Monday, February 14, 2011

Closing the Door to the Little Room Once and For All

My favourite band of the past nine years the White Stripes officially broke up twelve days ago. I don’t lament their decision one bit, and here’s why:

Reflecting upon the White Stripes’ career, they could not have picked a more appropriate time to lock up the Little Room [the White Stripes’ conceptual, restrictive workspace] once and for all. I can’t say for sure how they’ve impacted music over the past thirteen years, but I sure as hell can say they’ve done a lot of cool things over those thirteen years: Jack achieved his dream of writing and performing a James Bond theme (the first duet in the franchise’s history); the band wrote and performed a Coca-Cola jingle; and the band won the praises of and even collaborated with several of their musical heroes including Bob Dylan, Jimmy Page, Iggy Pop, Loretta Lynn, Wanda Jackson and the Rolling Stones. Jack even performed in front of President Obama at a White House-hosted tribute to Paul McCartney with the Beatle himself in attendance.

The White Stripes were even noteworthy for Jack’s and Meg’s personal lives, beyond early speculation over whether Jack and Meg were siblings or a married or divorced couple. Jack gained Hollywood’s attention not only for his roles in the films Cold Mountain and Walk Hard but for his brief relationship with Renée Zellweger and his work on the former film’s soundtrack as well; Jack, in very typical rock ’n’ roll fashion, married a supermodel; meanwhile, Meg married into punk rock royalty in Jack’s backyard (to Jackson Smith, son of the “Godmother of Punk” Patti Smith and the MC5’s Fred “Sonic” Smith). The band survived fist-fights and ensuing anger management courses (Jack’s highly-publicized 2003 altercation with Von Bondies-front-man Jason Stollsteimer brought the Von Bondies a whirl of media attention for their second album Pawn Shoppe Heart); lawsuits over production credits and samples, including a clash against Warner Bros. over the band’s use of direct quotes from Citizen Kane on the song “The Union Forever”; and a sex-tape scandal (which turned out to have merely featured a Meg White look-alike). More positively, the band also became best friends with Conan O’Brien, played the first and last episodes of most of his shows and, in the process, possibly became Conan’s most frequent musical guests. Jack even produced a live LP and 7” single which he released through his label Third Man Records for Conan during Conan’s time off of television.

Finally, when speaking of awesome things the White Stripes have done, one cannot forget the band’s extensive 2007 Canadian tour which included shows in every province and territory, completely spontaneous secret shows along almost every stop (which led fans on wild online and real-world goose-chases) and the shortest concert ever (in Newfoundland, during which Meg paired Jack’s C-sharp with a single, simultaneous crash of her cymbal). And who, especially if they’re Nova Scotian, can forget the most significant event during the White Stripes’ cross-Canada tour? I’m referring to, of course, the White Stripes having celebrated their tenth anniversary with a blockbuster show/family reunion at the Savoy Theatre in Glace fucking Bay, one day after Jack visited his grandfather‘s grave in my hometown Antigonish.

Even though the White Stripes’ final tour was cut short due to Meg’s anxiety issues, and the band was rather inactive during its final three-and-a-half years, the White Stripes left on at least a few high-notes: despite having pushed their minimalist aesthetic to the breaking point (literally, as they gradually incorporated marimbas, mandolins, bagpipes and brass instruments), their last album Icky Thump was on par with the rest of their previous work. Then, just this past spring, they released Under Great White Northern Lights, a monolithic box-set that focused on their Canadian tour. Now that the White Stripes have broken up, this box-set has become the perfect retrospective piece, especially since it contains Under Nova Scotian Lights, a DVD of their entire tenth anniversary show. What better time, then, for the White Stripes to call it quits than after their tenth anniversary, which was also one of their final shows, even though they were still a band for three more years?

I think it’s honourable of the White Stripes to have quietly bowed out rather than to have embarked upon a huge, blow-out finale. Furthermore, I think it’s admirable of them to have wanted to “preserve what is beautiful and special about the band” instead of cheapening their art by continuing far past their prime and becoming a nostalgia act the way so many bands do. I’d rather the White Stripes break up than spiral towards uninspired mediocrity or, worst of all, repeat themselves. Lastly, if the White Stripes ever decide to create new music, I will be more surprised than if I’d been living in anticipation of new music by them for who-knows-how-long.

Despite everything the White Stripes have done, their greatest accomplishment has not been winning some award or readers- or critics-poll: it was opening up me and millions of other people like me to worlds of music we may never have paid attention to otherwise. I listen to a wide range of music, but my first answers when people ask me “What do you listen to?” are always blues, country and garage rock. I owe my responses entirely to the White Stripes. The White Stripes have opened me up to everything from blues legends (Leadbelly, Blind Willie McTell, Blind Willie Johnson, Charley Jordan, Son House, Lightnin’ Hopkins) to obscure, fossilized nuggets from garage rock history (the Sonics, the Monks, the Kingsmen, the Wailers) to even lesser-known, more contemporary garage rock bands (the Go, Two-Star Tabernacle, Flat Duo Jets, the Dirtbombs). The White Stripes have also opened me up to blues-inspired cow-punk (Goober & the Peas), punkabilly (the Gun Club) and just plain punk (the Stooges). I likely would not have even batted an eye at well-known classics, especially since many of them were country (Hank Williams, the coal-miner’s daughter Loretta Lynn) and soft-rock/pop icons (the Carpenters, Burt Bacharach and Hal David).

Furthermore, having given me an appreciation for the blues, country music and garage rock, the White Stripes have profoundly impacted my entire artistic tastes and philosophies: the White Stripes taught me to see and hear beauty in simplicity and raw energy; they taught me that art does not need to be calculated or refined in order to be beautiful because certain beauties exists in flaws and mistakes - nuances unobtainable through fine-tuning, endless revisions and working within one’s comfort zones. Most importantly, the White Stripes have taught me that there will always be value in art that is not “new” or experimental.

What always impressed me about the White Stripes was their ability to achieve their level of popularity and respect by adhering (for the most part) to their minimalist aesthetic, especially since they could easily have been pigeon-holed as a one-hit wonder - “that band with the Lego video” - or colour-coded gimmick. They inspire me to know that a straight-up rock ’n’ roll band can still become one of the most popular and respected musical acts today in both mainstream and alternative circles. I’m always going to thank the White Stripes before I thank anyone else for saving me from mainstream hip-hop, Dave Matthews Band and nü-metal in eighth grade - for opening up a new generation of listeners (myself included) to some of the greatest, most enduring music I have ever heard. To that extent - for having introduced me to the music I love and having shaped my general artistic philosophy - I feel that the White Stripes’ job is done. Perhaps the “band in the box,” which had already began to itch at the box’s edges, had nothing left to give me or any of its other fans except the band itself. The White Stripes have had such a classic, storied career that the time was simply right. That is why I am not sad to see the White Stripes finally step out from under the great white northern lights.