Weekly Download Vol. V No. 20

Would You Fight For My Love/High Ball Stepper by Jack White

Hello friends. It’s been a bit.

I’ve called him the dragon. He’s been referred to as rock’s Dr. Seuss and as rock’s Willy Wonka. He thinks he may be the last true rock star (N.B. and he may be right), but I’ve learned during the media blitz surrounding his sumptuous new album Lazaretto, is that Jack Gillis, III might be a cranky dick.

He’s said a few things in some interviews that are less than nice, or maybe just intentionally cranky and that he went on a subsequent apology tour for. Link if you’re interested in the full tale. But it’s not that interesting.

He made some valid points about the ebb and flow of popular music and the ways “credit” is both nebulous and never dispensed via meritocracy. And he sounded like a cranky dick doing it.

He called ubiquitous cell phones “fucking texting things” preventing people from clapping at his concerts and generally interacting with each other, and he’s right. And he sounded like a cranky dick doing it.

But what has alarmed me is that I can’t make myself care about any of his cranked up dickishness because I love his music so much.

I had a realization about JGIII and WD. He of virtually limitless musical aptitude and WD of none. The revelation is that our ears for music are freakishly the same.

If JGIII conceives a song in his venerated kaleidoscope of a head and creates it harnessing his opulent and breathtaking musical aplomb, then almost without fail (N.B. Maybe completely without fail) said song will resonate pleasingly in WD’s ADD riddled bramble bush of a head and fall victim to his impassioned amusia.

And this isn’t limited to the hits, (N.B. Like Would You Fight For My Love should surely be, and when coupled with Lazaretto’s instrumental track, High Ball Stepper (N.B. Which you’ve already heard if you’ve watched literally any of the World Cup on ESPN this summer) constitute the emotional core of JGIII’s more-frustrated-with-women-than-normal 11-song opus) but stretches to songs that I suspect even Jack would consider minor.

I’m not sure what, if anything, this means.

I hope it doesn’t mean I’m a cranky dick.


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