When the Dead Weather released “Die by the Drop” and “Old Mary” together as the first single from their then-unreleased second album
Sea of Cowards, I'd read criticisms that Jack White had started to run out of ideas. I’d read pleads –
demands, even – for Jack to ditch the “nü metal bullshit” that was the Dead Weather and, more specifically, “Die By the Drop” and return to the blues-inspired garage rock and pop melodies that made him famous in the White Stripes. I would love nothing more than for Jack to re-commit to the White Stripes full-time, and admittedly, “Die By the Drop” is a little histrionic (especially Jack’s vocals and the song’s ogreish riff), but regardless, I still quite dig the song.
That said, my confidence in Jack has been shaken in other ways. I won't discuss them all here, but most topically, in interviews prior to
Sea of Cowards’ release, Jack marveled at the Dead Weather for having created an album that was heavier and bluesier than he ever imagined the band could have been. I would have thought that Jack, however, of all people – so in tune with the blues and whose entire career has been built on the blues – would have known that hard rock and the blues are incidental, not correlative.
I didn’t agree at all with the above-mentioned criticism that Jack was losing his creative mind until I heard the first track from Sea of Cowards “Blue Blood Blues.” The track opens with distorted guitars followed by equally distorted dual vocals by Jack and Kills-singer Alison "VV"Mosshart. Although I’m always particularly interested in hearing how Jack’s singing changes on each record, for the first time ever, on “Blue Blood Blues,” Jack’s vocals just come off as cheesy and lame. The same can be said about everything from the song’s dated keyboard effects to its tacky background “oohs."
Thankfully, “Blue Blood Blues” seamlessly transitions into the more palatable “Hustle and Cuss.” Opening with a cool, unhurried bass line by “Little” Jack Lawrence, which, along with sensible flourishes of keys by Dean Fertita, tempers the song’s riff, “Hustle and Cuss” is perhaps the most traditional song on the album.
The control and good pace heard on “Hustle and Cuss” is short-lived, however, disappearing in favour of an instrumental breakdown on “The Difference between Us” which, while less spastic than on “Blue Blood Blues,” still sounds too busy and unfocused.
Following another seamless transition is the cacophonous and amusingly titled “I’m Mad,” possibly the most self-indulgent moment/mess on the album. As Alison laughs and repeats the lyrics “I’m mad”; as Dean jams on the keyboards; and as the rest of the band joins in on the clamour, I begin to wonder how long the band took to write this song or this album in general. For the first (but not the last) time, with “I’m Mad,”
Sea of Cowards crosses into vapid obnoxiousness.
The volume and aggression continue on the next track “Die by the Drop” after which the band
finally slows down on “I Can’t Hear You.” Consider “I Can’t Hear You” “Hang You from the Heavens, Pt. 2,” only whereas Alison sounded genuinely threatening on “Heavens” – frustrated at unreciprocated love and pissed off – here, despite her snarling gusto, she is seemingly defanged and milked of her venom for good measure.
Despite these several plodding, over-fired moments,
Sea of Cowards does have its bright moments besides “Hustle and Cuss” and “Die by the Drop” (or at least moments that have a lot of potential). “Gasoline” is great if only for its keyboard lines. Its rapid, single-note key line lays the foundation for many cool potential interludes; however, premature guitar solos spoil that potential by entering only a minute into the two-minute, forty-five-second song. The White-led “Looking at the Invisible Man” might be a decent track, if it was slowed down to a “Blue Veins”-like, oil-lamp crooner and if his vocals were not completely effaced by guitar-and key-effects and if the track was not marred by a squealing, incongruous quagmire of instrument jams. “Jawbreaker” probably has the coolest, most forceful opening on the album before launching into an electronic, partially staccato gallop.
Finally, following "Jawbreaker" is album-closer “Old Mary." Here, Jack’s vocals are distorted but this time in a constructive way. A ringing background buzzer that seems to inform listeners of “technical difficulties” adds to the sense that Jack’s vocals were sung through a radio or telephone receiver. A creepy piano line, quick blasts of screeching, grinding-gear guitars, a clacking of drumsticks, sound bytes of giggling children and a transition from piano to organ make “Old Mary” one of the Dead Weather’s most unique and interesting tracks. “Old Mary” is also one of
Sea of Cowards’ best-paced, best built-up songs and concludes with an instrumental break-down that, for once on this album, does not sound self-indulgent. Despite the uniqueness and quality of “Old Mary,” however, the song does not come across as a
great closer; it really feels more like a mid-album tune-up. But with it, the Dead Weather ends
Sea of Cowards on their strongest possible note.
Sea of Cowards features more keys, more effects and more distortion than its 2009 predecessor
Horehound, but rarely do any of those elements feel necessary. Rather, the endless solos and jams feel as though they have been plastered all over the album for the sake of seeing how quickly and loudly the band could play. Often, this endeavour comes at the expense of being unable to hear Jack's or Alison’s voices with any clarity. The Dead Weather relentlessly bludgeons listeners with heavy song after heavy song, taking no time to develop any of their songs. Songs don’t have to be slow in order to exhibit good craftsmanship, but absent on
Cowards are the “60 Feet Tall”s, “I Cut Like a Buffalo”s and “Will There Be Enough Water”s, that is, songs with
soul. In order to create truly monumental heavy-hitters, the band would have benefited not necessarily from slowing down their songs but definitely from giving its songs more room to maneuver so that their harmonies, solos and instrumental build-ups and breakdowns feel relevant.
Jack is known for his speedy creation of records, but never until now have any of them sounded rushed. What has ultimately resulted as
Sea of Cowards is an album that is too busy, too unfocused, poorly paced and manages to be a colossal, albeit (at only thirty-six minutes long) compact, mess. I get that anger, aggression, attitude, dark themes, dark hair and dark clothing are the Dead Weather’s M.O., but I never imagined that the band’s musical or visual style would have become so one-dimensional and so boring so quickly.
Sea of Cowards’ biggest problem is that it lacks any sort of restraint; nothing holds together the individual members’ parts which results in a lack of focus and direction.
I always respect and admire Jack's work-within-the-box philosophy, but I respect and admire his efforts to push his self-imposed restrictions as far as possible even more, even if, such as in the case of
Sea of Cowards, he pushes himself into territories I don’t particularly like. That respect and admiration notwithstanding, I really hope "lack of cohesion" within the band in a more general sense will be the exact factor that allows Jack to take his attention off of the Dead Weather and re-invest his creative energies in the White Stripes full-time sooner rather than later.
Scottish twee-pop-pioneers the Vaselines return with their second album Sex with an X, their first album since 1990's Dum Dum. Due September 14 via Sub Pop Records, Sex with an X is streaming in full for two more days at the Guardian.co.uk.
