WHITE STRIPES/WHITE HEAT
So then, last night, The White Stripes at the Manchester Apollo (or the fancy Carling Apollo that it's been changed to since I was last there). Wow. Jack White is surely the most talented person I've ever seen. Except maybe that circus guy I saw once. But it's a different kind of talent, so I'll let it go.
Support came from Jack's old band The Go and "hotly tipped newcomers" (how I love saying that, makes me feel all journalistic) Whirlwind Heat. I arrived too late and missed The Go, but I did buy a big pink Whirlwind Heat pin badge of the girl on the record cover. So that's ok. However, they did seem to go on a bit. Maybe it was just me.
Apparently, The Stripes like to forego all that weird music-you've-never-heard that bands normally play before they come onstage, instead prefering to show Felix The Cat cartoons. Unfortunately, the sound was a bit rubbish and we couldn't hear what was going on. But still, Felix. Good.
Then the lights go down, and the audience (who I have to admit was one of the coolest I've been in attendance with) start a-hootin and a-hollerin. Meg walks out in a white top and red pants (or maybe it was a red top and white pants. I forget, but she looked pretty damn beautiful) and sits at her drumstool.
But where's Jack? You can hear people's thoughts. "Meg's all well and good, but where's the wonderkid?" Then... a flash of pale skin from the darkness of the back stage. A cigarette lights up underneath a dark floppy fringe. And he emerges.
Both sit back to back on Meg's stool, and everything is right in the world. There's only one word to describe the two of them, sat there exchanging sly glances:
SEX.
Jack saddles up his guitar and they launch into "Black Math". It's great. People jump up and down, people dance, people stand still and try to look cool. But nothing matters except Jack 'n' Meg.
The Stripes play a good balance of stuff from all four albums, highlights being the "Jolene" cover, a sweet "In The Cold, Cold Night", singalong style "You're Pretty Good Looking (For A Girl)", and a lovely lovely a cappella "Hotel Yorba", where Jack stops half way through and gets Meg to go sit at the front of the stage with him.
The tightness is amazing, so much so that you kinda forget there's only two of them. It's like Jack is always trying to fuck around and catch Meg out, but she's one step ahead, looking into his eyes as though she's telling him off but she can't help loving him all the same.
Like most good things, it's over all too soon. Sweetly, Jack 'n' Meg come back out after they've finished to apologise. Jack got carried away and it's way past 11, so they gotta go. Damn stupid licensing laws. Still, it was an amazing night.
Some minor grievances; the guitar Jack uses to play the bass bits on "Seven Nation Army" and such like is brown, and kinda clashes with the whole red, white, black thing. Also, those pants were just wrong. Red on one leg. Black on the other. And so tight around the crotch, my eyes just kept getting drawn to that bulge. Jack, put it away.
However, it was definitely one of the best gigs I've ever been to. Good times indeed.
So then, last night, The White Stripes at the Manchester Apollo (or the fancy Carling Apollo that it's been changed to since I was last there). Wow. Jack White is surely the most talented person I've ever seen. Except maybe that circus guy I saw once. But it's a different kind of talent, so I'll let it go.
Support came from Jack's old band The Go and "hotly tipped newcomers" (how I love saying that, makes me feel all journalistic) Whirlwind Heat. I arrived too late and missed The Go, but I did buy a big pink Whirlwind Heat pin badge of the girl on the record cover. So that's ok. However, they did seem to go on a bit. Maybe it was just me.
Apparently, The Stripes like to forego all that weird music-you've-never-heard that bands normally play before they come onstage, instead prefering to show Felix The Cat cartoons. Unfortunately, the sound was a bit rubbish and we couldn't hear what was going on. But still, Felix. Good.
Then the lights go down, and the audience (who I have to admit was one of the coolest I've been in attendance with) start a-hootin and a-hollerin. Meg walks out in a white top and red pants (or maybe it was a red top and white pants. I forget, but she looked pretty damn beautiful) and sits at her drumstool.
But where's Jack? You can hear people's thoughts. "Meg's all well and good, but where's the wonderkid?" Then... a flash of pale skin from the darkness of the back stage. A cigarette lights up underneath a dark floppy fringe. And he emerges.
Both sit back to back on Meg's stool, and everything is right in the world. There's only one word to describe the two of them, sat there exchanging sly glances:
SEX.
Jack saddles up his guitar and they launch into "Black Math". It's great. People jump up and down, people dance, people stand still and try to look cool. But nothing matters except Jack 'n' Meg.
The Stripes play a good balance of stuff from all four albums, highlights being the "Jolene" cover, a sweet "In The Cold, Cold Night", singalong style "You're Pretty Good Looking (For A Girl)", and a lovely lovely a cappella "Hotel Yorba", where Jack stops half way through and gets Meg to go sit at the front of the stage with him.
The tightness is amazing, so much so that you kinda forget there's only two of them. It's like Jack is always trying to fuck around and catch Meg out, but she's one step ahead, looking into his eyes as though she's telling him off but she can't help loving him all the same.
Like most good things, it's over all too soon. Sweetly, Jack 'n' Meg come back out after they've finished to apologise. Jack got carried away and it's way past 11, so they gotta go. Damn stupid licensing laws. Still, it was an amazing night.
Some minor grievances; the guitar Jack uses to play the bass bits on "Seven Nation Army" and such like is brown, and kinda clashes with the whole red, white, black thing. Also, those pants were just wrong. Red on one leg. Black on the other. And so tight around the crotch, my eyes just kept getting drawn to that bulge. Jack, put it away.
However, it was definitely one of the best gigs I've ever been to. Good times indeed.
posted by Matt at
8:56 PM
