THE WHITE STRIPES

When the White Stripes came to prominence in 2001 with the release of their third album, White Blood Cells, they were a Godsend to both the musical press and the media in general. With the Strokes already on their way to making rock'n'roll cool again, after the dour dirges and meat and veg rock of the late nineties, when the White Stripes came along they were immediately seized and feted on the same terms. Coming from Detroit they, of course, followed the most formidable and appropriate foot steps of Iggy Pop, his Stooges, and the MC5. Where the Strokes were hip, affluent kids from a hip and affluent city the White Stripes provided a handy contrast of gritty authenticity and raw power that the hacks were able to couche in similar terms in a similar scene. Furthermore, the White Stripes were able to drum up as much hype as the Strokes through their much-played-upon and ceaseless gimmicks. Firstly, the band, of course, only consists of two members - singer and guitarist Jack White and drummer Meg White - and who only dress in red and white. The couple then played upon these unique dynamics by bewitching the more gullible press with the 'are they siblings or are they lovers or are they *gasp* both!' charade. Apparently it is now settled that they are ex-husband and wife who were divorced before they bizarrely began life together in a band. In truth, if it was not for this gimmick there would be little point in them actually carrying on as a band as, artistically, it is entirely Jack's project. It is, indeed, a further tongue-in-cheek jape that Meg's drumming is, to be kind, rudimentary and the naive thump-thump she provides certainly adds to the uniqueness of their sound, if not the musical competence.

Conveniently, it is actually this stubborn reliance on gimmicks that has been highlighted, by me at least, as one of the main flaws in their approach and a crutch that ultimately holds them back from true greatness. In line with the minimalist line-up Jack refuses to engage in the tricks of modern production, particularly Pro-Tools and computer-based production, and therefore every Stripes album, as well as being based around just two instruments (occasionally a piano is added), is recorded on an analogue recorder with as few overdubs as humanly possible. It is a novel approach in this day and age, of course, but with each new album, despite the improvements in songwriting, one cannot help but feel they are holding themselves back out of sheer stubborness. It is all well and good indulging in the Sartrean anguish that our past decisions cannot bind our future actions but just because Jack was once a supporter of traditional recording techniques does not mean he has to play with clockwork machinery for the rest of his career. 2005's Get Behind Me Satan is certainly a step in the right direction but, even so, it still suffers from the self-restrictions of limited group members, traditional recording techniques, unsophisticated arrangements, and deliberate minimalism. With that in mind, although the White Stripes are a nifty little garage rock combo if they want to be anything more then Jack is going to have to face up to breaking some promises he made with his former self.

From: Nadia Amrane

Hi. I don't know when you've done this page but is certainly most interesting. You are very knowledgeable about rock and roll and reading your comments on the fabulous White Stripes was not only enjoyable but also was quite spot on. I went to their gigs last year and was certainly blown away. Being in my 30s and French North African and living in London, I have been a lifelong lover of rock and roll in all its states especially its raw states.
The first thing I thought when checking them out was how cute they were, how able to translate all range of emotions into perfectly crafted numbers and how intelligent and together they are. They are trying to recapture via their lyrics the innocence that existed in childhood but musically served this on a deadly bed of blues, garage, punk and country sounds. This marriage of blues and childhood is extremely potent, likely to enerve. Jack White is probably a genius, larger than life and I agree with you they do not fit the narrow spectrum of modern general consumption: they could be poisoned by it!

