Review: Jack White, Lazaretto

By Emmett H Robinson Smith

Jack White has been known for his ability to churn out song after song without even thinking about it. The documentary It Might Get Loud shows White composing a song in about five minutes, and the result is impressive. So, for a guy with a knack for creating large amounts of quality material in a short time slot, it’s disappointing to discover what a mixed bag his new album Lazaretto is.

            Ever the creative, White wowed the public with his unorthodox promotion for the album. The title track is now the fastest record ever released, and the “Ultra LP” vinyl edition features a hologram that appears when the record is played. In this respect, White went the extra mile in unconventional musical practice, and as the hologram is only one of the many little tricks on the “Ultra LP” edition, it’s apparent that the “Ultra LP” is the best way to experience the work. However, for all its bells and whistles, Lazaretto ultimately falls short musically, especially in the context of the brilliant marketing strategies for the vinyl.

            The first half of White’s second solo full-length makes the album. On the opener “Three Women”, he expands on classic blues chord progressions by adding elaborate instrumentation: Female backup vocals, guitar, bass, organ, piano, and a busy riff performed by different instruments at different times. Musically, it’s an exciting introduction, but it’s a shame that the lyrics aren’t even in the same ballpark: “I got three women / red, blonde, and brunette” White boasts. If he’s trying to spite his ex-bandmate-and-wife Meg, it sounds more desperate than anything. The chorus consists of “Lawdy lawd” repeated ad nauseum, and it wears thin quickly. For its lyrical limitations, however, “Three Women” makes for a solid track one, and is a good lead into highlight track “Lazaretto”. Contrastingly, it’s one of the strongest tracks lyrically, and is arguably the best song on the album. Reminiscent of the blazing “Sixteen Saltines” from his 2012 solo effort Blunderbuss, it’s a high-energy banger, full of dirty guitar and relentless drums that echo Meg’s style. Jack White sounds especially invigorated: “Even God herself has fewer plans than me”, he spits into the mic. And the way he delivers it, one can’t help but believe him. It’s not perfect, though. This barn-burner gives way to a fiddle solo that Spin magazine used the perfect word for: limp. The solo is limp indeed; it’s a buzz kill, and it reflects how much of Lazaretto is sullied by feeble country attempts.

            As Blunderbuss showed, White had become more interested in a country/folk sound than ever before, and Lazaretto is even more fiddle-fueled than its predecessor. This move is confounding for White Stripes fans, and it pushes him more to the margins of relevance in the musical landscape than ever before. “Entitlement” is musically stale because it sounds like just about any other sombre, down-tempo rustic country tune. White questions who deserves what in life, and compares the youth of today to Caesar in their feelings of entitlement. The song sounds like it was written by a sadsack teenager – and it probably was. White reportedly derived inspiration for some of the album from writings he created when he was nineteen years old. “Entitlement” just one constituent of the surprisingly large group of country songs on the album that isn’t up to snuff not only compared to Lazaretto’s rock songs, but especially compared to calibre of White’s previous rock-based discography. If Dan Aykroyd, John Belushi and company had performed Lazaretto’s “Just One Drink” in between “Theme from Rawhide” and “Stand By Your Man” during the country bar scene in the Blues Brothers it would have been a knockout – that’s how cliché it is.

            As was the case with Blunderbuss, Jack White is at his best when he commits to his rock side. “Lazaretto” and “Would You Fight for My Love?” are exemplary in showcasing White’s musical integrity. They stay true to his sound as the White Stripes frontman but are still fresh because, when White is at his best, as he is on these two tracks, nobody does it better than him. However, with the approximate 50/50 split on Lazaretto between rock and country, it seems that White himself has trepidations about his musical explorations. It’s almost as if he knows that he does rock better than anything else, and he uses songs like “Lazaretto” and “Would You Fight for My Love?” as compensation for his lukewarm country efforts. These two tracks aren’t anything unique by his standards, however, and the fact that they’re the album’s highlights begs the question: Has Jack White said all he needs to say as a musician? We’ve seen it before with other hugely successful artists – Eminem is a prime example. Both of these men drastically altered the musical landscape for the better relatively early in their careers, but are evidently struggling to keep their relevance intact.

            Jack White will never falter so much as to put his career at risk – he’s too much of a legendary figure in modern rock for that to happen. His following is as strong as ever, and one can only bet that it will continue to grow as adolescent after adolescent discovers “Seven Nation Army” for the first time. However, the childish brashness that was so revitalizing and compelling in releases like “Elephant” and “White Blood Cells” is gone for the most part on White’s most recent effort. There’s no question that he’s matured as a musician and a songwriter, but, as has been the case with many artists before him, this maturation is not necessarily a good thing.