The White Stripes - Elephant
(V2 Records)
4 1/2 (out of 5 stars)
Reviewed: April 5, 2003
Review by Tony Bonyata
The White Stripes are back with their forth album and if you haven't already given up on rock 'n' roll altogether, then there's no better place for a reintroduction to the true spirit of the medium than with their newly released album Elephant.
Like its namesake, this effort is primitive, exotic and humongous. Things start out slightly different from the get-go, however, as a slinky, bottom heavy bass-line (something that this bass-less guitar & drums duo have yet to incorporate on their albums) slowly dry humps drummer Meg White's shotput-in-a-well beat on "Seven Nation Army." It should be noted, however, that this isn't, in fact, the four-stringed rhythm instrument, but rather Jack White utilizing an octave pedal on his guitar to simulate a bass [cheeky purist!].
Recorded in a whirlwind session that lasted only ten days in London's Toe Rag Studio last April, Jack and Meg make it clear on their liner notes that no computers were used during the writing, recording, mixing or mastering of this album. The primordial production can be attributed to Toe Rag's ancient recording equipment - tube amps, old microphones and other audio antiquities - that all pre-date 1963.
The results of just the production values alone are astounding. On heavier rockers, such as "Hypnotize" and "Girl, You Have No Faith In Medicine," Toe Rag producer Liam Watson has not only supplied this Detroit duo with a squeaky clean, unadulterated canvas to heave their filthy Nuggets-era garage rock onto, but on the sentimentally sweet ballad of "You've Got Her In Your Pocket" you can practically see the glass tubes glowing brightly when Jack cries, "I want to keep you in my pocket, where there's no way out." Whether they're playing it down ån' dirty or with a milk-and-cookies innocence, Elephant is a monster that needs, or rather demands, volume in dangerously large doses.
The breadth and scope of this album is sprawling and grand. From moments of chaotic punk rock ("Black Math") to Delta-inspired electric blues ("Ball and Biscuit") to sincere moments where Jack wants nothing more than to win the affection of his girlfriend's mother ("I Want To Be The Boy To Warm You Mother's Heart") to playful acoustic blues ("Well It's True That We Love One Another" in which U.K. punker Holly Golightly makes a vocal appearance along with Jack and Meg), this album finds the band at their most fully realized. It's as if the twosome worked off time-tested, traditional material and then tore it into indecipherable pieces, only to Elmer's glue it all back together to create something altogether new.
Rock 'n' roll has always been the perfect platform for guitarists, and here on Elephant, Jack's axe-work has never sounded so overwhelmingly cathartic, so menacing and so damn appealing. A near-pornographic metal attack swings from a pole on "Little Acorns," while unapologetic, rip-roaring feats of slide guitar on "Ball and Biscuit," help further distant his blues style from Jimmy Page's, which it more than slightly mirrored earlier in his career. Jack's voice - which yelps, coos, warbles, and purrs like a cat - also makes for the perfect accompaniment to his fiery guitar stylings.
While Meg turns in a sincere, earnest vocal lead on "In The Cold, Cold Night," never, since the hammering dynamics of the late John Bonham, has a drummer been so integral to a band. Although technically not the most proficient of percussionists, Meg White, nonetheless, plays with a heavy-hitting, primitive style which is highly potent and nearly impossible to avoid it's hypnotic undertow.
Ladies and gentleman, brothers and sisters, boys and girls, this IS rock and roll!