Jack White: "Sixteen Saltines" @ Lolla 2012

Juke Box Hero critiques Lolla's Sunday headliner, Mr. Jack White.

Jack White. The man is a human pinnacle. If you want to call him “human.”

Going out on top as a White Stripe, a Raconteur, and a Dead Weather would have been an admirable career for any musician. But no, Jack had more music to make. So he started his own label, Third Man Records, and has been fostering, producing, and promoting young and eccentric music since 2001. Just pursuing that venture for the rest of his days would be impressive and noteworthy. No, still not enough. He hadn’t pressed a solo album yet. Blunderbuss, out earlier this year, is a beautiful buzz-saw of an album, complete with enough scathing rock, blues, folk, and country to dump him into the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame, hands down.

And yes, he’s still touring. Not because he needs to; his name couldn’t get any bigger, his war chest any heavier – but because he needs to. Squealing, blissed-out guitar solos are just in this guy’s blood, as is leading the most backbreaking blues-rock bands the world has ever seen. You get the feeling, watching him strut and shred in his patent-white ankle boots, that if he wasn’t on stage going 100 miles an hour, he’d just lay down and die. There’s no in-between for him in this life.

The frenetic “warm-up” intro to “16 Saltines” here at Lolla sounds like the kind of controlled chaos that must be going on in Mr White’s brain 24-7 – a frightening, enlightening place. The laws of genre, class of instrument, rhythm, structure and key cease to exist. All that matters is Jack. Somehow he had that raucous outburst orchestrated, dialed in; yet things still revved up for the opening bars of “16.”

The song itself? I don’t know if I was there in person whether I would’ve simply fainted or broken myself moshing like a rabid pinball. He just rocks so damn hard. But miraculously his merry band of dapper dandies is drum-tight behind him, looking and sounding every bit the best living live ensemble on the planet.

Yes, I professed undying love for Dan & Pat yesterday, and no, I’m not going back on that. What’s that? I can’t love them both separate-but-equally? That’s like saying I can’t give all my love to both whiskey and chocolate. Why yes, yes I can. Take it away, Jack, and take me with you.

The Black Keys: "Little Black Submarines" @ Lolla 2012

Juke Box Hero has the first crack at a Lolla wrap-up. He'll be back tomorrow with more. So, who impressed you?

Though I was at least in the same country this year, I missed Lollapalooza, yet again. Thank you, Northern Virginia Swimming League, for (albeit always) scheduling your All-Star meet during the first weekend in August. But no matter. The shows went on: Minds young and old were blown, faces taut and wrinkly melted, eardrums big and small – shattered. Though I rejoice with the veterans, those who can afford “that rock-and-roll lifestyle” year after year, my heart soars for the young ‘uns, the rock concert virgins experiencing amazing bands live for the first time.

I’ve long since released my hipster hold on Akron’s other superstar entity, the titanic blues-rock banshees Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney of The Black Keys. I’m happy they’ve become so successful, truly I am, because they seem to have let most of it roll off their rugged denim and screen-print T-shirted backs while continuing to just crank out f*cking sweet, gritty, blistering jams. And they’re the main reason my 13-year-old cousin and her friend convinced the friend’s dad to escort them from northern Indiana up the coast to Chicago this past weekend. They wanted to see the Keys. Not the Bieb, not the Swift, not even the Flo (no offense, Ms. Welch) – the Keys. There may be hope for America’s youth.

A solid clip of their full set doesn’t seem to be available yet, so we’ll temporarily settle for the “Stairway to Heaven” of Dan & Pat’s oeuvre, “Little Black Submarines.” The slow-fast section contrast is as good as any IN MUSIC and the live guitar change (what’s the first one made of? Copper? Nickel? Dan & Pat’s old fillings?) both adds to the suspense and takes the payoff over the edge. The crowd just erupts. Can Sabbath do that? Anymore? Ever?

Now, I’m no blind disciple: I’ll be the first to tell the boys they too often rush like Rush in a live setting. And the “dogfight” here is no exception – I don’t need a live version identical to the recording, but the Lolla audience didn’t shell out just to see them blaze through a track that could’ve lasted even 30 seconds longer by holding back the tempo and letting the blues benevolently dictate some further soulful head-nodding.

