“Arcing ropes of jism.” How could I not open my song of praise to Queens of the Stone Age’s Josh Homme and not feature that description? I had to work it in somehow.

Sure, flying jism is a visual you’d associate with a porn site — but not a Joe Cocker song. And yet that’s the way Homme — the sexy and smart frontdude for the Queens — describes his reaction to a certain snare drum sound that he’s been “chasing” (to mimic and record) ever since he heard it on the Cocker tune.

The jism quote was featured in a recent Pitchfork interview that celebrates the release of the Queen’s exhilarating new album Era Vulgaris.

The title is Latin for “common era.” But don’t take that as an arty snub against our culture’s Last Days cluster fuck. Homme enjoys the times we’re all wallowing in, and considers the current zeitgeist a character building challenge — or as he puts it:

“I find that the more modernized the world gets, the more confusing it gets. And in some aspects, it’s like, how the fuck, in an age of five second blips, how do you fall in love with somebody? Something that takes work and patience, is there room for that shit? Or how do you become a master craftsman? If you’re a little kid that grows up in the modern age, you really have to fight to develop the patience and drive to really do something that takes work and endurance.”

Homme is a 34-year-old Palm Springs native, born under the sign of the twins. He’s compact and tall. And looks like a mashup between Elvis Presley and one of those Children of the Corn characters. MTV’s website describes his multifarious masculinity perfectly:

Homme seems like a throwback to several different eras, often all at once. Personality-wise, he’s a devil-dusted Delta bluesman from the 1930s, a spit-covered Bowery punk from the ’70s, a hard-partying Sunset Strip rock star from the 1980s and a bizarrely everyman alt-rocker pulled directly from the ’90s. Musically, he dabbles in bottom-heavy proto-metal, bong-ridden prog rock, trippy psychedelia, earthy blues and ultra-harmonized pop. Plus, he’ll talk to you about Björk for hours on end.

I’ll admit that Homme’s redheaded hotness has a lot to with opening my pop-steeped pea brain to his brand of grinding guitar rock. Until this week’s release of Era Vulgaris I’d spent most of June playing Schubert’s Romantic-era Impromptus and The Sea and Cake’s shimmery Everybody.

But several listens and I was completely sucked into Era Vulgaris — a disc All Music Guide has already named “the best rock & roll record yet released in 2007.”

Vulgaris plays like great sex. Thrash elements collide with sly pop hooks, while the band’s production palette paints the record with a dirty, fuzzy patina.

The guitars are itchy-fantastic and get under your skin like a bad case of chiggers. The drums are processed so tight most of their resonance seems to have disappeared into a black hole. Stylistic grooves slide between Led Zeppelin, Urge Overkill and the quirked-out mechanical edge of Devo. No shit!

If it’s true what a lot of the press is circulating — that Era Vulgaris represents Holmes’ hegemony of the Queens — well, lucky boys. The man has conviction and takes his job seriously. He understands the artistic toggle between forcing opposites — pop craftsmanship and punk-banging intensity — giving fans a vivid sonic center to contemplate.

But for me it’s always back to the flesh. Homme’s showmanship is thrilling. I can’t think of another male singer today who can generate the sort of smoldering sexual tension and swagger that Homme unleashes on stage. He’s not even a throwback because most bygone male rockers rely on excess to project their persona. With Homme there’s not a lot of leaping and strutting, just a steady, rising, hip-grinding, on-the-mark intensity — the sort of build-up that alludes to — that promises — yep, you guessed it: Arcing ropes of jism.

Enjoy Sick, Sick, Sick the Queens’ first single from Era Vulgaris (baby!):