Jack White is back with his best work in years; a new punk discovery.
JACK WHITE
No Name
I’m a huge White Stripes fan and I enjoyed the first two solo records from Jack White, but he and I have drifted apart in the last decade or so. I couldn’t even work up enough enthusiasm to go and see his live show in Melbourne late last year. I now regret it because somehow, in his late 40s, Jack turned back the clock to the hungry, fiery Jack White of old for this lean, raucous, bluesy garage rock record. It sounds more like White Stripes than anything else he’s done since their last album, and the drumming often brings back the memories of Meg White’s primal minimalist playing (though no one else can replicate the unique, childlike innocence she brought to the White Stripes sound).
An old school, back-to-basics album like this can be a risky proposition when it openly invites comparisons with your old stuff, but No Name is just that thrilling and consistent, with not a single filler track. I really didn’t expect to reconnect with Jack White this late in his career, and it’s gratifying to see him back doing what he does best: great storytelling and raw shredding.
MANNEQUIN PUSSY
I Got Heaven
Earlier this year, I did my usual thing and listened to a bunch of 2024 releases from the various Best Of lists. It didn’t yield many records I wanted to explore further, but one big exception was this punk band from Philadelphia, who made me think of Live Through This-era Hole and feminist 90s bands like Bikini Kill. Singer Marisa Dabice truly got me by the throat with the opening track, where she barks and howls like a woman possessed against the crunching guitars: I went and walked myself / Like a dog without a leash / Now I’m growling at a stranger / I am biting at their knees. This is one of the strongest album openers I’ve heard in quite some time.
I Got Heaven is the band’s fourth album, and here they sound like a maturing outfit willing to be adventurous. There are a few short, sharp hardcore thrashers in the back half of the album that I’d be guessing are closer to their noisy punk roots. Overall though it’s a dynamic and diverse record, at times switching from dreamy and melodic to savage and aggressive within the space of the same song. Likewise, Dabice’s vocals can flip from airy and cooing to a banshee from hell, most effectively on tracks like Loud Bark where she chants, I got a loud bark, deep bite with increasing ferocity. She has a way with some provocative lyrics as well, which I guess is what you’d expect from a band named Mannequin Pussy.
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