I was just flipping thru the old Spin with the White Stripes on the cover and for the first time really noticed the little monkey on Jack's shoulder and in all the pictures. In one picture he's pensive, sitting in Jack's arms and holding Meg's hand, wearing a little white smock. In another he's screaming, "I'm here!" That monkey has such style, such spirit; he looks into the camera and reveals his human essence, you can feel it, even though he's just a little guy. Just a little guy. I want to be that little monkey.
When you grok the essence, and the consciousness, of an animal, of one single animal, you hook into the consciousness of Creation, and then you totally trip out, dude! Sensitivity is everywhere. Careful.
Holy green bananas. I forgot to mention I spent about 8 hours interviewing Liam Lynch the other day, of "My United States of Whatever" and "Sifl and Olly" fame. He's one of the more brilliant people I've met. His supercreativity vibe rubbed off on me and I've been driving around making up songs about pot bellies, grilled cheese, Cute Guys, echinacea and my dog.
He knows Meg and Jack and Jack emailed him some of the new songs. I got to hear "Seven Nation Army," the first song, which is very different and bizarre and still Stripey in its way.
First of all there's a bass (really a jazzed-up guitar). Second, it's got a disco sort of beat; you can easily hear this being remixed for a dance club version. The bass line that defines the song is just like the melody from the Bob Marley song "Dem Belly Full But We Hungry." The final oddity is that it really rocks, hard, almost in a cock-rock metal way. Cool, man.
It is such a relief to hear a great band not taking itself too seriously, not assuming they now have to write The Great Rock Record. Like the Beatles, they seem to be just checking shit out, whatever turns them on, randomly, in a humble way that over the long haul can make for real greatness.
shit i got to go write some shit.