But I’ll forgive you, D & P. You’ve done a great service in the community. Thank you for popping thousands of little boys’ and girls’ concert cherries. I’ll be seeing you.

Sigur Rós: “Hoppípolla / Með Blóðnasir”

It's three hours until the gates of Lollapalooza open!! Juke Box Hero is here with our final pre-Lolla coverage. Whatcha got for us?

I recall the leggy blonde coach briefly courted by Gordon Bombay in “D2: The Mighty Ducks” coyly explaining to a fawning Emilio Estevez: “No, Greenland is covered in ice; Iceland is very nice.” The Nice Nordics. That’s who Sigur Rós are. Only an environment of lush, cold splendor and dramatic annual shifts in the length of visible sunlight could produce a group with such a uniquely eerie, mystifying, absolutely gorgeous sound.

Formed in 1994, in Reykjavik, around lead singer Jónsi Birgisson (and named after his baby sister), Sigur Rós are now six albums deep and growing steadily in popularity. Unlike many foreign groups who aspire to make it big on the international stage, they haven’t converted their music, song or album titles to English, making them the most popular group to do so since Ritchie Valens and “La Bamba.”

In fact, their lyrics aren’t even intelligible to their countrymen. Jónsi and his crew sing in “Volenska,” or “Hopelandic,” a language of gibberish that lacks the typical subject-verb structure you and I are used to communicating with. What?! Basically, it’s the next thing up from just repeating the syllable “La.” Vocal formations that jive with the music and have little to no meaning – voice as instrument only. It must be fun to invent your own language and get away with it. I’m going with #highconcept on that one.

To be honest, it’s not easy finding a Rós track to “jam” with. They generate broad, sweeping electro-soundscapes that glimmer with Birgisson’s piercing falsetto and rise and fall by the strokes of his characteristic string bow over guitar strings. It’s a lot of mellow, moody stuff, and Birgisson can get a little whiny-wimpery at times. But there’s beautiful depth there, the kind you can close your eyes and dream to: Imagine epic adventures with mythological beasts romping around the expansive northern landscape. Yes, that sounds nice.

GUEST POST BY MY MOM: Mofro: "Dirt Floor Cracka"

Okay, so Lollapalooza starts tomorrow, in approximately 12 hours, and my mother and best friend from high school are in town to attend, since I'm the awesomest and I scored them free 3-day passes. In return, I harangued my mom into writing a guest post. As you might expect, she has great taste in music, so I invited her to cover one of her most anticipated acts this weekend. Take it away, Ma.

My beautiful awesome wonderful daughter has brought me to Chicago for Lollapalooza this year. She's always been pretty awesome, but this year she has launched into astronomical awesomeness. There are about 20 bands I'm super psyched to see, and very near the top of the list is JJ Grey and MOFRO. I never thought in a million years I would get a chance to see them. Living on the Big Island of Hawaii, good shows are rare and expensive. In fact in 11 years, I would say the only show really worth mentioning is the Los Lobos concert my husband went to up in Honoka'a. But we're losing track of JJ...back to that.

I was first introduced to JJ Grey and MOFRO about 6 years ago by another super awesome person named Jaybird. At that time, they were just billed as MOFRO. Jaybird is the DJ in charge of Endless Boundaries, a radio show out of Philly that we ran on our short lived internet radio station KGKO Gecko Rock. You can check out his podcasts and other stuff here.

Jay has awesome taste in music, which usually leans toward jam band and dubstep type things, so I was really pleasantly surprised to hear JJ Grey on his show. I was immediately drawn to JJ's gravelly, funky blues infested melodies. The band is top notch, and makes ample use of slow funky organ, slide guitar, and harmonica. Rounding out the sound is a killer horn section. The best part is they sound just as good or better live as they do in the studio. JJ Grey and MOFRO are self-made, recording most of their tracks in JJ's studio at his home in Florida. Here's a pretty good 8 minute documentary about JJ.

Check out their Facebook page for tour info and other updates.

Oberhofer: "o0Oo0Oo"

Oberhofer's poppy psychadelics will open the Bud Light stage at 1 p.m. on Sunday.