First on First - Jimmy the Exploder

The White Stripes first album was released on the day of my 26th birthday, though I wouldn't know they existed until about 2 years later when I first saw the iconic video for "Fell in Love With a Girl" and instantly fell in love with a band. I think I bought all three albums they had out at the same time and just played the living fuck out of them. They were raw and unpretentious and deceptively simple. But if you paid attention, it was clear none of it was just tossed off. It was crafted by a genius, from the songs to the production to the visuals and the mythology. Were Jack and Meg really brother and sister? Were they previously married? Both!? It was easy to track down the truth online, but maybe it was better not to. And the colors. Always the same three colors, from that video I loved with the stop motion, abstract Lego mosaic duo playing to every album cover and every outfit: red, white and black. Always. Somehow those colors were enough just like a drum and guitar were enough. It's primal and primitive and childlike - but not childish. Innocent but not naive. And the first song on the first album is a concise representation of all this and more. "Jimmy the Exploder" not only captures the sound but also the general experimental aesthetic energy of the band and all they would go on to become.

Blown out and pounding this screaming garage beat has undeniable energy. It just instantly makes you want to jump around the monkeys on the bed, yelling "hoo hoo hoo!" It's before you know it, but not before taking somehow making you think of everything from Led Zeppelin and The Ramones to The Violent Femmes and Son House, all filtered through a couple of kids just messing around with toy instruments. Seriously, every time I heard this songs back then and still today, I'll notice some other little bit that obliterates the whole "it's so simple" veneer all over it. What's the song about? Well, Jack White says "I’d been writing all these childish songs, like ‘Jimmy the Exploder’ from our first album – this story I made up about this monkey who exploded things that weren’t the color red."

The rest of the album adds more layers to this but not more complexity. At the time the thankfully dropped term "blunk" for blues+punk was tossed around to describe the sound. While that's a stupid label for many reasons, not the least of which being that punk already contains blues in it, it was understandable that a new label was sought. But I think the mistake was that the sound itself was not necessarily what was new, but rather the approach. In that sense, the punk part was true and there's obviously a strong blues influence in everything Jack White has ever done. But, the essence of The White Stripes was always the sense of discovery. From Meg White's primal drumming to Jack White's insistence on using shitty guitars, it's like the music comes out through shear force of will and that struggle is what gives it urgency. It's as if each song on the album was caught by pure luck because they likely couldn't play it exactly the same again. The fact that they famously didn't use set-lists in concert only added to this. Having seen them in concert, I can attest that what they did was magical and every song was alive in a spontaneous way that I've never experienced at another show.

It would be an exaggeration to say that "Jimmy the Exploder" contains everything they would ever do in it's 2 and a half minutes. But the essence, the feeling, the possibilities are all there. It sets everything up, laying some of the cards on the table, and while their would be many other cards to come, they'd all be coming from this one very unique deck. As unexpected as each new deal might be, what would strike you more is how one simple deck could have so many amazing combinations.

Best Albums of 2015: Number Five

While there is certainly a good helping of rock among my top 10, this album at number 5 is really the only one where the whole rock n roll superheroes vibe comes across. You know what I mean? That whole slimy and glamorous, gritty and grand, rebellious and authoritative, atmosphere that you get from some of the great, larger than life, classic bands. The Dead Weather's Dodge and Burn is what I imagine people that really loved Led Zeppelin or The Rolling Stones in the 70s felt that band was doing. If the music business was what it was back then, this is a band that would absolutely dominate the culture right now.

The term supergroup, when members of several big bands come together to form a supposedly bigger band, comes with a lot of baggage, hype and hubris. But while this band technically fits the definition, it also delivers on the original promise of the term. This really is the Rock n Roll Justice League of today, the gold standard. Because ultimately, even though Alison Mosshart and Jack White are the most recognizable here (the Batman and Superman, if you will) there would be no Justice League without The Flash and Green Lantern (Dean Fertita and Jack Lawrence). It's the whole that is ultimately greater than the parts and here, unlike ego heavy supergroups, that comes across crystal clear. Which is a giant feat considering White's legendary (and maybe even justified) ego.

