The White Stripes: ‘Third rock’’s sound heaven

Hype approximating any truth is exceedingly rare but the equation tallies in The White Stripes’ case. ‘Elephant’ has been touted as the “most eagerly awaited album of 2003” (until The Strokes get their second opus ready, no doubt), and you better believe it! There’s been such interest in the content within the red-coloured artwork with one-word on its sleeve to be uploaded as promptly as the mo it reached the BBC’s office of John Peel and thus causing its earlier than originally scheduled release.

The sound of ‘Elephant’ is still based on the Brit blues-rock of the 1960s – no surprise Jeff Beck invited them to play a London show few months back – but, as ever, it is not bogged down in the nostalgia’s quicksand. The White Stripes have always made ‘futurock’, bridging the historical decades with a timeline to come. The rumour is that they recorded this album for £6,000 in a studio full of antiquated gear and if true, re-start the record industry from the scratch! This two people, Jack and Meg White, manage to make music that customises simplicity to emerge as monumental, minimally epic (if this ain’t an oxymoron).

The band’s fourth album, until the 2001’s ‘White Blood Cells’ they were strictly an underground fave, is full of precious tunes of such tricky-scope one doesn’t know whether Jack is the world’s ‘last dreamer’ or there is an ironic curvature to his lips? Probably both but the point is not to analyse too much, just let yourself get lost in this audio ‘rainforest’ where Meg ‘chirps’ ‘In The Cold Cold Night’ with blues abandon and Jack bends strings with devilish glee all the way through.

‘Elephant’ rocks the way musicians used to until… The best example is Led Zeppelin: rising from the ashes of The Yardbirds’ Brit-blues tradition, they transformed into overblown and faux-rock legends that punk (in Britain) had to be the answer. The title of the Stripes’ album honours its heritage, as well as indicates that this album will brand your brainbox for a long time. Although not a perfect record – ‘The Air Near My Fingers’ exhibits obvious room for improvement – the remaining dozen certainly nullify that temporary lapse of the otherwise top standard.

Claiming that this album is dedicated to ‘The Death Of A Sweetheart’, songs like ‘There Is No Home For You Here’ and ‘You’ve Got Her In Your Pocket’ are pure pop classics, ‘Seven Nation Army’ sounds sinister and powerful, ‘Hypnotise’ is euphoric, on ‘The Hardest Button To Button’ Jack appears to nod towards Jagger-isms… If there is one thing that I’d alter here is to re-sequence tracklisting by extracting a couple of tunes from the middle and assign them to closing duty: the aforementioned ‘The Hardest Button…’ should be the penultimate cut with ‘Ball And Biscuit’ bringing down the curtain.

The latter one is a blues-extraordinaire that appears to encapsulate the history of rock in some 10 minutes (it’s probably wrong timing but we are reviewing it from a double-vinyl advance copy, apparently valued at £150 by e-auctioneers), taking you from the heady 1960s to the equally drugged-up tomorrow while Jack suggests being the “Third man”. He is, they are, ‘Elephant’ is as huge as the biggest Buddha statue, as tall as K2, as far reaching as a deep-space probe, as addictive as chocolate, as fresh as sexy Jane Russell…

Music to prolong foreplays… Even among Brits who rationally prefer tea to a bonk… ‘Elephant’ is an album that ought to be supplied with textbooks, medication, benefits, to single parents, divorcees, (sonically) misguided youngsters and arrested developers… It should even be issued to the military personnel!

9/10

Tour dates:

07 April – Civic, Wolverhampton
08 April – Apollo, Manchester
10 April – Academy, Glasgow
11 April – Brixton Academy, London
12 April – Brixton Academy, London