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.
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