After previewing an upcoming show in my last column as a rock and roll event not to be missed, and I noticed that all the other papers lauded the event similarly, I was completely bummed out to learn that Riverside, California’s bright new band on the verge of ruling the world, The Bellrays had cancelled all their upcoming shows including last Saturday at Bottom of The Hill because the drummer Ray had suddenly quit the band. I was planning on attending with my two evil Canadian friends who were the ones that turned me on to the Bellrays after seeing them open for Destroy All Monsters at the Paradise a while back. They were so impressed by their set they purchased their hard-to-find CD Let It Blast, a crudely recorded 17 song affair laid down live with no overdubs in a 15×15 foot practice space. The caustic duo then lent the disc to me and in no time the cut “Good Behavior” became a staple in my DJ sets. Any song with the opening line, “Your Momma’s in jail,” is just gonna be a staple, as well as the song “Killer Man” with it’s opening line “Killer Man take a ride in my car,” and it’s repeated chorus of “Killer man I am your temple.” sung with all the fervor of a gospel hymn—from the other side of the river Euphrates, backed by a band that crunches furiously like the best of Detroit’s garage-y Stooge-ish nasty rock and rollers, but with a little more R&B and soul influences. You can understand why we were so disappointed to hear of their cancellation. Even worse was the fact that an original member had left the band. What would this mean to the Bellrays? And right as they are about to break big.
Subsequently I saw my friend Lance from Texas, a former Hole in The Wall DJ currently working a dream job within the music industry who knows more about so much great music I’ve never heard of that it’s almost not right, and he told me that The Bellrays aren’t going to pack it all in over this, thank heaven, and are definitely in the market for a new drummer and he actually knows someone who is auditioning for them. So, I’m pleased to say the departure of their original drummer will not spell the end of a band that’s destined for greatness and high regard. I look forward to another chance to see them in the near future.
Speaking of Lance, he has turned me on to more incredible music over the last year than any one particular source and I’m forever grateful for his recommendations. One of his more recent tips was a band he told me about called The White Stripes. I looked all over the place for this disc on the Sympathy For The Record Industry label, a great label that’s been around for about ten years and recently released a compilation called Alright This Time Just The Girls featuring many of their finest mostly female acts over the past decade. I picked up that two CD set while in search of The White Stripes and boy what a package it is! There are a total of 48 different acts featured, some as familiar as the Muffs, Hole, The Geraldine Fibbers, April March, and Thee Headcoatees to a smattering of short-lived even one time only acts like The Trip (who score with the best cut of the set, “Help Me”), the Grown-ups, Candypants, Electrocutes, and other underground sensations like The Detroit Cobras, Free Kitten, Buck, The RedAunts, and more. The best thing about this compilation is the simple fact that it has prompted me to seek out many of the artists featured for more of their recorded efforts. With some acts the search is difficult, for instance The Detroit Cobras are a great gritty R&B/soul outfit who cover very interesting and obscure Detroit-based 60’s garage band songs and are now defunct. I gathered information on them by running a few searches on the internet, leading me to a great site from of all places The Netherlands called Grunnen Rocks (http://www.grunnenrocks.nl/hoofd.html) a band and label list compiled meticulously with the simple motto, “Have fun listening to good music,” that is so detailed and linked to other sources it’s shocking. It was here that I learned some more background on the White Stripes, whose debut CD I finally found at the Virgin Superstore, a place that kind of drives me mad to shop in but in some cases it’s the only place I can find certain things. Plus I always get a kick out of the listening stations there, lining the walls and scattered on posts throughout the store because quite frequently an excited and oblivious person will break into song while listening on the headphones—especially in the rap section. It’s like a personal karioke bar in their own heads or something. It was especially beautiful listening to this drunken homeless person sing along to Holes Celebrity Skin, air guitar included.
Now, about The White Stripes. They are a brother and sister duo by the names Jack and Meg White and they’re from Detroit. The picture on the cover of the CD has them dressed in red and white only and to be honest they look like they are about 12 years old, a bit skinny and awkward yet undeniably hip, especially the girl with her kinder-whore little girls dress on and a white feather boa. The CD itself is made to look like a large red and white striped peppermint candy, like from Brach’s. Judging so far from the package you might anticipate some sugary sweet Archies-type precious pop novelty group but what you get is far from that, worlds away in fact.
It’s hard for me to believe the sounds that come from these two young people and equally hard to explain what I find so appealing, even mesmerizing about this record, and why it ranks high on my top ten list of best records I’ve heard all year. Much of its appeal must have something to do with the overall pared down minimalist bent of the instrumentation—just guitar and drums with occasional tambourine and maybe some tapping on bottles as well. This as well as the heavy levels of reverb and distortion applied in recording makes for a large and gritty and rough sounding disc, thick with atmosphere like a sweaty, sweltering, smoky, nicotine-stained, dusty roadhouse. Along with this sort of southern bluesy feel comes a sort of regional rock and roll grind and unhinged over-the-top angst indigenous to Detroit and it’s rich history of influential rockers. Vocalist/guitarist Jack White also has an impressive history in music himself, running Italy Records, a very small label that has put out a series of mainly seven-inch singles by bands like The Hentchmen, Rocket 455, The Dirtys and of course The White Stripes. He was also in a band called Two Star Tabernacle who did one single with Andre Williams. This disc is co-produced by Jack Diamond who produced Andre Williams’ great LP Silky.
Jack White’s vocals are also a treat, singing in a higher nasal register that brings to mind the vocals on The Meat Puppets first couple records, maybe even a touch of Gordon Gano of The Violent Femmes, and even a young Bob Dylan, covering Dylan’s “One More Cup Of Coffee” on the disc. Another great cover they do is “St. James Infirmary.” But the original songs on this debut disc are the heart of the matter with The White Stripes, ranging lyrically from blues simplistic to folk wordiness and most of the songs clocking in at just two minutes long. Each song is like a fresh sonic blast of something old or fundamental and stripped down yet imbued with something about the present, some mystery quality that is contemporary yet focussed on a tremendous respect or fascination for musical history, a retro rapture that won’t be bothered by accusations of breaking no new ground because this music knows it’s soul is old. It’s an irresistible sound. Buy The White Stripes.