On Dodge and Burn, their third album, they are at their most comfortable but that doesn't come with any loss of tension or energy. The first album felt a little more cautious and while the second album completely let loose on the world, this time they really demonstrate that this is no mere "side project." I always get the sense that Mosshart is a hairs width away from crying and/or beating your ass with your own limbs in some orgasm of hate and lust and I don't know what. In short, her voice is the ultimate distillation of rock n roll and in the hands of mad scientist White producing, this band is like a beaker of rock n roll moonshine that will burn your fucking soul. The groove in tracks like "Let Me Through" push you to abandon all else in order to jam.

At the moment, I would say my favorite track on the album is probably "Cop and Go." This thing is pure white fire and sexy horror. Fertita's overblown guitar twang over White's bashing, a psycho piano from hell and Lawrence's funky bass is awesome here, but the bit that pushes it over the edge to me is that "will you give a little back to me" tag line from Mosshart. In any other year, this would have likely been higher on my list. But the truth is, from here on, it's really almost interchangeable. For now, just listen to this thing and if a team of black leather clad badasses burst through your walls with flaming guitars, well, you might be hallucinating from this album, so just turn it up louder and enjoy.

2015 Week 38: Don't Fucking Call Me

The other day this song came up in the car from my favorites and I guess Shayera loved it. When we were dropping Zoey off at daycare, Shayera kept singing it. Her way: "You need your medicine, don't mess with your mama. . . " Still cool.

The new Dead Weather album, Dodge and Burn showed up on Spotify today and it's amazing. Just ordered the vinyl. It's not as dark as Sea of Cowards but still has that Gothic funk badass vibe they are so good at. It's steeped in groove and swagger and pulses with implied sex. This is without a doubt my favorite of Jack White's bands, and I loved The White Stripes. But there's something kind of mythical about this band with the leather and the beats and the danger. Alison Mosshart is maybe the best rock singer around right now, not just vocally but with that certain aura she brings that comes across in her voice. It's in your face and vulnerable, seduces and frightens, intimidates and soothes all at the same time in a way that perfectly captures the angst and abandon of rock n roll. It's the only Jack White band I haven't seen live. For all that is unholy, please tour soon and come down to South Florida, damn it.

This week's Spotify playlist is framed by a phone call. Bet you didn't know that Jayne Mansfield recorded an answer song to The Big Bopper's "Chantilly Lace." Well, she did, it's called "That Makes It" and it closes off the playlist. In between, it's mostly about loud and in your face because to me, that's what a phone call is. If you know me, you know my motto is "don't fucking call me." Man's greatest achievement is the text message. Use it. A ringing phone is an obnoxious interruption with you on the other end demanding my attention against my will "HEY HEY HEY!!!" Fuck that. My phone's on silent, man's other great achievement. OH BABY YOU KNOW WHAT I LIKE!!

24 Hr Records: Behind the Scenes in a Little Room

Remember when you were in school and had to crunch out a project last minute? The stress and the pressure would build up and paralyze you as the days and weeks would tick by while you "thought about it" and before you knew it, it was due and you had to rush and do something. The thing is, in many cases, for some of us, those procrastinated papers would end up being some of our best work because the time constraint at the end made it so you had two options: you either mastered the art of bullshit, which is a valuable skill, no matter what anyone says, or, in an even better scenario, you eliminated the bullshit altogether and cut to the heart of whatever the topic was. Either way, the sense of accomplishing something in a relatively short period of time usually came through in the work. And that sense of accomplishment, of putting something together from start to finish in a compressed amount of time, although minus the pressure, comes through in Made in Network's web series, 24 HR Records.

Photo by Andrew White.

