On my last nite in Austin I went and saw The Raconteurs at Stubb’s Bar-B-Q and had a rockin’ great time. When I last visited Atlanta I saw the Black Crowes and had just as rockin’ a great time, but Stubb’s was a different kettle of fish entirely. Whereas the Black Crowes was a wonderfully bundled up experience where the weather and the venue and the band melded together into a glorious Southern-style Sunday evening[1] this was really just a bar-type touring rock band show. But don’t get me wrong, it was fuckn great – just not as awash in sensory glory.

The deal is that The Raconteurs are touring behind their new album, Consolers Of The Lonely and true to their vagabond-deluxe aesthetic Stubb’s had a large, blacked out tour bus parked round the back. Despite the band’s mega-famous co-frontman[2] this is not Motley Crue touring with their own private jet and drug-preparing hostesses, this is a tour by bus from state to state.

Lonely Consolers

And so the stage was set[3] for a dusty outdoors gig with beers in hand and rock on stage. The supporting act was Birds of Avalon and they were great, though I suspect a bit on the jammy side for the hook-hungry crowd. Still, a great band – a tight unit with a thick sound. But no-one was there for a series of extended instrumentals, we were all there to see Jack White. And so the Birds dutifully trundled off[4] while we awaited the The Raconteurs’ promised explosion of sweat and underwear-shredding rock. And this is what’s is still amazing to me about America – on any given Friday nite(especially in Austin) you can go and see some really world class musicians. You can go down to Redriver street in shorts and flip-flops, pay your 30 bucks, buy a beer and be one of six or seven hundred to see The Raconteurs work for their money. No papparazzi, no global news coverage – just another live show.

And what a fucking live show it was. The Raconteurs are a great band, great songs, great sound – great rhythm section and great slide guitar from their frontman/guitarist Brendan Benson. Great songwriting, also by Benson. But Jack White is in a different league entirely. The most important guitarist of his generation, he came out with something else, something larger than life[5] – something truly explosive. Everything from the way that he walks to his uncomfortably plain haircut to his Pete Townsend hops to the way he yelps past the microphone when driving a song to its payoff makes it clear that he will be remembered for years to come as the leading light in blues/country-based rock.

Just how good is he? Well, he replaces the touring pianist (some dude) to play the show’s only piano solo on You Don’t Understand Me and burns the place down. His shrill voice remains intact throughout and he plays those fucking cool, iconic guitars of his like he’s ripping apart phone books.
It was amazing to see one musician dominate an entire set without even trying. But he’s not perfect by any measure. Frankly, he is a poor host[6] – not warm or engaging and, despite his confidence and sound, seemingly not really interested in sharing with the audience. In comparison to AC/DC (all of them) he is cold and distant. But he does rock.

The Raconteurs were great, but Jack White was astounding in his assuredness and ability to back up his swagger with revolutionary musical skill and intent. And I have a feeling that Friday’s show wasn’t even close to what he’s capable of in full, delirious flight.
Well done to The Raconteurs, great show. But jesus, he may not have the social warmth of Brian Johnson, but Jack White is fucking iconic.