It is an infrequent occurrence that a modern rock band only comes to prominence with their third album but it is, however, unsurprising that it took two years for the White Stripes to strike commercial gold. Due to their deliberately unpolished and unprofessional approach to recording it was obviously deemed to be unnecessary for the band to spend years honing their sound and their songs before releasing their first album. Their eponymous debut was therefore knocked out to little and exclusively local fanfare and, although the following De Stijl saw their exposure increase and their momentum gather pace, it is still too noticeably raw for the more fickle of indie hipsters. One thing that has always been a constant, though, is Jack's superb guitar playing and it is altogether unsurprising that the band never sought fit to recruit a bassist as even with a single instrument he creates enough energy and power to match most other rock'n'roll combos. Although they have undoubtedly wrung nearly every ingenious trick available out of their limited instrumentation (hence the prominent piano on the fifth album, Get Behind Me Satan) on their debut it is kept relatively unsubtle and unsophisticated, with Meg's childish drum-beating providing sufficient accompaniment to Jack's wailing, hyperactive vocals and vicious guitar playing. Furthermore, unlike on future albums, none of the arrangements are particularly long or clever with the album consisting of 17 tracks, all of which fly by pretty quickly. The album opens strongly with the anthemic "Jimmy the Exploder" and the hysterical onslaught of "The Big Three Killed My Baby". Jack also pays his loving respects, as he does on the next album, to his blues heroes of yesteryore with covers of the blues standards "St. James Infirmary Blues" and Robert Johnson's "Stop Breaking Down". Although Jack has always liked to protest that he prefers to listen to the 'real' classics, rather than the hits from the rock'n'roll era, his squealing cover of "Stop Breaking Down" surely owes more to the Rolling Stones' version than Mr. Johnson's. This is further reinforced with the cover of Dylan's 1975 classic "One More Cup of Coffee", with Jack wonderfully recreating Dylan's wailing, even if the arrangement is - obviously - nowhere near as full. Jack tries to vary the mood and pace on occasions but the likes of "Suzy Lee" and "Sugar Never Tasted So Good" are still obviously inferior to the primal rock'n'roll rages of "Astro" and "Broken Bricks". Although such blasts are a pleasure to behold, the whole album is rather unavoidably primitive and although it is no surprise the Stripes went on to greater things it is also no surprise that the general public took a little while to cotton on.

BLUES EXPLOSION! Back in Jon Spencer Towers the alarm bells started ringing when a bass-less indie outfit emerged on the scene playing their own brand of post-modern blues. Things went from bad to worse for Spencer and co. with the realisation that not only were these young upstarts becoming more popular than JSBX they were also, whisper it quietly, a bit better. Now I am a fan of Spencer's mock-blues pastiche but he has always sullied his career by refusing to take anything with any degree of seriousness. Jack White, on the other hand, particularly on this release, went back to the blues with his cap duly doffed. Even though this is an obviously post-modern take on the genre, it is pulled off with so much respect and admiration that it is actually worthy of drawing comparisons with many of the original artists. Jack is, of course, an excellent guitarist and he really comes into his own on their second release with his reliance on electric slide guitar offering a sound that emulates much of the heavy blues-orientated hard rock of the sixties and seventies. Although many bands have tried to emulate Led Zeppelin over the years Jack's cover of Son House's classic "Death Letter" is as close as contemporary rock gets to replicating the awesome power of Page and Plant, with his intense riffing and sliding producing a whirlwind of primitive blues rock. Similarly, the abrasive "Hello Operator" and the growling "Little Bird" represent electric blues in such a style unique to alternative rock and, as a result, succeed in marking out the White Stripes as distinct from most of their peers. This album is arguably the most distinctive out of the band's cannon so far due to its non-ironic debt to such a traditional genre. Jack does indulge in - or indeed create - some of his trademarks on this release, with the minimalist pop of "You're Pretty Good Looking" ('...for a girl') and "Apple Blossom" and the succinct thrashing rages "Let's Build a Home" and "Jumble, Jumble". Indeed, this set is also one of the Stripes' most diverse with the ominous "Truth Doesn't Make a Noise" and the downbeat "I'm Bound to Pack it Up" and "Sister, Do You Know My Name?" successfully upping the level of diversity and adding variety in pace and mood. As with all of their albums, though, the deliberately restrictive palette of the band means that any songs that are not fully-formed only succeed in dragging down the rest, with the sophorific dirge "A Boy's Best Friend" being the worst such candidate, and the album does rather peter out at the end with a couple of half-baked ideas masquerading as complete songs. That said, it is still an album that deserves greater exposure than the Stripes were getting at the time of its release and it is a relief that their subsequent success means this material can now be unearthed. It is still unmistakeably raw but, equally, it is untouched by Jack's increased cynicism that grew as their exposure did and, as such, showcases alternative rock of a refreshingly unique and enjoyable nature.