The premise is simple, they take 3 musicians that have never met before,  lock them in a studio for 24 hours and film them as they write and record 3 songs. The result is a boiled down look at the creative process and the universality of the language of music. In the latest episode, Tripple, they gathered Justin Tam (Humming House), Brooke Waggoner (solo and member of Jack White's band) and Juan Solorzano (Night Beds and many more). On one level, these are musicians that are working in similar enough styles so it's not completely shocking to have them work together. And the video does make it seem like it was easy enough for them to merge their styles. But once you hear the songs, it does highlight how collaborators, no matter how close in style, can influence each other and create things completely different than they would have alone or with a different set of partners. No matter how much in agreement a group of artists might be, what they create together will be different from what they would have done alone.

I am most familiar with Justin Tam's work, so it's the easiest comparison for me to make, and this feels very different from Humming House. For starters, the three songs they came up with are mostly quiet and sleepy, as opposed to Humming House's generally ecstatic joy and higher energy, though this does come through in the last song "Hope in My Head," a short, simple and jumping little number that features some nice interplay between Tam and Wagonner's vocals. Meanwhile, "Over Again" has a nice sleepy bass groove that Wagonner's voice perfectly balances, as it carries you into a dream like state of relaxation. These songs may not be big, and they may be put together quickly, but they are not poorly crafted by any means.

Photo by Andrew White.

But for me, the stand out track for several reasons, is actually the first they composed, "Never Began." It's the one that seems to feature the most complete representation of the exercise in its most human form. They begin jamming on a piece a piece Solorzano brought, as Waggoner adds in the basic piano melody and gets Tam thinking about his wife. It winds up becoming this very personal piece about how Tam has to leave his wife to go on the road, which in turn becomes a more universal song about being apart from loved ones. The great thing about this is that it just happens. It's not this great, pretentious affair where the artists attempt to make it universal, but rather its just three human beings communicating through music and reaching something that anyone can relate to on some level. The piano melody and the back and forth between Tam and Wagonner really give you the sense of a hazy distance between loved ones. And while there is a general melancholy feel to it, it's anchored by sweetness overall, so it's not a dark sadness. Wagonner's lines particularly slightly switch the mood up, making this track a nice impressionist slice of complex emotion, where you're reminded how it's ultimately nice to miss and be missed sometimes, knowing soon "forever will end, like it never began." It's really a beautiful little piece that I'm not sure I would have expected to come out of something like this.

As someone who under different circumstances might have learned and developed some kind of musical ability, I am always fascinated by the process. Watching these short videos that explore exactly how that happens, is much like the ubiquitous behind the scenes featureless that we get for movies. Only here, it's more focused on the whole and doesn't come off as some overblown exercise in promotion or something that might reveal too much. Last year, I wound up loving the Foo Fighters' HBO series Sonic Highways for many of the same reasons I find 24 Hr Records fascinating. Only on 24 HR Records, the end result isn't set ahead of time. There's no clear goal as to what the songs need to be about. It ends up being more organic and more in tune with Jack White's "Little Room" philosophy of getting back to basics, which is something I always respond to.

I hope this series gets more attention and we get to see some bigger and less likely faces show up. I want to see how big names with big egos might handle this. With most, if not all, of the participants so far being mainly indie artists, they tend to be much more open to experimentation and collaboration, I think.  The possibilities for this are pretty endless, but I guess it's a matter of availability as well. Either way, I plan to keep an eye on them.  

Dylan and Longevity

So the other day, I had a last minute invitation to see Dylan from Carlos. It was my third time seeing him and I'm fairly certain it'll be the last. Interestingly enough, the last time I saw him, over 15 years ago, was the first official date between my wife and I. And I use the word official because we'd been hanging out as friends for some time, but had gone past the point where were we fooling anyone anymore. Anyway, the show was ok, I guess. He had a great band and he was alright. He's still somewhat capable, but I felt like he was out of breath a lot of the time. I've said before I don't look for a "perfect" voice, but there was just something off. His energy isn't quite there anymore, maybe. I don't know. Carlos really liked it, so go read his review here.

