An ode to you, Jack and Meg

I thought I would let the dust settle after the White Stripes’ recent decision to call it a day. They have however been effectively broken up for the past two years and Jack will undoubtedly keep releasing White Stripes material, but seeing as how this is a “goodbye” I thought of ways to pay homage to one of the most important rock and roll bands of the past 15 years.

The White Stripes weren’t to everyone’s taste, and I loved that about them. They divided music lover and appreciators with their minimal sound and “the greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. And like that, poof. He's gone.” The White Stripes manufactured an entire persona and look to compliment the band while detracting from the fact that all they wanted to do was write a song as good as Son House's "Grinnin' in your face."

That is how I see the White Stripes, they were retrospective, but they looked at so many things that I love, I couldn’t have hated them. Even if I tried. That is why I thought I would say farewell to the duo from Detroit by using Jack’s own words, mine just aren’t good enough to do their influence on me justice…

“Words that are spoke alone

Phrases you will never hear,

Read it in the newspaper

Ask your girlfriends and see if they know,

You probably won't get what I'm going to do

I'm walkin' away from you

It probably don't make much sense to you

But I'm trying to save you

From all of the things that I'll probably say or do

And right now you could care less about me

But soon enough you will care by the time I’m done

I’m getting lazy

throw me a bone

Is there a way to find the cure for this

Implanted in a pill?

Is it just the name upon the bottle

That determines if it will?

No harm will come of this

one little midnight kiss,

It will not burn

so many lonely days,

I feel like a throw away

well, now it's my turn.

I got a funny feeling

that it's gonna work out,

A mirage, this garage

And a photo montage

And a finger massage from the host

Good lord, good lord

The one I adore

And I cannot afford is a ghost

Is a ghost

Blink, blink at me Rita

Don't you know I'm a bleeder?

And I promised I wouldn't lead her on

But she met me, then led me

And I ate what was fed me

'Til I purged every word in this song. “

And we're glad you got to purge your angst into a fistful of bluesy rock and roll Mr White. So that is my ode to Jack and Meg, but fear not Jack fiends, he’ll never stop producing music. We’ll still get our fix and if the last Raconteurs album, Consolers of the Lonely, is anything to judge his future outputs by, then bring it on. He is, after all, pretty good looking, for a girl.

Rick
Over.