I love the White Stripes. I love the rock feeling and the hard edge and how they are so obviously having while making music. I love to RUN RUN RUN as hard as I possible can to their music. And I’ve found that when we blast any White Stripes in the car the baby bobs her head in time to the thumping of the drums. Oh my stars I love that child.
‘Icky Thump’ became a favorite as soon as the album of the same name was released. After I figured out what ‘Icky Thump’ meant I was more in love with this song than ever. Still working on integrating the phrase into my daily vocab though. A little tricky but possibly a good replacement for son of a youknowwhat or motherefffffers as I try to clean up my language for the sake of my impressionable child. Hopefully she’s impressionabe enough to pick up on these lyrics:
White Americans, what?
Nothing better to do?
Why don’t you kick yourself out
You’re an immigrant too?
Who’s using who?
What should we do?
Well, you can’t be a pimp
And a prostitue too.
Ahhhhh commentary on immigration policy in song with a rousing round of ‘Lalalalalalalalala.’ I’m in love.
If I were going to be in a band, it would either be a total bluegrass gang of beards and peasants skirts, or it would be the White Stripes. And it almost seems possible, because as untouchable as Jack White’s guitar can seem at times to a mere non-musically inclined mortal like myself, something about the simplicity of Meg White’s drums makes you think you just might be able to do that. Oh but wait a second you aren’t even nearly cool enough. Nevermind. Drum on Meg White.