Like many American indie bands it was the prominence granted to the White Stripes in England that saw their stock substantially rise and reflect back across the Atlantic. However, it was not until their third album that the English press got their hooks in as the previous two had not even been released outside of the USA. It is hardly unsurprising that it was this third album that finally saw the spotlight fall upon the duo as it is noticeably more commercial than the previous two (and the first in particular) and, rather handily, contains arguably their signature tune - the amphetamine-fuelled head rush of "Fell in Love with a Girl", a sonic explosion of garage rock basics and pop perfection. It was not just the NME that got their media rocks off, though, as the hype proved persuasive enough to draw in the likes of Kate Moss (who currently has her fangs sunk into the errant rascal Pete Doherty) and therefore the tabloids were able to flash some cool credentials by covering their gigs. The band then got themselves highlighted on Radio 4's earnest Today programme as evidence of some kind of new fad (although it evidently passed me by) and therefore the broadsheets were in turn given an excuse to hijack the bandwagon. (Sad to say, I only heard about them through the news article in the Guardian.) In any event, the band were now big news in Britain and White Blood Cells became the sort of 'must-have' release to rank alongside Is This It and the Hives' Your New Favourite Band. It is worthy of comment, though, that, even with a more commercialised sound, the White Stripes are still far more rough and ready than the knowing pop of their stylised peers, despite their own cloak of gimmicks and novelty. The raw blues of "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground" and "I'm Finding it Harder to Be a Gentleman" (the latter showing up Jack's obsession with old-fashioned virtues and fashions) are hardly compatible with the pop charts. Indeed, even the single release "Hotel Yorba" is consciously unpolished, with its nods to both skiffle and rockabilly delighting the rock critics, if not the teenyboppers. "I Can't Wait" is as about as straight up melodic rock as it gets for the Stripes, with its memorable chorus hook, but it also forms a rare highlight on a second side that again gets bogged down with decent but largely unmemorable compositions. The first half is pretty much immaculate, though, with the abrasive, snarling "Expecting" proving to be suitably rowdy and the Citizen Kane homage, "The Union Forever", being an interesting multi-part mini-epic with a memorably intense climax. It is somewhat appropriate, really, that this should have been the first album of the Stripes to imprint on public consciousness as it also somewhat represents the end of their stylistic progression. The following, even more successful, album is just a more polished continuation of these ideals as most of what makes the White Stripes unique is to be found here. Unfortunately, that includes compromising a set of excellent material with songs that are just too limited by the band's deliberately restrictive dynamics.

With the media demanding that the White Stripes become everyone's new favourite band, Elephant therefore became the first album released by the band with the hype and expectation squared firmly on their shoulders (well, Jack's anyway). The album shot straight to number one in the UK and the NME, reaching new levels of self-absurdity, even named it one of the hundred best albums ever a good month before it even came out. Luckily for the Stripes the album was strong enough to avoid any concentrated backlash and, indeed, has come to be regarded by most as their strongest release. Perhaps wisely, Jack refrained from altering much of what made White Blood Cells their first commercial success and therefore this release merely consolidates such a novel approach within a set of marginally better material performed with an obvious increase in confidence. The opening "Seven Nation Army" became the 'big hit', both in Britain and, more significantly, the US, with its hypnotic, descending march and explosive chorus. It also highlights the fatal flaw with Jack's approach as to achieve such a bass heavy sound he had to use an effects pedal to lower his guitar by an octave, in effect creating a 'fake' bass so as to avoid having to compromise one of his much cherished gimmicks. Although I have no problem with the song it just smacks of obstinancy to go to such lengths when all that was required was to use a normal bass guitar, with or without apology. "Seven Nation Army" is not my favourite track, though, as the blistering garage rock assaults of "Hypnotise", "Girl, You Have No Faith in Medicine" and the breathlessly brutal "Black Math" all represent the peak of the Stripes' artistry, revelling in their unpretentious, no-nonsense approach. Finally having achieved notable success obviously allowed Jack to puff his chest out a bit more and therefore the usual trademarks of his approach, such as the twee pop of "I Want to Be the Boy to Warm Your Mother's Heart" and the anarchic wailing blues rock of "There's No Home for You Here" or "The Hardest Button to Button", represent the best such exercises Jack has put his name to. He is even bold enough to tackle Burt Bacharach's aching "I Just Don't Know What to Do With Myself", mutating it with wailing, almost operatic, raw hysterics, and the album is based around the seven minute electric blues of "Ball and Biscuit", which harks back to the early Zeppelin tributes on De Stijl and is equally as successful in that regard. Unfortunately, an extra arrogance means Jack also thinks he is a great deal funnier than he actually is, with the unfunny joke songs "Little Acorns" and "Well it's True that We Love One Another" failing to be rescued by decent melodies or arrangements, and his idea to get Meg to sing the childish "In the Cold, Cold Night" produces nothing except a desperately poor song and a considerable blip in the set-list. It would be more surprising, though, if Jack hadn't somehow tainted his success with some stupid gimmicks or unnecessary novelties. As such, this album represents the peak of the White Stripes' artistry, warts and all, and although it displays an excellent band at the top of their game it also reveals the reason why they will always struggle to reach true greatness.

