Jack White, Aug. 11, 2018
Portland, OR

I saw Jack White play in Portland in a sports arena, the kind of venue the White Stripes would have played ad infinitum, were I king of this old world.

The White Stripes were my favorite band-besides-the-Beatles-of-course. I was pretty hardcore about it.

The intensity of their shows was so white-hot, they still vibrate in my soul 15 years later.

And though I appreciated the Raconteurs, Jack's first band post-White Stripes, and I tried to grok Jack White's solo stuff, it never worked for me the same. It felt like he had taken my least favorite aspects of the White Stripes and focused on them.

Still, I'm smart enough to know when I am watching brilliance-bordering-on-genius. The concert was a fully realized expression of a complete artistic vision. That's actually a rare experience. The anti-Trump rants and animation were also great.

Actually, the-age-of-Trump was Jack's foil, his context. It informed and fed the grandiose controlled chaos of Jack's art. And it made me wonder: why don't more rockers use Trump that way—as artistic fodder? I mean, shouldn't we all be using him for good? Take that energy and turn it into something new?

When it comes to Trump, shouldn't artists Reduce, Reuse, Recycle?

This is me and Hillary before the show.



Comments

Julia said…
Merci de nous apporter de la détente, votre site est merveilleux, je suis tous les jours dessus et j’en vois pas la fin tellement il y a des nouveautés.
Merci pour nous donner autant de bonheur !

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