I'm sure the crowd didn't help my experience any either. One thing I've noticed is the absolute rudest people are old people and old hippies are the worst. At one point I had to tell the two old bags behind me to keep it down, but they weren't the only ones talking. They just happened to be the most obnoxious.

While Dylan played I was struck with the thought of what artist from our generation my daughters might go see when they are older that would be comparable to us seeing Dylan, Elvis Costello or someone else like that. I couldn't really think of anyone that might have that longevity 20 or so years from now. The only one I could think of that might do it was Jack White, mainly because he's already had 3 bands and a solo career and keeps finding ways of reinventing the way he presents his material. Another candidate might be Dan Auerbach, but I see him moving more towards producing down the line. Then there's Alex Turner, who, truthfully is the best writer of the 3, so he has more potential. It all depends on how long Arctic Monkeys stay together and whether he eventually goes solo. It could just be that Arctic Monkeys is the band that my daughters go see when I'm 64. Who the hell knows?

I couldn't really think of anyone from the 90s that would really qualify to that extent. Cobain would have been, maybe, but I don't think Eddie Vedder would be at that level. Certainly not Billy Corgan. Dave Grohl, most likely. Maybe Tori Amos, if she found some new direction at some point? Bjork? How about hip hop artists? How will they age? Will there be an unlikely Tribe Called Quest reunion in 2040? The Fugees? doubtful on both counts. Chances are it'll be a pop artist like Christina Aguilera. or Adele. I don't know. I need a time machine.

Jack White - Fillmore Miami September 21, 2014

From Jack's website. I'm in the bottom right, somewhere.

Like, I assume, most people, I first heard the White Stripes sometime in 2001 when the video for "Fell in Love With a Girl" was huge. I was intrigued and started digging to find that Jack White was one of those artists who had apparently been digging through the soundtrack that plays inside my very soul for inspiration. I fell in love with a band and very quickly sought out their full catalog to that point, which was just 3 albums and haven't stopped being a Jack White fan for the past 13 or so years. I saw the Stripes at Red Rocks in 2007 and felt like it was the equivalent of having seen Hendrix back in the day. The energy and spontaneity of that show is something I'll probably never see again. At one point, I had to pee, badly, and actually considered peeing my pants or in a water bottle, but I didn't have the top for the bottle. A couple years later, I saw The Raconteurs on their first tour, and was blown away when presented with further evidence that White had been digging around in my head to decide to do a cover of "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)." So, I was pretty excited about seeing Jack White play last Sunday night, in support of his second solo album. It was interesting to see so many others just as excited, in Miami of all places. I hate to be the grumpy hipster, but I was into him way before any of you. (Meh. Mustache twirl.)

My forehead was super excited!

This is was also the first time I've ever gone to a concert alone. I'm not sure why I never did it before, but I think I'm doing it more often. There have been many times I've missed out on bands I wanted to see because nobody else I know liked them. Well, fuck that. And an added bonus was that it was easy to get into the pit and close to the stage without the extra baggage. So, yeah, this will happen again.

The crowd had a pretty wide age range, which wasn't too surprising, given Jack's musical range, but it's funny how the older dudes, at least in my area of the pit, seemed to be more energetic about the show than anyone else. At one point, before anyone had even played, some lady right in front of the stage, fainted and was carried out by Fire Rescue, alone. If she came with anyone, they made a very clear choice that day, because they did not budge as her limp body was taken away. I hope they at least said "See ya!" I laughed with my new best friend, the giant forty-something year old next to me who was the only other person jamming to A Tribe Called Quest's "Scenario" when it played on the PA. We both scoffed at one youngling who had to Shazam it. Another new companion was one of the many 4 foot tall twenty year old girls who, several times, lit a joint she just had hanging from her mouth like she was the covergirl for some trashy pulp novel from the 50s, with a flower in her hair. 

Olivia Jean's album drops in October.

