his 40th birthday celebration at Medieval Times Dinner & Tournament. And it wasn’t just celebrating he had in mind.
Grohl had a vision for creation and collaboration. So, he arranged a “chance meeting” between Homme and JPJ by seating them next to each other during the dinner show. And much to his surprise, the two hit it off almost immediately.
The next day, the trio was jamming in the studio. It wasn’t long until Josh spoke up and laid out the foundational 7/8 riff of their first single, “New Fang”.
The Sound: TCV’s One-and-Done Masterpiece
Them Crooked Vultures have only put out a single self-titled album. However, that’s not to say it doesn’t slap.
The album debuted on November 13, 2009, with 13 tracks in the original release. It was received generally well, scoring a 75 with Metacritic, drawing favorable reviews from most.
Them Crooked Vultures Tracklist
| No One Loves Me and Neither Do I Mind Eraser, No Chaser New Fang Dead End Friends Elephants Scumbag Blues Bandoliers Reptiles Interlude with Ludes Warsaw or The First Breath You Take After You Give Up Caligulove Gunman Spinning in Daffodils |
If classic rock got drunk, took a detour through the desert, and lit a Molotov cocktail with a guitar pick, you’d end up with Them Crooked Vultures. This self-titled debut is what happens when rock royalty gets bored of perfection and decides to get weird—in the best way possible.
This is one supergroup that somehow doesn’t collapse under the weight of its mythos. Instead, they rip through 13 tracks of unfiltered, swampy, sexy, snarling rock that feels timeless and reckless.
From the jump, “No One Loves Me & Neither Do I” oozes confidence, all smoky swagger and slow-burning seduction, before erupting into a riff hurricane. It sets the tone: this isn’t polite rock—it’s barroom brawl rock, full of dirt under its fingernails.
There are moments of outright weirdness—“Interlude with Ludes” sounds like Bowie went clubbing in Berlin with a hangover—but that’s part of the fun. This album doesn’t care what you think. It’s jam-heavy, sure. But it’s also tight, vicious, and constantly teetering between genius and madness.
The real magic, though, is chemistry. You can feel it. This isn’t a Frankenstein of mismatched parts—it’s alive. And it stomps through genres with no leash.
In a world where rock often feels neutered or nostalgic, Them Crooked Vultures is a glorious reminder of how dangerous and alive it can still be. This album doesn’t just deserve to be played loud—it demands it. Preferably with whiskey, open windows, and zero plans for the morning after.
Fun Fact: The song “Caligulove”—a play on words of demented Roman emperor Caligula—is also an homage to the band’s original naming idea. However, they found several other groups with the same name and opted for Them Crooked Vultures instead.
My Personal Faves
“Scumbag Blues”: From the second the track starts, I can’t help but start grooving. The mainstay riff of the song hits and drags me in. It’s catchy as hell and honestly… the first thing that pops into my head when I think Them Crooked Vultures. Then the hauntingly beautiful falsetto of Josh Homme enters the equation, all supported by the backbone of JPJ’s bass groove.
The sound reminds me a lot of Muse—another group I’m particularly fond of. While it might not be the best introduction to Them Crooked Vultures for new listeners, those who appreciate a funky blues sound will fall in love with this selection.
“Elephants”: Man, this song grooves. Like really fuckin’ grooves. You just want to bop along from beginning to end. One of the real selling points of this song is the sound of the guitar. It truly sounds like elephants trumpeting along. It’s animalistic and raw. The only other song that really puts me in the wilderness like this is Dethklok’s “Thunderhorse“, which emulates a herd of wild stallions.
“New Fang”: That song that started it all. While it isn’t the most popular single from the album, New Fang is a true masterclass. It’s a true fusion of Nirvana, Queens of the Stone Age, and Led Zeppelin, with the influence of each easily discernible throughout. However, the output produced is something new and exciting.
Them Crooked Vultures Members: An Expanded Look
Before Them Crooked Vultures ever hit the studio, each member had already left tire tracks across the rock ‘n’ roll landscape. These weren’t some bored musicians trying a side hustle—these were warhorses who helped build the battlefield.
Here’s where they sharpened their claws—and what to spin if you want to hear the bloodlines that birthed the beast.
Dave Grohl
Let’s not kid ourselves: Dave Grohl is the human equivalent of a rock ‘n’ roll espresso shot. The man doesn’t just play drums—he obliterates them. And when he’s not behind the kit, he’s busy leading some of the most consistent alt-rock juggernauts of the last 30 years.
Nirvana – Nevermind (1991)
This is sacred ground. Grohl joined Nirvana right before they detonated into the mainstream, and while Kurt was the face, Grohl’s punishing, primal drumming gave the angst its backbone.
Start with: “Breed”
It’s loud, fast, and Grohl’s kit sounds like it’s trying to escape the studio.
