Album Review: Jack White, No Name

For my money, fret wizard Jack White has always been the Houdini of rock and his latest trick might just be his greatest yet. Last month, the physical media loving former White Stripes frontman surprise released a new LP and its arrival has already entered the realms of music mythology.

Originally handed out for free to lucky customers as his Third Man record shops in London, Detroit and Nashville on July 19 on unmarked white label vinyl (aside from the words No Name), an image of the record was later shared on Instagram alongside the legend “rip it.”

Fast forward a few weeks later and his sixth solo effort now gets a deserved official release and it’s the best thing he’s done since taking over the mainstream with “his sister” Meg two decades ago.

Primal and powerful, No Name is much more than a gimmick or throwaway album. Granted, I do adore the opus’ birth story as it brought some intrigue back to an over exposed music world where we now know what our favourite artist had for breakfast, but there’s plenty of substance here to sink your teeth into.

Righteous rocker ‘Archbishop Harold Holmes’ is the album’s finest moment. Driven by guitars that call to mind Fleetwood Mac’s ‘The Chain’ and featuring a manic vocal performance that veers into 80s wrestler territory, it’s destined to be a live staple for years. Other treats include the gloriously gritty ‘Missionary’ and ferocious and feral ‘Bombing Out.’

Lean, loud and best filed alongside records by the likes of fellow mavericks Jon Spencer, John Reis and the late great Dan Sartain, No Name is a welcome blast of punk soul which proves White still has the magic touch.

8/10