There is evidence now that seems to confirm that Jack White is
from another planet. It’s not just about his appearance
anymore. (White has put off many with his ghost-white complexion
and untamed, wiry black locks ““ think Edward
Scissorhands.)
At one point during the White Stripes concert on Aug. 18 at the
Greek Theatre, the singer/guitarist almost magically appeared on
stage with a one-foot-tall doll dressed in a black suit like his
and proceeded to walk it by its arms across the stage. He then
carried the doll back behind his amps, hugging it while Meg White
laughed from behind her drum set. Jack White also wore a mariachi
outfit that night.
The White Stripes really know how to put on a show, but it goes
far beyond mere antics, on-stage or off. They once were married but
now claim to be siblings and dress strictly in black, red and white
(even their roadies follow the dress code).
They’ve gained a royal reputation for being one of modern
rock’s greatest live acts, in part because of the strong
duality between their electric ferocity and acoustic balladry.
That reputation has grown so much that they were able to sell
more than 20,000 tickets during their four-night stand at the Greek
two weeks ago.
During their final night at the Greek on Aug. 18, after a
likeable but easily forgettable opening performance by Roots rocker
M. Ward, the Detroit duo unleashed some punk fury. The duo raced
through 33 songs, 11 of which they played during their
get-your-money’s-worth encore.
Songs were sped up to warp speed and lyrics consequently became
indecipherable as Jack White screamed desperately like Robert
Plant, laughed demonically like Sid Vicious, and yodeled fearlessly
into the microphone.
The marimba piece “The Nurse,” which in the
beginning is reminiscent of the “Rugrats” cartoon theme
song, sounded like some evil clown playhouse tune after Jack White
went berserk with a distortion pedal.
Remember when The Beatles shocked America with their long hair?
Jack White is testament to how far the rock ‘n’ roll
shock factor has come.
But there were also gentler parts of the performance, when Jack
White didn’t pummel the audience with a messy barrage of
ultra-distorted fuzz guitar, and when his lyrics felt less overtly
theatrical and more genuine. One such moment was during the
acoustic guitar ballad “You’ve Got Her in Your
Pocket,” which he sang in a weak, quivering voice.
That’s the charisma of Jack White’s stage persona.
He carries not only the swagger of Mick Jagger, but also a
mamma’s boy charm.
This duality is most evident in the song “Ball and
Biscuit,” where he sings with machismo, “Read it in the
newspaper / Ask your girlfriends and see if they know / That my
strength is 10-fold, woman / And I’ll let you see if you want
to before you go,” but also sings sweetly, “Let’s
have a ball and a biscuit, sugar / And take our sweet little time
about it.”
He’s not only a cocky bluesman and a raucous punk rocker,
he’s also a man of God who sings about his mother, and at one
point about loving his woman back home in “I’m Lonely
(But I Ain’t that Lonely Yet).” In his performance, he
sang, “She’s homely, and clingy, and her hair’s
in a net,” which garnered a hearty laugh from the
audience.
The crowd couldn’t help falling in love with Jack,
especially at the end of the show when he graciously thanked the
audience. “My sister and I have been here 16 days and the
whole town has been so nice to us, and we want to thank you,”
he said.
He maybe the scariest, dirtiest garage rocker out there, but
you’ve got to admit, there’s also a lot of down-home
charm in that Jack White character.