A little goes a long way with White Stripes, the Detroit duo whose amalgam of country blues, Beatle-esque pop, and punk snarl would be remarkable even if it didn’t originate from the most rudimentary of stagings. A week ago Wednesday at the sold-out Roxy, Jack White, wearing his trademark red T-shirt with hair in a Muppet-like frazzle, allowed himself only a keyboard, two microphones (one laced with echo, the other clean), and an electric guitar; on drums, Meg White walloped patterns so simple that she often didn’t bother with the cymbals.
There have been plenty of blues-punk outfits in the past decade, and in the years since Jon Spencer proved you could do without bass, there’s been a fair share of blues-derived guitar-drums duos. In a different time, a songwriter as gifted as Jack White might have chosen a band, possibly a very big one. But suddenly garage-punk — like grunge in ’91 and SoCal pop punk in ’94 — is the in thing for in people. The format offers a sonic vocabulary that hasn’t yet been exploited by mainstream overuse, a ready-made underground fan base with low expectations, and the promise of pre-stamped artistic integrity.
White Stripes’ last two albums, De Stijl and White Blood Cells (both on Sympathy for the Record Industry; the latter was recently picked up by V2), transcended garage punk’s emblematic primitiveness with classic-rock bombast, sterling pop craftsmanship, and bold lyrics. At the Roxy, the set-opening "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground" came off as portable Page/Plant minus the crap lyrics, with Jack using a pedal stomp to switch from a trebly tone into a thrashing, metallic roar. White Stripes’ current single, "Fell in Love with a Girl," a short-but-sweet four-chord punk charm, bumped up against De Stijl’s elegiac "Apple Blossom," with Jack sketching a melody on piano as an intro, then rearing back on guitar to convey the song’s delicate romanticism in a voice that sounded like a raspier Paul McCartney. Their feral, Furry Lewis–like talking-blues number "Hello Operator" bled into a Dylan song — new Dylan, "Love Sick," from Time Out of Mind; and that in turn led to a scathing assault on Son House’s immortal "Death Letter" that included death-metal crunch and riotous feedback. (Meg’s sole vocal turn was a set-closing rendition of "Rated X," by Loretta Lynn, to whom White Blood Cells is dedicated.)
Between "Death Letter" and the snippet of House’s "John the Revelator" that they snuck in a few songs later, White Stripes essayed the blues’ binary of damnation and redemption in a few short strokes. That sort of compact, literate encapsulation served Jack’s pop songs just as well — as on the schoolyard charm of "We’re Going To Be Friends" and "The Same Boy You’ve Always Known," both sounding like pocket editions of classic McCartney. And though there were moments when one might’ve wished for an extra hand on stage, the duo’s point was well taken: two is company, three’s a crowd.
