On “Hypocritical Kiss,” the standout song on Jack White’s masterpiece debut solo album, “Blunderbuss,” he asks, “And who the hell’s impressed by you?” If the question is about him, then the answer should be everyone.
Blunderbuss, released yesterday, is already a lock for album of the year. The album reflects White’s transition from the garages of Detroit to his Third Man Records in Nashville, taking his sound from previous bands The White Stripes, The Raconteurs and The Dead Weather and amping up the rock/jazz/folk/bluegrass aspects to an extreme degree. The bluesy sound is paired with equally bluesy lyrics, as the recently divorced White sings of love lost.
White’s pain is evident from the opening lyrics of “Missing Pieces”: “I was in the shower so I could not tell my nose was bleeding/Dripped down my body to the floor right below my feet/Looked in the mirror at my face/I thought I had a disease.” The disease White is afflicted with is a serious case of love-sickness. While his recent divorce from model Karen Elson was publicly amicable—the couple held a party for their friends and family celebrating the occasion—that doesn’t seem to be the case as White sings, “She don’t care what kind of wounds she’s inflicting on me/She don’t care what color bruises that she’s leaving on me” on “Freedom at 21.”
The remedy for White’s sickness is ultimately confronting love head-on. On the single “Love Interruption,” he sings, “I won’t let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me.” The success of “Blunderbuss” vindicates White; he not only overcomes his love-spawned disease but transforms it into strength and triumph.
The album succeeds as much instrumentally as it does lyrically. It has a softer sound than most of White’s previous work, thanks to the acoustic guitar, backing female vocals and piano-driven melodies, especially on “Hypocritical Kiss,” “Hip (Eponymous) Poor Boy” and the excellent titular track, “Blunderbuss.” He is mostly backed by female musicians on the album, all of whom are skilled in their own right.
Still, White is the undisputed star of his album. He especially takes center stage on “Sixteen Saltines,” the most White Stripes-esque song on the album. On “Sixteen Saltines,” White unleashes his signature guitar riffs, a la “Blue Orchid,” reaffirming his stature as one of the greatest guitarists alive. After his dalliance with the drums with The Dead Weather, it’s nice to hear Jack back where he belongs—with a guitar in his hands.
The bar is always set high with Jack White, and on his solo debut, he surpasses every expectation. The album is near perfection from start to finish. Do yourself a favor, and buy it as soon as possible–not doing so would truly put the blunder in “Blunderbuss.”
