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For the longest time the White Stripes were my guilty pleasure. Saying their name around musicians is like uttering the name Charles Darwin among Christians or George Bush among Democrats. However, the Whites seem oblivious to outside praise and criticism. They are an anomaly: A two piece band who reduces genres to their bare essentials to see how many ways they can twist, hammer, and shape it into something viable. They do this without an ounce of flash or technical abilities. Jack's near juvenile guitar playing, and Meg's "trained monkey on drums" abilities are among the worst in all of music. The Stripes are essentially an exercise in maximization through minimalization. The variations and nuances they're able to saturate this simplicity with is extraordinary. The results are endlessly surprising and rewarding.
They also seem to alternate - album wise - between interpretations on traditional forms (rock, pop, folk) and experimentation: Although these two sides - the traditional and experimental - are almost always integrated, the focus usually remains on one. De Stijl was their most traditional blues/pop album, with Elephant being a logical progression on that concept that expanded the overall palette. White Blood Cells is perhaps their quirkiest, as it leaped into vast new territories and styles, with Get Behind Me Satan being a focused, refined, near perfection of that stylish mishmash. Now to Icky Thump: At once a return to tradition and complete perfection of it. The spiritual precursor to Icky is Elephant - not the experimental Get Behind Me Satan. The first three songs epitomize this concept:
The title track is monumental, crushing rock. Featuring a towering riff from Jack White, A pulsing "thud" beat from Meg. Along with a vocal delivery that teeters on the edge of manic breakdown and complete control, spitting venom the entire time. "You Don't Know What Love Is" is a foray back to De Stijl and pop in its purest form with no excess. It's also perhaps (and I say this tentatively) the best pop song Jack has written. From electric and eclectic to calm with aplomb (bad wordplay, I know) we get to "300 M.P.H. Torrential Outpour Blues" (I have to gasp just saying it!). This song evokes Bob Dylan like nothing else I've heard from the White Stripes or anyone. The reiterated acoustic lick is absorbing in its meditative restraint. The electric breaks only provide a contrast rather than a driving force to the track.
Then we head into the experimental grasp of Jack again. "Conquest" is pounding and incessant, with its horn flourishes evoking a definite Mexicano vibe. From Mexico to Ireland (or Scotland) we get "Prickly Thorn, But Sweetly Worn". An acoustic, Irish (Scottish?) clog dance that's as charming as anything Jack has done. "St. Andrew" provides a kind of epilogue to "Prickly Thorn' with its accelerating rhythm being lead by a lively bagpipe and miniscule female vocals. "Little Cream Soda" continues the 'Little' tradition, returning to the metal tones of "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground" with a distortion drenched riff from Jack that's as good as any he's produced. "Catch Hell Blues" features a tumultuous slide riff that's vaguely reminiscent of "Little Bird" from De Stijl, but more hellish and electric. Jack also hasn't lost his sense of humor. Both "Rag & Bone" and "Effect & Cause" are as whimsical as anything he's done. The former being a rhythmic, comical take on requesting people's unwanteds and the latter being a country-esque romp on refusing to accept the consequences of one's actions.
What catapults this album above the previous Stripes' efforts is Jack's transcendent leap in his lyrical and vocal stylings. I normally don't care for lyrics, but Jack White forces you to pay attention to his due to the inventiveness at which he writes and the originality in which he delivers. The title track being a prime example: At first it sounds akin to a rapper's delivery as Jack rhythmically blurts out variations on "ump", while expanding on this concept throughout. Jack wrenches, bends, twists and distorts syllables; emphasizing serpentine rhythmic drive over melody. This is similar to The Beatles' most experimental vocal work, and Dylan's flow of delivery. Jack's variety of emotive abilities are among the best in all of modern music. If the idea of song is the fusion of music and words - where one acts to enhance the other - then The Stripes may personify that idea better than any other these days.
This album only 'fails' - a better term would be "fail to surpass previous efforts" - when Jack doesn't push himself. Reverting back to comfortable territory. "Bone Broke" is an attempt to return to their punkish, garage days - but it is no Fell In Love With a Girl. Both "I'm Slowly Turning Into You" and "A Martyr for My Love for You" are decent, but lacking in the freshness the rest of the album permeates. However, their inclusion is welcome as they're too good to be considered filler.
If any Stripes albums could truly be called serious, then Icky Thump is the furthest away from that definition. Rather, this is Jack and Meg at their most playful and fun. Confident in what they can do, they produce songs that effortlessly fit within their respective abilities. As always, variety is key. Acoustic, electric, and ultimately eclectic, Icky Thump isn't a radical departure for the Whites, but just an assured, adept execution of their wealth of styles and ideas. It's the nuances that reward repeated listens. This isn't musically dense material, but it's subtle music all the same. Perhaps the only other fault is that in the Stripes' refusal to strive for eminence they may also never reach the heights of albums like Highway 61, Sgt. Pepper, or Born to Run (insert your applicable favorites). If Icky Thump is their peak (and it may be), then I only wonder where they go from here.
The White Stripes have transformed me from a hesitant supporter into an avid one. If Get Behind Me Satan was my acquiescence, then Icky Thump was my revelation. No longer do I consider them my great "guilty pleasure". I could solely appreciate the fearlessness at which they tackle everything. Most bands walk on eggshells afraid of failing, but The Stripes seem apathetic to the notion that they could - with any misstep - ruin their popularity. Instead, they seem rather insouciant about the entire thing - likely wondering how a quirky garage band ended up being hailed as the 'saviors' of pop music. They seem to belong to a bygone era. One in which bands pushed themselves into uncharted waters - daring themselves to improve - growing and evolving in the studio instead of behind closed doors. Perhaps, most importantly, they seem to produce everything with a real sense of passion and honesty, completely lacking any of the contrivances and pretenses in modern pop and rock music.
In the end, I can only echo what Steve Vai (I believe it was) said about them: "Out of tune. Out of time. Beautiful."
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