Picture this: you're standing in a dank, smoke-filled basement, next to a thousand of your closest friends. You struggle to remain upright as you slip on the beer-battered floor and obnoxious fans try to push their way past you. Suddenly, the stage lights come on, and the crowd erupts so passionately you might thikn you're at a U2 or Dave Matthews concert. You're at the Middle East, and you're about to see the White Stripes.
Such was the scene in the early hours of Friday morning, when the White Stripes took the stage just after midnight. Composed only of Jack White on vocals and guitar and his sister, Meg, on drums, the White Stripes play a unique brand of stripped-down garage rock whose mere definition intrigues.
The duo has been toiling away in obscurity for the past few years, releasing two full-length albums: an eponymous debut in 1999 as well as last year's critically-lauded De Stijl. There's also been a handful of vinyl-only singles, most of which are updated covers of songs recorded by blues legends of the '20s and '30s, like Blind Willie McTell and Son House. Since Rolling Stone named them one of the Best New Bands of 2000 last month, the duo has been bathing in the attention of several labels. In the midst of this newly established hype, it's their performance that captivates.
The White Stripes remain a two-person show: there are no roadies to set up the drum kit or tune the guitars; they simply come onstage and play. Friday night, the Stripes took the stage in their trademark retro clothing: Jack in his bright orange scrubs and Meg in an adorable '60s dress, also orange but highlighted with white lace and buttons. Jack picked up his '60s-vintage Airline guitar, made of more plastic than wood, and launched into "The Big Three Killed My Baby" and "You're Pretty Good Looking," two grungy cult favorites.
With long, greasy hair bobbing in his youthful face, Jack White concentrated on his music, shrieking and singing intensely while frantically fingerpicking his guitar. He used two microphones, one with a haunting echo effect. Meanwhile, sister Meg pounded away at the drums garage-style, occasionally sticking out her tongue and rolling her eyes to up the duo's sex appeal. Though there were only two people onstage, playing stripped-down melodies and minimalist drums, the inside of the club resonated with the Stripes' full sound.
Jack strapped on his ancient Kay acoustic-electric guitar, patched up with pieces of cardboard, and showed off his slide skills on "Stop Breakin' Down." Teenage girls on the edge of stage tossed peppermint candies onstage, a peculiar trademark at White Stripes shows. Characteristically garage, most songs clocked in around the two-minute mark, and the White Stripes wasted no time with pretentious jamming or useless banter. As soon as one song ended, another began. Included towards the end of the set was a powerful rendition of "Apple Blossom," a bouncy, minor-key love song that silenced the crowd. A cover of Dolly Parton's "Jolene" found Jack White shrieking into his microphone while Meg held her composure and kept the time on her ride cymbal.
Though the Stripes returned to the stage for a brief encore, their set only lasted an hour. The crowd chanted and hollered for a second encore, but a stage crewmember motioned they would not return. Disappointed, the crowd booed but left satisfied.
Because of the White Stripes' minimalist approach to their music, both their CDs and live shows are relatively inexpensive. For college students, that's an appreciable fact. Go to www.whitestripes.com for more information, and plan to be at their show the next time they come to town.