Opening for Jack was Olivia Jean, who I had never heard of. I liked her 60s rock girl vibe with the gothic country flair. I'm not sure the crowd did. She wasn't even on long but the youngsters had made up their minds not to like her the minute they didn't recognize her. I'm certain of it. They didn't even give her a chance. At least they weren't rude, but I was losing faith in this crowd. If they truly knew Jack (like I did), they'd at least be open to this sort of thing, since it's what he's all about. But that's Miami for you, I guess. Anyway, once she was done, they closed the curtains, which is not common. At one point, a guy in a Guyabera and hat came out to tell everyone how awesome it is to be at a live show and not watch it through a cellphone screen. In other words, no pictures or videos, please. I can respect that, and agree with it, but I think it's a blanket type statement that assumes there can be no middle ground. There's a lot to be said for capturing the moment, from your unique perspective, while still being present in it. But, judging from the couple of "this is bullshit" type reactions around me, I think I might be in the minority with the balance thing. Plus, a few people still pulled out their phones at some points. I may have been one of them.

Also from Jack's site. I want this job.

So, while we're all just jamming to the hip hop being played over the PA, there suddenly comes 2 loud sharp snare hits, the PA cuts off, the band strikes the first chord and the curtain bursts open, all at the same time. With no preamble, we were assaulted with lights and "High Ball Stepper." The attitude was cocky and explosive and infectious and the crowd spontaneously combusted. One song after another, the energy never let up. This was similar to when I saw the Stripes. Of course, the Stripes never used a set list so that was just a spontaneous jam session, that seamlessly went from song to song on Jack's whims. This was clearly not that, nor could it be, since there are many more players involved and the arrangements are much more complex. So, there was structure. But it still felt loose with Jack jumping around between several mics and switching guitars at will. It takes serious talent to keep up with that, and the band had it, for sure.

This guy! (Also from the site.)

One thing that may have hurt the show was the decision to do what was basically 3 separate sets, each divided by a closed curtain and about 5 to 10 minutes. I get it and I was cool with it, but I'm not sure it was for everybody. Some people may have lost momentum as a result. For those of us in the pit, the energy was fine, though. At one point, my new pal, the old giant, was jumping so hard he nearly killed a bunch of us, including me and Reefer Madness. I'm still not sure what all these tiny girls were getting out of staring at sweaty backs the whole show, but they seemed excited. Maybe it was the smell of sweat, farts and marijuana. To each his own, I guess.

One of the highlights of the show was "We're Going to Be Friends," which I recently found new meaning in when my oldest daughter started Kindergarten. The crowd was all about the song and we all sang along to the "I can tell that we are going to be friends" chorus at Jack's direction. At one point, he came out to the front of the stage and my section pushed forward. One of the Hobbit girls behind me was apparently on her toes and leaned on me for support, apologizing just as we sang that chorus one more time. It was a brief moment of community among the entire crowd. Or maybe I was just feeling like a softy because I had been thinking about my daughter. Either way, it was a moment.

Hoping Jack didn't see me pull out my phone. Don't want to be the guy that sets him off.

That time Daru and I made a found footage film.

By the time the third, scorching set ended with "Seven Nation Army" everybody's face had melted off. My knees were now killing me and it was time to head home. As I walked to my car, behind the venue, I noticed a line of people waiting hopefully to meet the band. I decided to give it about 5 minutes and see what happened. Soon, Daru Jones, the drummer, appeared and started silently, graciously shaking everyone's hands while dealing with a couple of annoying hipster nerds who for some reason decided this was a good time to ask Jack White's drummer complicated questions about what Jack White was thinking of when he rearranged some of those White Stripes songs and whether or not he was going for a Bob Dylan vibe because, these two pretentious jackasses had just seen Bob Dylan and they noticed that his music was very similar to what Jack White was doing and and and and. Daru just nodded that he didn't know and was nice enough to take a couple of selfies with some of us that didn't interrogate him about shit he'd have no way of answering anyway. At that point, some guy from the management team came up, told us all to gather round and let us know that no other band members would be coming out this way. They were on their way to a family party and sent their best. It was nice of them to let us know, so nobody wasted their night. We were all very appreciative.

