JACK WHITE - NO NAME
Ever since the release of Jack White's debut solo LP, 2012's Blunderbuss, the question has loomed large of what a White solo record could or should sound like. Unfortunately for many longtime followers of White's work, the majority of his solo discography has been plagued by compromises and a lack of singular artistic vision, something that was never an issue in his previous bands. On both Blunderbuss and Lazaretto, the end results sounded equal parts country, folk, and rock, yet never committed enough to any one of those styles to make a true genre-defying artistic statement. 2018's Boarding House Reach represented a hard left turn, marrying synthesizers, spoken-word beat poetry, rap, and jazz to create an album that was significantly more artistically interesting, but a far cry from the guitar-driven garage rock that has endeared White to the majority of his fan base. The one-two punch of 2022's Fear of the Dawn and Entering Heaven Alive was the first hint that the artistic genius behind The White Stripes was still in control of his own musical narrative, very wisely separating his acoustic and electric material across two distinct yet related sibling records (as opposed to ex-spouses!)
And this brings us to White's most recent LP, No Name. Arguably the most legitimately "Garage Rock" record of his career since the 1999's The White Stripes, White has very wisely stripped everything back to basics, an old tried-and-true formula that brought him initial success at the turn of the century. Fittingly, the album opens with "Old Scratch Blues," which despite its somewhat uninspired title, is an apt description of the three-and-a-half minute blues-rocker contained within. As if to atone for musical sins of the past, religious metaphors permeate throughout many of the album's thirteen songs -- "Bless Yourself," "Archbishop Harold Holmes," and "Missionary," a song about sex and rock 'n' roll missionary work in equal measure.
Musically, the majority of the performances captured on No Name have been created by the power trio of White on guitar/vocals, Dominic Davis on bass, and Patrick Keeler of Raconteurs and Afghan Whigs fame on drums. Guest players include current wife Olivia Jean, daughter Scarlett White, Whirlwind Heat's David Swanson, Autolux's Carla Azar, as well as longtime collaborators Daru Jones and Quincy McCrary. The only song that in any way represents musical excess is lead single "That's What I'm Feeling," which features no less than two drummers, two bass players, and a synthesizer player in addition to White's guitar and vocals. Having said that, it nonetheless made Barack Obama's best of 2024 playlist and got White back on Top 40 radio for the first time in well over a decade. Indeed, sometimes more is more!
It cannot be understated that No Name represents in many respects the album that longtime fans would have liked to hear from White decades ago. For better or worse, since 2005's Get Behind Me Satan, White has been experimenting in the name of his own muse, often with mixed results and at the expense of the obvious path to critical and commercial success. However, somehow No Name sounds infinitely more satisfying following on the heels of five questionable solo albums. Had this album immediately followed 2007's Icky Thump, it would likely have been received as equal parts banal and uninspired. Indeed, it's been a long and winding road home to arrive at No Name.
The album closes with the majestic "Terminal Archenemy Endling" (try saying that three times fast!), which opens with the sound of White playing to puppies, perhaps at Nashville's local pound. Over the course of four minutes, Keeler and White bash out a mini Zeppelin epic that speaks directly to White coming home -- "When I hear your call, it feels like coming home... like I'm ten feet tall." While it's impossible to predict which way the muse will steer White next, the anonymity that No Name has afforded him will serve very well in whatever comes next in the canon of Jack White.
-Leks Maltby