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.

Perfect Songs - 96 Tears

Now I'm going to need to track this down.

When people talk about garage rock, I think the first thing everyone with some knowledge of what that means thinks of is The Kingsmen's "Louie Louie." And for good reason. That's a seminal track that really does capture everything about what garage rock was and is about. It set the standard of barely intelligible lyrics yelled out, loud bass, drums that sound like they are in your living room all playing a very simple song and maybe missing notes and cues along the way, but who cares. It's about the feeling. But for me, a better definition of the style is "96 Tears" by ? & The Mysterians, a perfect song.

A hallmark of garage rock is R&B covers played rough and sloppy, like "Louie Louie." Yet, "96 Tears" is not only an original song, the recording isn't all that sloppy. It's almost so on the beat, it's hypnotic. Yet, somehow, that feeling of guys in a garage, just throwing it together comes across. That opening organ, leading into a continuous, almost circus/church counter melody while ? acts as carnival barker/preacher, talking/singing/testifying to this girl and how he's done crying about her and now it's her turn, is something I fell in love with the moment I first heard this song, sometime when I was a kid, listening to the oldies station, Magic 102.7, back in the 80s. It's a sound and feeling that I"m always looking for, and it's one reason the garage revival of the early 2000's that gave us everyone from The White Stripes and Black Keys to The Dirtbombs, The Kills and The Yeah Yeah Yeah's, excited me. But I have to say that as much as I love those bands and others that have come since, none has truly captured what this band captured on this song (maybe King Khan does). To top it off, this was a band with an aura of crazy that starts with the lead singer's name, ?, long before Prince became a symbol.

What makes most songs work is when they hit on something universal and human that comes through in the music. This is no different. The fact that it's an original song doesn't separate it at all from classic R&B, because in it's own way, it is classic R&B. It's got a groove that nobody can deny. That organ dances with the bass line in a way that belongs in a club, while at the same time, still capturing that DIY, garage feel. Garage rock can be a lot of things, but when it works best, the energy and abandon has to be palpable. It is in this song and it's damn infectious. It's perfect.

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.