Here's my recent review from the recent Whatzup (copyright questions notwithstanding - sorry Doug!)
THE WHITE STRIPES
ICKY THUMP
Many moons ago, and in a much different context from music, a very wise and great man, Mr. whatzup, told me that "When everything is screaming for your attention, nothing grabs your attention." I've since descended the mountain, carrying this wisdom with me to this day.
I'm sure sometime early in Jack White's career the suits at the record company told him, "You, sir, are gifted. And where you lack, we will fill in with a truckload of undiluted hype."
And hype they did. A Wikipedia search reveals multiple paragraphs of gimmicks and stunts executed by the striped ones and/or their labels in the last few years used to grab your attention or, at least, Rolling Stone's attention and subsequent symbiotic affection.
I grew up listening to Yes and Queen, so I know that rock n' roll and pretentiousness are inseparable. Those groups had the musical chops to back up the pretense, and so does Jack White, to a certain extent, but I can't listen to him play without feeling that I'm getting these riffs thirdhand – the blues of Robert Johnson, electrified by Jimmy Page, then filtered through Jack White. One major difference: Jimmy Page had John Paul Jones and Bonzo Bonham behind him.
So, maybe I was just getting too old, critical, embittered and effectively deafened to screaming hype. In fact, just a few weeks ago I would have shook my cane in the air and said that I just don't get The White Stripes. I would have ended up dodging hate mail from those who believe The White Stripes to be the next incarnation.
But then comes their sixth major release, Icky Thump. I have to side with the small contingent of Stripes' fans that say that there really is nothing to 'get' – it√ïs just simply music. I haven't read the glossy red, black and white CD sleeve; I haven't witnessed their latest promotional stunts and gimmicks on MTV; I haven't read any hosanna puff pieces in Rolling Stone; I just drank my Metamucil, lifted my pants up to my chest, and listened to the album. Like the previous albums, it still has that spontaneous feeling – as if they just turned on the tape machine and let it roll until they had 140 minutes of material, then picked the best 50 minutes and called it a record. This time around, though, an overwhelming majority of said 50 minutes is really enjoyable. The first song and title track uses a guitar synth to evoke memories of the git-synth lead on Zeppelin's "Fool in the Rain." The Zep vibe continues with an invocation of a laid-back Robert Plant on "You Don't Know What Love Is (You Just do as You√ïre Told)" and "300mph Torrential Outpour Blues."
They finally jump off this stairway to heaven with the humorous and clever bolero, "Conquest." It's back to the Zep-meets-Black-Sabbath with "Bone Broke," then on to a nice change of pace with the pipes and mandos on the Celtic-tinged "Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn." Then something goes terribly wrong when the sweet "Prickly Thorn" segues into the self-indulgent mistake known as "St. Andrew (The Battle is in the Air)." It's back on the blues/rock train for the next few enjoyable and often humorous tips of the hat to Page. "Baby Brother," an electric Elvis-on-acid rockabilly number, ends Icky Thump strongly and humorously.
I've been wrong many times before, but I just don't see the gimmick express carrying The White Stripes much farther than this sixth release, but then again I never understood how Friends lasted 10 seasons, either. I want to hear Jack White grind out his excellent chops on something that's not so derivative – or at least call up John Paul Jones and Jason Bonham for the next album. They're probably not too busy. In Through the Striped Door, anyone? (Keith Roman)
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