The White Stripes are always quick to laud their defiant desire to be set apart from the rest of contemporary rock with their reliance on traditional values and rejection of self-indulgent pomposity. As well as recording their albums using such old-fashioned equipment with minimal overdubs they also take great pains to let us know that they do so with the minimum of fuss and time-wasting. Whereas the likes of Coldplay spend months of pain-staking labour to ensure every slow, interminable dirge of a song sounds exactly like the other the White Stripes nip into the studio, record a few songs, and are home in time for the six o'clock news. As a result, when 2004 rolled into 2005 and Jack and Meg still had not entered the studio nobody was getting particularly nervy. Their faith was rewarded when, within a couple of months of starting recording in the spring of 2005, the lead single made its appearance, the typically abrupt "Blue Orchid", and an album duly followed a few weeks later. I am admittedly not the first person to make this point but if this album shows anything it is that the White Stripes actually might be better served taking more time and care over their albums. Personally I would be perfectly happy for them to take a while longer if it meant the results were that much more impressive. In ten years time who is going to laud this album simply on the basis that, back in the spring of 2005, they were very quick to record and release it? Some of the best albums emerge from the most tortuous and drawn-out of processes and although I would not suggest the White Stripes are the sort of band that need to exercise scientific precision over their work a little more patience may well prove to be beneficial. As with all of their albums there is a lot of good stuff on here and it is, yet again, compromised by some of the more slapdash and ill thought-out material. For once, though, the album does not tail away at the end, meaning this is certainly one of their patchiest releases. Although the excellent "Blue Orchid" relies on a wonderfully chopped-up guitar riff, this album is most noticeable for Jack's decision to rely on other instruments instead, thereby at least showing an inclination to experiment stylistically. In fact, piano is the primary instrument, which is a marked success on the up-beat white-funk of "My Doorbell" and the jive-talking "The Denial Twist" although it also means Jack yawns his way through the sophorific ballad "White Moon" and, to a lesser degree, "Forever for Her (Is Over for Me)" and "I'm Lonely (But I Ain't that Lonely Yet)" overstay their welcome. Of course, I don't think Jack's ballads have ever been much good and the use of a different instrument is pretty much an aside. That said, he does provide a decent one in the form of the fragile "As Ugly As I Seem", which is both subtly melodic and endearing. The diversity is one of the most impressive aspects of this release, though, with the off-kilter xylophone and guitar duel on the eerie "The Nurse" producing an intriguing mess, and even though the bluegrass "Little Ghost" is quaint rather than great, "Take, Take, Take" is an excellent country-flavoured rocker, which opens with a flourish of authentic Stones shuffle. The Meg-sung "Passive Manipulation" is at least short and it works well as a divider between "Take, Take, Take" and the intense "Instinct Blues". Although the latter has its moments, it is a prime example of the laziness of the band masquerading as authenticity as it is obviously underwritten as Jack relies on his status as post-modern blues hero to get him through. Similarly, "Red Rain" is a wailing blast of lazy songwriting and would struggle to stand out even on the rawness on their debut. Such a withering criticism neatly brings us full circle from my opening words of caution as it sums up the way this album, like most of the others, has been compromised by the White Stripes' insistence on doing things their own stubborn way. Jack IS a diverse artist to a significant degree and we are hardly dealing with a band like Oasis but it would be nice to hear that the next album he releases had him pulling his hair out for months on end.