Since Lazaretto, White has been sealed inside a bubble of studio tinkering and experimentation, while scolding anyone who’ll listen about things like cell phones and record-pressing plants.
His sixth album arrived on July 19 in the shopping bags of Third Man customers. The white vinyl was unmarked apart from “No Name” stamped onto the record’s label—similar to the austerity of The Beatles’ White Album. Third Man Records released the album widely on August 2.
White’s last three solo albums are lessons in that just because you can doesn’t mean you should. The efforts recall some of Prince’s more bewildering choices. But none of that matters now. No Name is White’s best solo album and it’s not even close. Tempting blasphemy, it’s equal to his work with The White Stripes.
No Name is a reminder of why White is one of his generation’s most important rock musicians. There isn’t a weak song on the album and the list below highlights four key tracks from White’s return from a creative wilderness.
“It’s Rough on Rats (If You’re Asking)”
White’s empathy blues track opens with blissful arpeggios. Then drummer Patrick Keeler (The Raconteurs, The Greenhornes) bashes through a Meg White-caliber groove, but the nod to White’s duo is short. Keeler’s turn to a swinging tom-tom beat supports White singing about the have-nots. Dominic Davis’ bass is mixed low, giving the track a White Stripes by way of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion feel. White thrashes a screeching guitar solo, creating a time-lapse archive of pre-war blues to 21st-century Detroit.
“Old Scratch Blues”
“Old Scratch Blues” opens the album with an AC/DC-ish guitar lick. It’s immediately attention-grabbing—an announcement of White’s comeback. On his recent solo albums, a great riff might vanish into a patchwork of glitchy studio edits and technical weeds. But “Old Scratch Blues” is primal. And White has the superhuman ability to make familiar punk and blues seem novel. He prefers old recording methods, yet this sounds thoroughly modern. It’s evidence that the Jack White-has-lost-his-way narrative is wrong. He tinkered like a mad scientist, but he stayed fully in control. You can’t have the beauty without the beast. “Old Scratch Blues” is both.
“That’s How I’m Feeling”
Three is an important number to White—Third Man Records; Jack White III; The White Stripes’ guitar, drums, voice, and accompanying theme of red, white, and black. Nothing he does is by accident and it’s probably not an accident for the track placement of “That’s How I’m Feeling.” White’s quiet LOUD quiet LOUD banger opens with the kind of Factory Records bass groove Tony Wilson would’ve hyped. He sings abstractly about cold weather and loneliness. Then White kicks out the jams. His Midwest band is explosive and the only hook needed is: Oh, oh yeah. The guitar solo arrives before the second verse. It’s dryly exposed, which is rare for him. His guitar solos tend to include synth-like Whammy and fuzz effects but the exposed notes showcase for the blues revivalists of his time, no one is in White’s league.
“Archbishop Harold Holmes”
The album’s best track features White sermonizing in a faux preacher’s yowl. It doesn’t really matter what the song’s about, or what message he’s trying to deliver, White’s a true believer in whatever homily he’s attempting here. The blistering riff recalls “Icky Thump” and White sometimes sounds like Zack de la Rocha. And like de la Rocha, regardless of whether or not you’re a Noam Chomsky scholar, the riffs are so great, the groove so groovy, and the delivery so impassioned, that you’ll find yourself raging against any machine put in front of you. Kyrie Eleison.
