Jack White the enigma? The artist? The man proudly sticking two fingers up at the American establishment? The answer is all of these and none. Despite having a cupboard full of Grammy Awards, millions of shifted units and a reputation as a man who rarely wastes his time on industry chutzpah, the real Jack White most of the time remains off to the left and in the shadows, willing to let us do the taking for granted.
His seventh solo album arrived without much fanfare, the first new music since 2024’s ripping No Name. Wisely on Frozen Charlotte he’s retained the same band of veteran session players in drummer Patrick Keeler, keyboardist Bobby Emmett and bass Dominic Davis, each bringing it seems the ability to help turn those offbeat ideas into a whole with serious intent.
That doesn’t mean everything is to be taken so seriously – closer Neighbors Blues is a five minute gripe with tongue firmly in cheek – whilst Dollar Bill and Derecho Demonico are some of the super sized, raucous blues many will probably have come for. There’s room for some biblical shenanigans too via opener G.O.D. And The Broken Ribs, but the shaking garage roar of You’ll Never Fix Me tops the charts, a perfect execution of a smartly imperfect vision. Who is Jack White? Frozen Charlotte has no answers, but then what the hell did you expect?
You can read a full review here.
The Voice Of Unreason 