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1999 was a pivotal year for the White Stripes. From recording their first album through rumors of the band’s demise and embarking on their first-ever tour, the band worked extremely hard and was fortunate to see small but incremental gains from their efforts. Third Man Records is humbled to explore the depths of the band, their self-titled album and the entirety of their 1999 for our 42nd Vault package, THE WHITE STRIPES XX. Subscribe now through October 31st at TMR storefronts or online via bio link! #thirdmanvault #thirdmanrecords
It just amazes me that no one else has anything to say about this record. It's been out for MONTHS and its so damn good it makes a man cry just to get thinkin' about it. The blur, the flash and dazzle, the White Stripes, baby, THE WHITE STRIPES!!! Honestly, I'd never so much as heard of these folkz affore I got lissened to the L.P. in a record store a couple months ago. (Fallout Records, Seattle, WA. Give them all your money. Come down from Vancouver to buy U-Men records. Call them on the phone and act retarded.) "THE WHITE STRIPES," the nice record store lady said. A mysterious, somewhat sinister two-piece that comes to you via the impeccable taste and unflagging dedication of Long Gone John and his SYMPATHY FOR THE RECORD INDUSTRY label. What we got here is a boy, a girl, a guitar, a rudimentary drumkit, and a Led Zeppelin fixation like the Aswad High Dam. You take all that, you stuff it through the rama-lama-fa-fa-fa with more cheap speed than a normal ninth-grader can handle and you will most definitely get you somma that WHITE STRIPES. I mean, you will get you some wailing, banging, sex-starved, all-American ACCIONE DU ROCK like yer daddy done told you 'bout. Plus, that songwriting (read "riff architecture") is the doggone duck's mittens! (Like you're even gonna care, what with the gosh-darned rock-n-rolling they got all over this thing, but still...) The Stripes, like a lotta the new breed blooze punx, knows the value of them thar empty parts in between the cruncy bits. They got what the eggyheads like to call "Dynamics". It means that they can kinda lay back like a little kitty cat sometimes, affore they jump up and rock yer flabby ass all to hell. (I'm not talkin' about all that malajusted EMO sh!t either. Those folks ain't got "Dynamics", they's just not takin' their medication.) Whoo-ee, kids, I said "Dynamics". That's were you gotta be for the big millenium. That's what really sells it out in the cheap seats. If you still ain't got the drift, take a lissen to "The Big Three Killed My Baby", and let that school you on up. It's got something for the whole fambly!! Smartypants lyrix, swell dunderhead riffage, and that amazing Bon-Scott-choking-to-death-on-his-own-vomit VOICE. If Robert Plant coulda singed like that, Led Zeppelin might have even sold a few rekkids. The side-two opener (vinyl, baby, it's gotta be) "Broken Bricks" is likewise AOK, just a-buildin' and a hollerin' until it EXPLODES all over the place at the end like Ron Fugg'n Jeremy. AND they cover that Gin-U-Wine classic "St. James Infirmary Blues" without even screwing it up. Just pie-ano, vocals, and a long blue line of cold chills. Spooky-ooky, baby. I dunno, there isn't a whole lot more I can say about The White Stripes, and I'm stretching my powers of observation as it is. Honestly, if you don't already dig this strain of hingeless gutter spew, the White Stripes won't convert you. BUT if you like it neat, cheap, and served in a dirty glass, the. WHITE STRIPES gonna set you up fine.