Jack White
Blunderbuss
(Third Man Records/Columbia)
As a latecomer to admiration for Jack White’s bombast, I approached Blunderbuss with apprehension. I need not have worried: the first half or so of this album is a stunner. White’s voice, sometimes warbly and whiny, is used to perfect effect. He sounds confident and versatile, and the songs are idiosyncratic constructions with a foot in ’70s riff rock and a foot in White’s often-clever wordplay. When it goes awry, that wordplay falls pretty flat, then a line like “spiked heels make a hole in a life boat” illustrates that White deserves his accolades. “Freedom at 21” is a blistering tour de force—the guitar sounds are huge and psychedelic, and it’s a relentless pleasure. After a wild, rocking ride, however, Blunderbuss turns benign, delivering unmemorable piano and acoustic guitar tunes that trade in his unique fire for a less successful brand of sound with heavy borrowing from late-era Beatles. —James Heflin
*
Able Thought
Keep It Weird
(independent)
Though he delivers somewhat amateurish DIY production and generally pedestrian instrumental skills, Able Thought has a deliciously relaxed and soulful vocal presence and laid-back vibe that make up for most of the earaches caused by pinned recording levels or painfully twanged guitars. Dwelling in a nexus of blues, sensitive soul and white guy hip-hop, his style recalls G.Love or Ben Harper, though he lists his primary influence as The Jimi Hendrix Experience—in a weird, modern way you can hear a lot of that in his music as well, stripped down and raw though it is. His melodic singing is creamy and even downright chocolatey, and his rhymes, though far from revolutionary, are earnest and seem personally based. Able Thought comes to the area from his native Providence, Rhode Island for a June 5 show at Theodores’ in Springfield. —Tom Sturm
*
Tenacious D
Rize of the Fenix
(Columbia)
Fuck yeah! The D are back. Sure, their last disk sucked dead dog dick, but right off the bat, Jack Black and Kyle Gass set the fucking record straight. “When the Pick of Destiny was released, it was a bomb, and all the critics said the D was done,” Black sings. As the album’s title suggests, they’ve returned. The refurbished D now has a lot more ass sex jokes and considerably fewer love songs—like “Fuck Her Gently” from their first, eponymous release. Instead, they offer several awe-inspiring, epic ballads: one imagines what it would be like to own a “Deth Starr” and another tributes the “Roadie” (“he looks a thousand miles with his ey-ey-eyes”). Best of all, though, is “39.” Sounding a lot like Neil Diamond, Black praises his middle-aged lover, assuring listeners that despite “boobies drooping, she’s good enough for me.” Let’s hope sensitivity classes never catch up with this duo. —Mark Roessler
