By Eleni P. Austin
“Mind goes faster than pen, but the end is so stupid/Like bubblegum in your hair isn’t fair but it smells good.” No those aren’t Deep Thoughts from Jack Handey, they’re the lyrics from the song “Open Up” on the new Dead Weather record. The Dead Weather is yet another super-group featuring Jack White.
Jack White has been part of the Rock & Roll lexicon for nearly 20 years. First, in the Garage/Blues, brother-sister, (that turned out to be husband-wife) band, White Stripes. They lasted from 1997 until 2011. In the midst of their run, White teamed up with Power Pop vocalist Brendan Benson, along with Jack Lawrence and Patrick Keeler, the rhythm section from the Greenhornes, as the Raconteurs.
The Raconteurs recorded two wildly successful albums Broken Toy Soldiers and Consolers Of The Lonely. In 2008, as they toured with The Kills in support of the Consolers… album, bronchitis was wreaking havoc on Jack White’s vocals. Instead of cancelling dates until his voice improved, White invited Kills vocalist, Allison Mosshart, to share singing duties with him. Her presence added an undeniable frisson to the Raconteurs’ sound.
The Kills have been a going concern since Mosshart partnered with British multi-instrumentalist, Jamie Hince in 2002. The Indie-Rock duo had already recorded three critically acclaimed albums and were enjoying some downtime after the Raconteurs tour.
White was so enamored with their vocal chemistry, he wasted no time. He invited Mosshart and Waxwings/Queens Of The Stone Age keyboard player Dean Fertita, to join him and Jack Lawrence at his house in Nashville. The result was a Gothic Electro-Blues sound they christened The Dead Weather.
Jack White got back behind the drum kit for the first time since he kept time for the Detroit band, Goober &The Peas. The music came together pretty quickly, as they wrote and recorded in the studio. Dead Weather played live for the first time in March 2009, performing their single, “Hang You From The Heavens” at the official opening of White’s Third Man Records Headquarters. Their long-player debut, Horehound, arrived in July 2009, entering the Billboard Top 200 at #6.
Remarkably, 10 months later, they released their second album, Sea Of Cowards. Slightly heavier than their debut, the band drew inspiration from T.S. Eliot, (by way of Captain Beefheart) and Sonic Youth. Their sophomore effort peaked at #5 on the charts and made a lot of critics’ year-end lists.
In the ensuing five years, Jack White launched a solo career, meanwhile, the Kills and QOTSA have both toured behind new albums. So The Dead Weather’s third album, Dodge And Burn, was recorded piece meal between 2013 and 2015. It opens with the one-two punch of “I Feel Love (Every Million Miles)” and “Buzz Kill(er).”
“I Feel…” careens out the speakers, air-raid guitars screaming over a locomotive back-beat. Mosshart and the guitars enact a sultry pas de deux, a tender caress one second, a banshee wail the next. The melody shares a family resemblance to Led Zeppelin’s Valkyrie war cry, “Immigrant Song.” Until it powers down for a sludgey conclusion
On “Buzz Kill(er)” fractious, feedback-drenched riffs collide with strafing power chords. Static hi-hat fills and a triple-time tattoo ricochet through the bare-bones melody. Mosshart’s mien is defiant as she double-dog dares God let her plot her own course in life. “Got my boots and my jacket on, got my cash and my key/Got my highs and my lows and I’ll come and go as I please, Good Lord, I got no time for you, I gotta run.”
Although Allison Mosshart is the primary vocalist for The Dead Weather, she and Jack White partner up for three duets: “Three Dollar Hat,” “Rough Detective” and “Be Still.”
“Three Dollar Hat” opens tentatively with exploratory bass lines, (that might have any Hip-Hop fan mistakenly chiming in with microphone check, one-two what is this”). That is just the beginning of this song’s musical schizophrenia.
Initially propelled by one drop snare-shots, sidewinder guitar licks and synthesized bee-swarm keys, White begins narrating an apocryphal outlaw tale, tongue, firmly in cheek. “I’m that bad man named Jackie Lee, shooting everybody down with a 33.” Suddenly the tempo accelerates wildly and Mosshart takes control over search and destroy riff-age, yowling with authority. Then just as quickly, White returns providing a slow-burn denouement, even warbling a bit of the murder ballad, “Frankie And Johnnie.”
Initially, “Rough Detective” is anchored by a tick-tock beat, roiling bass lines, gritty guitar and plangent keys. Here, White and Mosshart trade hard boiled verses that wouldn’t seem out of place in a ‘40s Film Noir. As the velocity increases he gets more yelp-y and feral and she starts cawing like a Hawk honing in on its prey.
The melody of “Be Still” is tethered to an off-kilter rhythm that builds momentum and then pumps the brakes. Spooky keys and scuttling sand-crab guitar washes over lyrics that offer a cryptic sketch of a (love) hostage scenario. White and Mosshart parry and thrust and the electricity is palpable.
The best tracks here simply pulse with savage intensity. “Let Me Through” is propelled by a four-on-the floor beat, fuzz-tastic guitar and stabbing keys. The lyrics offer a distaff variation on Mac Davis’ “Baby, Baby don’t get hooked on me” warning.
“Lose The Right” is calibrated by tight, reggae-fied percussion, droning keys and scabrous guitar. Here Mosshart takes control like a bossy dominatrix, even as she bares her soul. “Listen to me when I tell you what you mean to me/ Just to clear the air, the air around you is killing me.” Over the instrumental break, keys tilt and whirl while the guitar slithers through the mix.
“Cop And Go” is fueled by a manic jackhammer rhythm, plinking keys and Punk-tastic bass lines. The guitar work is shapeshifter genius, liquid licks one minute, followed by squally shards of feedback and riffs fat with sustain.
Finally, on “Too Bad,” sludge-y riffs give way to tight, spiraling arpeggios, as drum and bass lock into a tight swinging groove. Over spitfire licks, Mosshart offers up a backhanded murder confession; “I know where the body is, I know where the branches twist/When the well is getting low, how it came to be so.”
Other interesting tracks include the skittery “Mile Marker.” As Mosshart decries a long-distance relationship, guitars spark and pinball, repeating the same cluster of notes with only slight variations. The aforementioned “Open Up” is a brittle meditation on dashed expectations.
The album concludes with “Impossible Winner.” Mosshart and company seem to be channeling Shirley Bassey, Adele and James Bond themes, all at once. Piano driven, with cello, viola and violin accents, and nary a guitar in sight, it’s an oddly conventional finish. Somewhat surprising from a band that proudly lets their freak-flag fly.
There are many thrilling moments on The Dead Weather’s third album, but as a whole, it never seems as organic, or as nuanced as previous efforts. The lyrics are best characterized as “stream of conscious,” but linear stories have never been Mosshart’s (or White’s) forte. Lyrics are rarely the focus when instrumentation and melodies are on point. At times, the album feels like a motley collection of ticks and mannerisms. Dodge And Burn is good, but it’s not great.
