by William J. Hayes

For years, music scribes kvetched and moaned about Meg White’s juvenile drumming, wondering how great White Stripes leader Jack White would sound with a Stewart Copeland-esque percussionist and an ever-elusive bass player. In 2006, they got their wish when White formed The Raconteurs with Detroit singer-songwriter Brendan Benson, and the Greenhornes’ rhythm section of Jack Lawrence and Patrick Keeler. Many gleefully predicted a severe drop in the production of red, white and black shirts and pants, collateral damage resulting from the duo’s surely impending disbandment. While the album they produced, Broken Boy Soldiers, was solid – including breakout hit “Steady, As She Goes” – technical elitists eager to see Meg White on the Detroit unemployment line with the rest of those folks who used to make cars were probably disappointed to realize that, with at least three songs that could be described as “Eh…,” the result was nothing special. Well, more bad news for the haters. Icky Thump, the sixth album in the White Stripes’ ten-year existence, is special with a capital “S”, and there isn’t an “Eh…” in sight.

(The rest of the review after the jump...)

The formerly married couple have dispensed (for the most part) with the brother-sister mythology and even some of their self-imposed limitations. For instance, this album was recorded in an actual studio with computers and stuff, as opposed to the hallway of Jack’s house with an eight-track invented by Guglielmo Marconi. Clearly these strategic adjustments have allowed them to concentrate on more important things, namely rocking the faces off their paying audience. One second in, the album’s title track announces their mission with a sound that resembles a viola being rubbed against a buzz saw with bad intentions (this is a good thing). Next comes the familiar sound of Jack White’s lead guitar accompanied by Meg White’s thunder-drum attack, all bass thumps and cymbal crashes. Cue Jack White, clearly having fun with his vaudevillian croon, singing lyrics that are supposed to be about America’s immigration policy, but really seem to be saying “We are the world’s greatest band and there really isn’t anyone close.” Seriously, somewhere, Radiohead is on a beach drinking a pina colada and breaking out in flop sweat. By the time the demented, antique keyboard part comes in, you will have long since forgotten that this song, richer and more textured than most albums, is being played by two people, one with a willfully primitive grasp on her instrument, with equipment that was produced when All in the Family first hit the airwaves.

From there, the highlights come quicker than drunken hooligans to Philadelphia Phillies dollar-dog nights. “I’m Slowly Turning Into You” is grounded in a persistent organ blast, which you will most likely still find yourself humming during the Hillary Clinton administration. Add in a crunching guitar line, a supremely catchy chorus, and a typically nasty guitar solo by Mr. White, and you have one to start the corporately mandated Greatest Hits package off with. Other highlights include the hyper-blues of “Rag & Bone,” which features Meg and Jack literally playing junk collectors, a pop-country sing-along that might be interpreted as a kiss-off to former flame Renee Zelwegger (“Effect & Cause”), and “Conquest,” a song that would probably be the cheesiest pseudo-show tune in the history of music in less sure hands. Adorned with mariachi horns and surf guitar, the song evolves into a sonic duel between White
and guest musician (another first) Regulo Aldama, with brass blasting out of one speaker and White’s insanely tweaked guitar emerging from the other.

Of course, no White Stripes album would be complete without one head-scratching sound experiment featuring Meg White on lead vocal, and here “St Andrew (This Battle Is in the Air)” takes the cake in spades. With its background of bagpipes being played in reverse, guitar so drenched in feedback it would make the Velvet Underground look like the Everly Brothers, and intentionally off-kilter drumming (insert Meg joke here), the song resembles the end of The Doors’ “The End” on acid. OK, so the end of “The End” already sounds like it is on acid. So let’s say it sounds like the end of “The End” if it was on acid and then took some more acid. Anyway, it’s weird.

It may sound like I am over hyping this album, but, in the interest of full disclosure, I did find a few major flaws. First, the album is not eight hours long, and, second, it does not come with a magic wand that turns it into 13 different, brilliant, earth-shaking tunes every time you listen to it. So there you have it. Don’t go saying I didn’t warn you.

Editor's note: Sadly, the White Stripes are not playing a gig in Philly any time soon (what's up with that, Jack and Meg?!), so we're listing here their vaguely nearby, already sold out show in Wilmington, DE next month.

The White Stripes w/Dan Sartain
Grand Opera House
Wilmington, DE
Fri, 7/27/07, 8PM
$42 (sold out)

Image via Amazon.com