"'Natch," think anybody who reads this and knows me personally. I've made no bones about being a big Stripes fan, ever since I got White Blood Cells. I liked them at the time because they were Rock and they were sharp, and they had good gimmicks (boy/girl, no bass, etc.). I started to love them after Elephant, a slab of gutbucket Rock n'Roll that was much more focused than White Blood Cells, which wandered in the second half. I had to laugh at the poor denuded bastards who bought the album on the basis of "Seven Nation Army" the dance-club single, only find themselves awash in feedback and other bluesman blowtorchery. Caveat Emptor, ya dinks. It ain't like it's hard to find out what a band sounds like before you plunk cash down.
But back to that bluesman blowtorchery. "Ball and Biscuit," has long been my favorite song from a) this album, b) this band, c) the whole rock revival of the early 00's. It's not hard to understand why. It's Jack White giving carte blanch to his lust for guitar wankery, 5 minutes of pure distorted sonic clash. Does the riff and chorus repeat? A little. Does it demonstrate a whole lotta imagination? Not too much, no. Do I care? Nah.
The Stripes are a glorious example of rock primitivism, not of the Rousseauist noble-savage free-your-mind school of someone like the Fugs, but true primitivism, that seeks art in the dirt of the land, for its own sake. How else would you explain the opening lyrics?
It's quite possible that I'm your third man, girl
But it's a fact that I'm the seventh son
Coming from Julian Casablancas, or even Howlin' Pelle Almqvist, this would be at best inconspicuous and at worst risible. Coming from the guy who sang "I can tell that we are gonna be friends," it's attention-getting, hearkening back to folk myths and the Bible (King David was a seventh son), a statement of power.
If you understand that, then you understand that Get Behind Me Satan isn't a departure, it's a logical progression of their sound, bringing in marimbas and mandolins and sweet chimes to explore the other connections of folk and rock and blues music. Jack and Meg will never have the polish of an REM, nor will they be burdened with the same secondhand Voice-of-a-Generation status. While the Stripes are working a similar heartland-rock melieu, everyone understands that they speak for no one but themselves. Frankly, that's refreshing to see.
#16
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