The fifth Whigs album presents the pinnacle of the virulent soul-rock formula that Dulli and company innovated on Congregation and fine-tuned on Gentlemen. Black Love is as focused as its predecessor, but presents a more colorful, varied sonic palate without feeling as melodramatic as the records that follow it. Still, its placement over Gentlemen will seem a bit contentious, even though Black Love is the fan-favorite. Gentlemen is the more classic record, partly because it was released first and partly because Black Love was a relative commercial disappointment (probably because Dulli successfully lobbied for “Honky’s Ladder,” maybe the least listener-friendly track on the record, to be released as its lead single). Still, Black Love is the darker, more complex record. While Gentlemen flows in one direction – downstream — Black Love is a real roller coaster, with the most aggressive material in the band’s repertoire as well as the most beautiful. Its willingness to curve in new directions is thrilling in the way albums like Wish You Were Here and Physical Graffiti are, which is why it is the best Afghan Whigs album.

After Gentlemen’s success, Dulli leveraged his cultural currency toward Hollywood, scoring the soundtrack to Ted Demme’s film Beautiful Girls and nabbing a cameo for the Afghan Whigs, performing a cover of “Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love, Babe” on screen. Dulli planned to write, direct, and score his own noir movie, a project that never materialized, but the material intended for the soundtrack went on to become Black Love. Opener “Crime Scene Part One,” which documents an ex-lover’s suicide, gestures openly toward crime cinema; think of it as his musical rendition of the opening scene in Lethal Weapon, complete with Clapton-esque guitar. Elsewhere, “Going To Town” takes his romantic flings and injects them with unhealthy amounts of melodrama. Why just bang your girl when you can do so after a bit of mass arson? The Afghan Whigs fire on all cylinders on that song, marrying the obtuse lyrics to an infectious drum machine roll and an infectious mixture of funk and aggressive power chords.

Black Love offers several songs in that vein, each essential parts of the Whigs discography, including “My Enemy,” maybe the most aggro piece of music Dulli has penned since his earlier punk days. “You want the dog? / I’ll let him out / come and get some baby,” Dulli growls, slashing at the neck of his guitar while then-new drummer Paul Buchignani rides the pocket harder than his predecessors. Even better is “Blame, Etc.,” where the Afghan Whigs have completely digested their funk and soul influences, complete with syncopated organ hits on the black keys. Fitting, since the song was intended as a tribute to the late Temptations singer David Ruffin, whose infidelities become an ideal vehicle for the nastiness Dulli had been writing around since 1991. In many ways, the song is the centerpiece of Black Love — the words of its chorus show up in “Crime Scene Part One,” and, crudely, the co-opting of African American music idioms is as central a theme in the record as film noir and sexual deprivation are — hence the title. But “Blame, Etc.” also carries a certain vulnerability, which is so often lacking in sexualized rock music; to wit: “You were blind / but you are not alone in this / as I was once / like you.” Throughout the two preceding records, the Afghan Whigs were trying to mine from soul and gospel music a kind of masculinity that carried bravado and a kind of tragedy as well, and on Black Love, they nail it.

For further proof, look no further than the record’s incredible third act: “Bulletproof,” “Summer’s Kiss” and “Faded” each stand among the best songs Dulli’s ever written and recorded. The sensitive balladeering that the Whigs first experimented on in Big Top Halloween hits its greatest stride in these three songs. Yes, the ballads that wrap up Gentlemen are excellent as well, but there’s a sweetness and longing in “Bulletproof,” when Dulli sings “Every time I dream about you, baby / With your hands all over me,” that alludes to more than animal lust — an idealized blend of ’80s cock-rock swagger and ’90s alternative emotionality. “Summer’s Kiss” is genuinely sweet without being saccharine — the song has enough pull with Afghan Whigs fans that Dulli’s official fan page is named after it. And “Faded,” with its soaring chorus, even-handed delivery, and masterful textures, is as essential a track as “Gentlemen.” On “Faded,” Dulli and the classic Whigs lineup put all of their strengths on display: nuanced and layered instrumentation coupled with great emotional songwriting and a powerful series of hooks. On their reunion tour, the Afghan Whigs closed their set with “Faded,” thus ending their career-retrospective song set the same way they ended their best album. And now that the Whigs appear back in action for the foreseeable future, it’s an ideal time to revisit — or first experience — one of the most interesting and satisfying discographies in contemporary rock music.