So that was that. My next show should be interesting. Stay tuned.

Gender Songs

I've always liked a good cover song, but it's hard to say what it is that makes a cover good. On the one hand, it should bring something new to the song, but sometimes if it strays too far from the original it doesn't work at all. It doesn't really matter if it's a well known song or a completely obscure one, and in many cases, the cover has lead me to discover the original. But one constant that always intrigues me about covers is gender. It's safe to say that at least 99% of the time, if an artist is covering a song that was written in the voice of the opposite gender, they will change lyrics to fit their own. Girls change to boys, men change to women, etc, and vice versa. But way more interesting is when the cover artist doesn't change a thing. When a woman sings a song entirely from a man's point of view or a man from a woman's, it opens the whole thing up in a way that's not easily explained. In some cases, it's not even about the singer's gender at all and more about the gender of the person being sung about or to. A known gay artist singing an originally heterosexual themed song isn't necessary mind blowing, though it still fits in with what I'm talking about. More exciting to me, musically and lyrically, is when the cover artist is known to be heterosexual, yet secure enough to sing the song as originally written. That's where the magic can happen. The clearest example I can think of is The White Stripes doing Dolly Parton's "Jolene." There's no self consciousness there when Jack White begs Jolene "please don't take my man." It doesn't come off as campy and instead makes the raw emotion of the song stand out even more to me.

                              

One reason I think "Jolene" works so well is that it's a great song to begin with and Jack taps into the soul of the story within it. The pain of an insecure woman pleading with another woman, who is clearly more confident and attractive, not to destroy her home is undeniable. That a man is singing it really makes you pay attention to the fact that it would be unlikely, in our culture, for this exchange to happen between two men and makes the entire situation that much more powerful. My dad used to play the original Dolly Parton version when I was growing up, and I never thought twice about it, but now I hear the original, after hearing this version, and I can't help but think of the fact that both Jolene and the singer are living in this misogynist world where they are reduced to fighting over a man who is clearly using them both. And beyond that, the fact their society has them at odds against each other based on the value put on Jolene's looks. And that idea takes me to the fact that in my search for this type of cover, it's so much rarer to find a man singing from a woman's perspective than the other way around. It seems like it's less acceptable for a man to give up his identity to a song than it is for a woman (Maybe. I might be stretching here.). So it's interesting that the next song that comes to mind is also by Jack White.

In September of 2006, I saw the Raconteurs play during their first tour. It was the first time I'd see Jack live during a time that I rarely even listened to anyone else, so I was excited. But by far, the best part of the show, and to this day, one of the greatest moments I've ever had at any show, was when they went into a song and I immediately knew what it was, even though I'd never heard them play it. I recognized the guitar riff and had chills because ever since I first heard the song, having heard "Jolene," I thought Jack should cover it, and here he was, doing just that. And the song was "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" which I only much later learned was originally by Cher, but the version most people know and I absolutely love is by Nancy Sinatra, which I first heard in Kill Bill.

               

Ever since then, I've found dozens of covers of this song, including Stevie Wonder and Frank Sinatra, but they all change the gender. While the song is just as cool, either way, I just find that if sung from a female perspective it works much better (though Sinatra's version does make it feel like it's right out of a film Noir musical). There's something about that "I was 5 and he was 6" line coupled with that twang that just sets a scene in a way that "she was 6" just doesn't do. I can't even explain why.

Anyway, there are tons of covers by women fitting this mode, from Cyndi Lauper covering Prince's "When You Were Mine" to Amy Winehouse doing "Valerie" by The Zutons. There are songs I'd like to hear done by guys, unironically, like Heart's "Magic Man" or "Precious Things" by Tori Amos. It's the type of thing I would do if I were a singer. In the meantime, I've started a Spotify playlist with every cover I can find on there that fits. Here it is. Subscribe to it because I hope to add more as I find them and if you know of any, please send them my way.