Jack White Photo: David James Swanson
Elliott Childs reviews Jack White's latest album, No-Name, noting that it marks a return to the bluesy rock sound that originally endeared him to fans of The White Stripes, The Raconteurs and The Dead Weather.
It’s not an original observation but the analogy of Jack white as Rock Music’s Willy Wonka is a fairly accurate one.
A charismatic eccentric, White has built his Third Man record’s label into a musical empire with multiple beautifully curated retail locations, it’s own vinyl pressing plant and even a range of guitar effects pedals, all whilst continuing to release delicious musical treats to the fans and music fanatics that are his customers.
And those loyal customers who visited one of Third Man’s locations on the 19th of July this year were given an unexpected bonus with any purchase. A white vinyl LP with nothing other than the words No Name stamped on the label.
Word soon got out that the record was a brand new release by White and the album, which kept No Name as its title, was given a full release later in the month.
Whilst White’s last few records have found him exploring the outer reaches of his trademark variation of bluesy rock, No Name finds him returning to a sound that will remind many fans just what they loved about him in the first place.
Packed full of big, fuzzy guitar riffs and simple but effective grooves, a lot of this material would not be out of place on the later White Stripes albums. It serves as a reminder, as if we’d forgotten, what exciting things Jack White can do with an electric guitar.
Religious hypocrisy and dishonesty are big themes on this album with the most energising example being Archbishop Harold Holmes. White takes on the persona of Holmes and narrates a chain letter from the fictional clergyman promising great financial blessings to those who send the letter on to seven friends. White’s replica of the speech of American preachers of days gone by is uncanny in places and it’s all done with enough panache to leave many modern televangelists shaking in their very expensive shoes.
More nuanced but no less pointed in its message is the song Bless yourself. Here White preaches about taking responsibility for your own fate and actions over a wall of chugging, distorted guitars and cymbal crashes.
Jack White has always walked a fine line between historic and modern aesthetics. Look closely at almost any of his work and you will find some element of a bygone era in there. Whether it’s the influences of early blues music in his song writing, his use of a certain plastic vintage guitar, or even his name checking of defunct Japanese audio equipment manufacturer Sansui, the past always lingers in his work. The interesting thing about No Name is that whilst there are historical references all over the record, the big, overarching reference seems to be White’s earlier work.
Of course White is creative enough to never simply replicate the past and by incorporating elements of how his style has evolved in the intervening years on No Name, he not only re-visits his past style he expands it.