Foo Fighters – The Colour and the Shape (1997)
This is Dave stepping into the frontman spotlight, and he does it with guts, grit, and the kind of hooks that live rent-free in your skull.
Start with: “Everlong”
Emotional, explosive, and still an arena-shaker decades later.
Probot – Probot (2004)
His criminally underrated metal love letter. Grohl channels his inner Slayer with a lineup of metal vocal legends.
Start with: “Shake Your Blood” (feat. Lemmy)
It’s dirty, fast, and straight from Hell’s jukebox.
Josh Homme
Josh Homme is the weirdest kind of cool: sunburnt, slow-drawling, and dead serious about his craft. He doesn’t play riffs—he conjures them, like some stoner-rock necromancer buried in a sandstorm.
Kyuss – Blues for the Red Sun (1992)
This is where desert rock was born. Imagine Black Sabbath got lost in the Mojave with a bag of mushrooms. Homme laid the groundwork here.
Start with: “Green Machine”
Riffs big enough to flatten mountains.
Queens of the Stone Age – Songs for the Deaf (2002)
This is Homme at his most unhinged—in the best way. Grohl joins on drums, and the result is a fever dream on four wheels through a radio-scrambled wasteland.
Start with: “No One Knows”
That riff. That swing. That weirdness. This is Homme’s signature in audio form.
Eagles of Death Metal – Death by Sexy (2006)
Pure tongue-in-cheek sleaze rock. Homme doesn’t front this one, but he plays and produces, and you can feel his fingerprints all over it.
Start with: “I Want You So Hard (Boy’s Bad News)”
It’s dumb, it’s dirty, it’s delightful.
John Paul Jones
The quietest of the three, but easily the most dangerous. John Paul Jones is the musical glue in any project. The man plays everything, arranges everything, and makes it all sound effortlessly cool. He’s the bassist and the brains.
Led Zeppelin – Physical Graffiti (1975)
You already know Zep, but Physical Graffiti is where Jones really stretches out—keys, bass, mandolin, orchestration. Dude is a Swiss Army knife with a groove.
Start with: “Trampled Under Foot”
His clavinet work on this track is what funky robots would dance to.
Jonesy’s session work (pre-Zep)
JPJ was a studio wizard before Zeppelin even formed, playing with everyone from Donovan to Dusty Springfield.
Start with: “Sunshine Superman” by Donovan
Yep, that’s Jones crafting that trippy vibe on bass and arrangement.
Solo – The Thunderthief (2001)
A weird, wild solo album that proves JPJ isn’t just the past—he’s always been ahead of the curve.
Start with: “Leafy Meadows”
It’s proggy, quirky, and absolutely not what you expect.
What’s Coming Next?
So, with only one album… it begs the question, will Them Crooked Vultures release another?
Well, at the time of writing this article, it seems unlikely. Not that I wouldn’t love to hear what comes next, but as time passes on the chances dwindle even more.
The artists themselves have all expressed a desire to collab again, and real audience interest exists for this to happen. However, we can only keep our fingers crossed.
But what if this is as good as it gets?
Some things are only meant for a single run at greatness. Could a second album tarnish the band’s catalog?
Them Crooked Vultures may never return—but damn if they didn’t leave scorch marks. So pour a drink, press play, and let the vultures circle one more time.
If You Like Them Crooked Vultures…
Them Crooked Vultures isn’t for everyone, but if you enjoy their knotty sound… check out these two groups.
Gov’t Mule
Gov’t Mule isn’t just a band—they’re a damn freight train wrapped in fuzzed-out blues, Southern rock grease, and the kind of jam-band looseness that could stretch a single note into a sermon.
Led by Warren Haynes, the six-string shaman who cut his teeth with The Allman Brothers and plays like his guitar owes him money, Mule blends virtuosity with raw, lived-in grit. Every solo feels like a bar fight between fire and feeling, and Haynes’ voice? Whiskey-soaked, weathered, and honest as a busted pickup.
Wallace Vanborn
Wallace Vanborn is what happens when stoner rock grows fangs and chugs espresso instead of beer. Hailing from Belgium but sounding like they clawed their way out of the California desert, this trio doesn’t just make noise—they weaponize it.
Their sound is a muscular, riff-driven beast—equal parts Queens of the Stone Age swagger, Royal Blood punch, and a twisted, fuzz-drenched charm all their own. The guitars don’t just crunch—they detonate. Drums hit like they’re trying to break out of your speakers. And the vocals? Smooth one second, snarling the next. It’s tension and release, doom and dance, all tangled in distortion.
They’re heavy, but not sludge. Catchy, but never cheap. Smart, but never smug. Wallace Vanborn is the sound of controlled demolition—a rock band with a plan, and that plan involves making your neck sore and your face melt.
