Guided by the energy of his current live shows, the American musician in his fifties lets his guitars roar on “Frozen Charlotte,” his seventh solo album.
The energy of one of Jack White’s new tracks, She’s in a Frenzy, could just as well describe the man himself—frenzied and unleashed across his seventh solo record. Those who were lucky enough to catch him on stage in June, at his two nights at the Olympia or during the Nuits de Fourvière, will find here the thunderous vitality that electrifies his ongoing tour, along with the same cadre of seasoned players: the eclectic Dominic Davis on bass, the nuanced Bobby Emmett on keyboards, and the explosive Patrick Keeler of the Raconteurs on drums.
No room for the folk tenderness that the former White Stripes might display in the studio, capable of signing moving ballads as well as devastating scorchers. The American has clearly chosen the latter path for this record of metallurgical power, struck by the lightning of a thousand crackling bursts. He willingly borrows the structures of the original blues (notably on the aptly titled Neighbors Blues, a postlude with a hypnotic rhythm) and the hurricane-like riffs of seventies rock (including the feverish Thick as Thieves). From the outset of the album, G.O.D. and the Broken Ribs and Derecho Demonico, the two singles released in April, set the tone for this rock offensive that does not clutter itself with overly elaborate pyrotechnics—a pitfall that has weighed down some Jack White tracks in the past.
Jack White, Deliberately Mysterious
That, in fact, seems to be the balance the American has truly found, between savagery and sonic control. Attentive to the finest details, Jack White constrains a portion of his craft by banning cell phones at his concerts and by refusing all interviews (he settles for posting a few statements on his social networks). From his Nashville lair, he undertook the task of composing and producing these thirteen new songs that appear on his own label.
Thus, it is hard to tell what he meant in his lyrics and what inspired him this time, or in what mindset and context he shaped this album—our only recourse is to read in the tabloids that his wife Olivia Jean, who can be heard on bass on the flamboyant I Can’t Believe What I’m Hearing, recently filed for divorce. Deliberately enigmatic like his dear Bob Dylan before him, the songwriter and prodigious guitarist externalizes through his music his insurrectionary impulses (Raising the Grain and its harangues straight from a protest) and, with his thunderous electric vigor, he launches an assault without regard to consequences. It is said that one is never better served than by oneself, and Jack White knows this: as he blows out his 51st birthday candles, he treats himself to with Frozen Charlotte an explosive birthday gift.
Frozen Charlotte (Third Man Records/Modulor). Release on July 10.
