The sophomore slump is a difficult thing to ignore. Sometimes bands take too long between albums, or sometimes people realize that maybe there wasn't anything especially interesting about the band in between discs. Sometimes the times and trends change. In cases like this, there is always much hype, much internet chatter and a publicity machine that can build for months.
In the case of the Raconteurs second record, it is more the element of surprise that they have going for them. With little to no warning, the band has unleashed Consolers of the Lonely mere weeks after its completion. The original plan (told to me by our local Warner rep) was that the band planned on releasing a series of EPs under various monikers (I believe one was 'the Pin-ups') to see if there was any interest in the music, rather than the men making them. Instead - they have gone the immediate route, for a music audience in demand of iPod accessible tunes post-haste. All this aside, what the quartet has here is a love letter to arena rock, circa 1973-88.
The men in question of course are Brendan Benson (whose Lapalco is one of the most overlooked albums of the last decade), Jack White (you know, he was married to this drummer chick), Jack Lawrence and Patrick Keeler (the rhythm section of the Greenhorns, they previously worked with White on Loretta Lynn's Van Lear Rose as the Do-Whaters). The album in question is their second together, one that comes barely eight months after the White Stripes released the kitsch-rock assault of Icky Thump. Lonely picks up where Thump left off, delivering the wave of arena rock sound that your weird Uncle Terry might put on after a night of Jäger bombs. What the disc shows us is a band that has surpassed the jam stage and the recording of what came out of said initial jams; they've given us a complete record, something concise and thought out. It has the highs and lows that will make for an interesting live translation, while still working completely as a disc. Also gaining some diversity is White's vocal abilities, the years of constant touring and recording have turned his unwelcome warble into a charming yodel to accompany big, bluesy guitars.
The disc opens with "Consoler of the Lonely", a fist pumping, distortion hugging tune (with vocals to match). Instantly catchy, it will have you singing along to its "bored to tears" harmony part. After another rocker ("Salute Your Solution") that follows suite, we cool things down with the piano driven "You Don't Understand Me. If played live in this exact order, it would work fully and completely. What follows is a trippy rock odyssey, complete with chants ("Hold Up"), AC/DC style cock rock ("Attention") and Greenhorns-influenced horns ("Switch & the Spur", "Many Shades of Black"). "Old Enough" sounds like it could be the little brother of "I'm Slowly Turning Into You," synth heavy and ready for Michel Gondry to shoot a clip for YouTube. With companion songs ("Pull the Blanket Off" builds perfectly into the Genesis spewing "Rich Kid") and the oddball closer ("Carolina Drama") you've got a record that could simply be called Jack White and Friends Play Their Favorites.
Instead, we have a disc that is nowhere near as memorable as a White Stripes recording. Lyrically, it is "arena rock," in the sense that it is pretty generic and boring. We wait around for something that matches the opener (which does hook you in) but they fail to deliver on their promise. Technically, the recording is fine. I'm sure in concert it is brilliant, when you're more focused on what the tunes are making you feel (as opposed to lyrical content). I suppose at this point, with so many records under his belt (about fourteen if you count his production work) you have to begin to wonder if Jack White has simply run out of steam as a songwriter?
Musically; I enjoy this record. It hits me on all the right levels. Sadly though, due to its lack of flair in the wordplay, I grew tired after only two listens.
